after

In preparation for this post, I read through all the emails I got back from my family members after I sent them emails regarding my non-attendance of the Mormon church. It would be most informative to just post their emails, but since I don't have their permission to do so, nor would I ask for it, I'll have to be content with just summarizing my thoughts about their emails.

First, by the time I wrote my siblings, I was already in email communication with one sister, and had been for months, about my disaffection. Thankfully, I had been and have continued to be open with this particular sister, ever since my first Joseph Smith-scare when I read Mormon Enigma, a biography of Emma Smith. When I was getting ready to come out to my family, I emailed back and forth with her about how to approach things. She encouraged me to get something out in the open with each sibling individually, so it would be personal, and so they would have time to process things before I saw them again in person. It was great advise, even retrospectively; that's just what I did.

But it also meant I had to deal with individual emails back from everyone. And I have a big family. They all wrote back, but everyone reacted differently. I wrote them all back again; only my dad responded to a second email. Since then, only two siblings have ever discussed church matters with me. More on that in another post.

As far as the reaction emails go:

Mom, who must have been too emotional to write anything more, just wrote a simple "I love you" email a few days later. As if nothing ever happened. As if I hadn't just ripped her heart out and stomped on it. As if I hadn't just told her I rejected, not just her religion, but also the way she raised me, and the way she lives her life. That's more or less how she's handled things since then, too. Sometimes I appreciate it. Sometimes I can't stand it.

Dad wrote back, philosophizing about the challenge of finding God in your own way, and saying how that journey is important and he respects I'm on my journey. I wasn't an atheist at that time, so that was fine for him to say. But he also made it clear that he believed I would find "Him" again. As if to say, "The journey is fine, as long as you end up back here." It's patronizing. It's close-minded. It's as if they see me as an 8-year old, mad at my parents for some slight, and I've packed up my teddy bear and toothbrush and run away to the shed in the back yard. And they watch out the kitchen window, nodding knowingly, saying, "She'll be back before dark. Let her be. She'll realize later how silly this is." And so they remain to this day.

Several of my siblings wrote expressing shock and sadness, but ultimately, love and support. They said nothing about testimonies. They wondered how this happened, and even said they'd be willing to talk through things. I have not taken them up on the offer, partly because I've never been alone with any of them since then, and partly because it's just too hard to bring up. It's hard to know if they really want to hear. I guess I'll never know if I don't try. Someday.

A couple of siblings' emails hurt. They certainly didn't mean to hurt me. They just expressed their genuine love for the Gospel, and wondered what happened to me--I had been so great, I had had such a strong testimony. One of them had "had an feeling the other day" that I "was struggling" and so put my name on the temple rolls. (See this post about my thoughts on such actions.) Another said he KNOWS the church is true and KNOWS I'll come back someday and we'll be one big happy eternal family in heaven. He kept using the full name, The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, instead of "the church," as if to emphasize it's unique Trueness. Buddy, if it were true, that'd be great. But it's not. Besides, didn't I just tell you I didn't believe all that? But that means nothing to the TBM, except "anyone who says they don't believe it is wrong."

The whole process of emailing sent me into a downward emotional spiral, but I let work consume me, and I didn't (couldn't? wouldn't?) think about it a ton until it was time to visit them at Christmas.