My name is Amy and I am an ex-Mormon

I grew up in the Mormon church. From the time I was blessed in sacrament meeting as a newborn I was hearing songs about Joseph Smith, the Book of Mormon, pioneers, and occasionally songs about Jesus. At one point in my life, I remember making the choice that if I were ever in a situation where someone had me at gun-point and asked me if I would deny Joseph Smith was a true prophet, I would die instead of denying him. Radical, I know. I went to all of my primary functions, used my piano skills to accompany singing at church functions, occasionally lead the singing in church, and sang a lot during sacrament meetings in my ward. My parents were, and are, seen as pillars in the small community I live in, and were always examples of service and faithfulness. I also had 7 siblings come before me, all of which had their issues, but each came out on top of things, served their missions and/or got sealed in the temple for time and all eternity.

Then I came along…and turned 16…and met my husband. I was participating in the opera “Marriage of Figaro” at BYU-Idaho, and we met and fell in love. The church has this “rule” (I call it a rule, since it isn’t a commandment…but it’s kind of treated like on in a way) that you should only be allowed to group date at age 16, and can start to steady date only after you turn 18. When I met my husband I was only halfway through my 16th year of life. We knew we were supposed to be together and be married. But there was also the small issue of me graduating high school first. My family was—to say the least—appalled at me dating a man 5 ½ years older than myself. There were phone calls to my parents, phone calls to me, and a lot of awkward dinners whenever my siblings and their families visited. To put it simply, they were all (except one, who was closer to me than the others) completely against my dating my husband, let alone marrying him (in the temple, I might add) when I finally graduated high school early and turned 18.

In our second year of marriage, we started to learn more about the church (Joseph’s wives—including the ones who were still married to other people when he married them, his drinking and smoking problems, etc.). We also thought more about the rationale behind many church commandments and realized that they didn’t make sense (e.g. why do we have to pay tithing in order to get our eternal-life saving ordinances in the temple?). To make a very long story short…my husband ended up taking his name off the records shortly before our son was born. This was, of course, a wave in the family to put it mildly. I continued to play the part (so I could get through college at the LDS university I attended) and it became more and more difficult as time went on. Shortly before I graduated I “came out” to my family and explained why I didn’t agree with church doctrine and why I wouldn’t be attending church anymore. However, I also put it to them firmly that I didn’t want them to feel uncomfortable sharing that part of their life with me and that I wanted to know what was going on with them in their lives regardless of whether or not it involved church. In other words, I didn’t want to be put in that “look they left and now they are so bitter and offended and now they won’t even talk about the church” category. At the time I told my family about my beliefs, I didn’t see a reason behind removing my name from the records of the church (which would nullify my baptism and endowments, although my temple sealing was void due to my husband’s removal of his name), because it was my connection to where I came from and my family. Now my opinion has changed.
I don’t want to be counted on the list of faithful saints every conference since I don’t agree with church doctrine. But I don’t want to hurt my family, because as much as they may have hurt me, I know they love me and I love them. I want to be defined by my love of music, being a wife and mother, my love of learning, my artistic outlets, and my quality of self as a human being. If I remove my name from the church I am afraid that will define me as an “ex-Mormon” to my family at all times, and they won’t ever know me for who I am. Either way, I am stuck between a rock and a hard place.
In the end I guess it doesn’t matter whether or not they get to know me, but whether or not I get to know myself. Part of that is facing the judgements, hurt feelings, and cold shoulders over what I am about to do, but being myself is drafting the letter that I need to send in to the offices of the LDS church. Maybe it will take a few months for me to get up the courage, but I can do it. My name is Amy and I am more than just an ex-Mormon.