Hashtag complaining about the church again
I remember one time when I was eighteen and struggling so bad with my faith, we had a temple in our city at that point, so I took a few minutes, and went and sat at the temple grounds and begged heavenly father to give me something, to send me a messge or a sign or thd holy ghost, because I was so unsure and so scared and the church was really the only thing I had known. "You're all powerful, God. Please, don't turn away from me now, even if I'm sinful."
I don't think in my entire life that I've ever actually felt the spirit, it was always just me. No warm feelings, no promptings, no miraculous guidance given to me by God. I got my patriarchal blessing, and I was so relieved because finally I have something like an answer. I'm going to get married, and have kids. Everything will work out.
I remember I was so scared for years that because I was ace, or aro, or whatever lable I used when I was fifteen, I wouldn't be able to go to the celestial kingdom. I was so scared. To make rules and then give them to someone who finds them nearly impossible to follow, must be something close to torture.
I remember being the president of my young woman's group, and being forced to knock on inactive members doors. The shame snd anxiety I felt weren't the spirit, how can you stand to be so invasive, how can you stand to go to the homes of people you don't know and ask to speak to their daughter, how can you direct a group of teens to try and find that same girl and befriend her for the purposes of coming to church. How can you excuse that.
I remember I got baptized because that's what you do when you're eight, but I remember hoping that getting baptized would fix something in me, that I would properly join the church and receive those covenants and be given the holy ghost and being a member of the church would feel right and make sense. It didn't work. I felt the same, maybe a bit more confident because every adult in my life was proud of me.
I remembered I went to the temple with my yw group because there weren't any other options for me. I never felt anything there, except uncomfortable, and cold, and watched. Growing up in a religion that is so strict about modesty, and then in its most holy building "the house of the lord" and being forced to wait, sopping wet, with nothing but a towel to cover you in front of your peers and teachers is maybe one of the worst experiences.
I remember jealousy and anger and shame, abiut my actions and other's. I remember being terrified that heavenly father knew (and he did know) all my thoughts and feelings and actions, and that I would be judged for it. I was terrified that if I missed repenting for one little sin I would be condemned forever.
I remember one time I was eight and preparing to be baptized and feeling nothing but the expectations of my family, of my friends, of my teachers. How can you look at me and say I wasn't coerced, how can you tell me I need a lawyer to leave. I was eight. I was eight. I was eight. I was eight.
And I was seven when I was told I had to be prepared to die for this group, and I was 6 when I was told to give a portion of all my money to men I didn't know, and I was five when I was told that when I was told to follow their orders unquestioning, and I was four when I was told this was the only way a person should live, that I would suffer horrors beyond horrors if I stepped away.
I have a lot to say about the church, but in the end, I'm tired of being scared, and uncomfortable, and judged. I'm so tired.
