Love Letter From A Secular Mormon

AKA: The Bastard Child. (Mom: It's a joke! Ha ha!)

As I've said before: I don't like to talk serious-like. What is my problem? Dude. I need more funny. But honestly, this is a subject I spend time thinking about everyday. Literally...every...effing...day.

Dave and I were both raised devout Mormon and come from families who, with very few exceptions, are still devout. I think in many ways, Dave and I were drawn together through our questions of Mormonism rather than through our belief in it. Our marriage and belief have evolved over the last 17+ (!) years. So here we are, non-believers living a secular life (and when I say secular, there are margaritas involved). Not without faith, not without spirituality, not without belief. (And yes, I realize the whole "spiritual but not religious" thing is flake-city.) Certainly, Dave and I don't have all the same exact feelings or beliefs. But we sure are supportive of one another.

I often think I want to talk more openly about it. And certainly I don't feel like I shouldn't. It's just more like it is incredibly hard to help believers and non-believers alike understand where I'm coming from.

It's sort of like trying to explain to a man exactly what it's like to be a woman (or vice versa), and having them actually understand. (I think we can all agree how ridiculous that is.) But, in general, non-believers tend to be more accepting. Like, "What's the big deal? It's not like you're a drug addict or something."

Ah, but that's where you're wrong. I'm addicted to talking about Mormons.

What makes things even more interesting: one of our kids is pretty into Mormonism. And she is also super smart, liberal, kind, compassionate and seriously hilarious. Ultimately, I think our goal is to raise our kids to be people who respect other people's choices, and also feel their choices are equally worthy of respect. So when she gives a talk in church, I am going to freaking be there every time, tearing up with pride. Just like when my other kid is in a musical. Or when the other's in a choir singing on Veteran's Day. Or the other one who says he's not going to eat peanut butter sandwiches anymore, because otherwise he can't touch noses with his best friend who's allergic.

Here comes the really super important part: I respect and love lots of Mormons (and their beliefs!) deeply and without reservation. I don't feel like I need to qualify that. I accept them and they accept me. And that's why they are my friends and my family. Frankly, that fact has made my religious choices that much more difficult. It's a lot easier to walk away when you don't care about or respect the people you feel like you might be letting down. And I would be devastated if they ever felt like they couldn't share with me their feelings and experiences regarding their spiritual life without fear of judgement.

For the most part, I've actually been pretty amazed at the reactions of our family and close friends. Amazed in a good way. I'm sincerely proud to be part of them.

At the end of the day, (cliché time!) I have to be true to myself! And to what I think is right for me and my family. (*cliché induced dry-heave*) But just because it makes me gag a little, doesn't make it any less true.