I was really out there believing it was my responsibility to save my parents at like 8 years old. Begging for FHE and scripture study like it would make them love me more 🥲

it’s not surprising. the church covering up and hiding pedophiles. it’s what they do. they have to protect the patriarchy at all costs, their precious priesthood holders. to do so tho means hiding their despicable and horrific actions at the cost of countless victims.

it’s not a new concept, other churches have done it. have Mormons always felt above the others that do it, yea they have. it’s a twitter discourse that breaks my heart and enrages my mind of members trying to explain away why the church actively instructed their local leaders to NOT report abuse to the authorities. this isn’t the bishop roulette how much will they push about masturbation or how I kiss my partner or what underwear I’m wearing. this is headquarters telling them to keep it inside, instruction from SLC to not report damn near makes it fucking policy.

they hid my dads abuse because he promised he wouldn’t do it again (he did) they hid my ex’s pedophilia because “he’ll grow out of it” (he didn’t) they told me my ex’s abuse towards me wasn’t abuse because “who could blame him” (i could)

My therapist says I haven’t been happy. I don’t know if I believe her. I don’t know if I want to believe her, or consider the idea for that matter.

 I know a lot of my life has been a lie, and I know, looking back on it that it wasn’t good, that if I had been fully aware of what was happening, if I hadn’t been brainwashed by a cult and abusers from such an early age, I would’ve known it wasn’t happiness. But to hear “you’ve never known happiness”...I want to believe I was happy in the moment, even if I know I wasn’t know, I’d like to believe what I thought I was feeling in the moment was happiness. And maybe that’s more what she was getting at, just because I didn’t know then it wasn’t happiness doesn’t mean that it was any less real. Okay no that really solidifies that my life was centered on a lie.

I feel like I got better to be sent back 10 years. 20 even. 

It scares me because she’s right. 

Happiness isn’t something someone like me could risk. You live your life being told you won’t be happy in this life, only in the next, all you gotta do is survive this one first. I haven’t lived my life in a way for enjoyment, because that was sinful. The eat, drink, and be merry what not scripture comes to mind. 

It doesn't, but it does

I wait for the other shoe

The moment the rug gets pulled

I remember the first month from years ago

That blissful month

Where everything was right

Hurts were covered by apologies

I was the most comfortable I had been

He pretended to be everything I needed and wanted

So now, now I panic when I receive love

When I receive care

When the right words and actions are happening

When hope becomes all too familiar

Because nothing good has come from being happy

I sit tight, I close my mouth

I find the words for the thoughts in my head

Stumbling and stuttering while trying not to cry

I hope their patience remains

I'm not trying to run

And I swear I don't want to

Another reality that haunts my childhood

You're learning he wasn't what you thought

And I'm learning you really didn't know

You speak like we're friends and its confusing

as an adult I empathize

I understand

I get it

And I can forgive

My inner child tho

Is still angry and hurt, wrestling with this new knowledge

I think it hurts more, at least when you were complacent you saw me

Knowing you didn't know proves I was invisible

I break remembering how hard I tried to get your attention

How I could never get it until I started yelling

Until I stopped being the child you didn't have to worry about

And yet, those years, of me being a normal teen, you use against me the most

It's difficult to reconcile that you couldn't protect me

that your memories are blank while mine put me in therapy

I know, I know

Assume the worst and expect disappointment

Stay guarded and don’t share too much

Trust is earned not given

Make them work to hear your story

And yet

I do it again

Is it my softness or my trauma?

Or is it just naïveté

I know cruelty and evil exist, I do

And yet

I assume the best

Giving the benefit of the doubt

Another hopeful exception turned to the rule

The signs were there and I knew

I forget the evil I know

Jumping in feet first and assuming the best because I forget

im startled as i wake again, coming back to the present. 

i shouldve expected it though, given the week i had, the month i had. it happens frequently enough my nervous system shutting down, unable to process the stress as yet again another trigger is set off. 

battling again am i too much, am i too loud, or proud? childhood guidance ringing in my ear telling me to keep sweet or boys will never like me. taught to stay in my lane, girls are to be seen not heard. go to school? oh no, your place is in the home. how will you ever be happy or know what to do without a priesthood holder

unlearning the cult, reconstructing myself. separating who i am from what the cult made me. reclaiming my voice and constantly reminding myself girls can be loud too.