Tulips in Amsterdam

I went to Keukenhof as part of my trip. SO glad!! We almost didn't go, because it was a four-hour drive. The stay in the hotel was expensive. Sherrie (my aunt)'s car was dying. We went anyways.

It was GORGEOUS! I could never have imagined such a variety of tulips. Here are a few of my favorites.

 (I took most of the pictures in the first hour. We were there for about six hours. I came to the realization that the pictures couldn't do it justice, and there were just too many to capture them all...)

Germany!!

I'm here. Its amazing!! Day 1 was hard... Everyday since then has been tons of fun! I love the scenery, the architecture, the "oldness" of everything, the language, the people, the food, loving it all!!

I want to write more, but I also need to sleep. (It's 1 AM here, and I'm tired!)
Here's some of my favorite pictures so far:

Traveling totally agrees with me. I will be doing a lot of this in the future!

Correct Principles

I got an email this morning. It said, "I know when you follow correct principles, you'll go back." The email didn't say what that meant... church? marriage? Utah County? Who knows? I am a lot more grounded, because I didn't get upset. I just saw it as a very controlling (and abusive) way of thinking. Virtually what he was saying is, "I'll know when you're following correct principles, because you'll do what I would do."

I shared this with BJ. He nodded and said, "That is exactly the way I was taught to think. 'If you knew what I know, you'd do what I do. I'm changing, but I used to be this way."

Then he started talking about all of the times he has approached life with that idea. I'm not sure why he picked ice cream to talk about, but he did.

"If I just explain to you how much better vanilla ice cream is than chocolate, you'd like vanilla better. How could anyone like chocolate better? Its gross. Vanilla is smoother, not as strong. Chocolate is bitter. And with vanilla, you can add fruit to it... mmmm."

I had to stop him. I was losing my mind. I was believing that I was wrong to prefer chocolate.

As I started talking about the silly belief about ice cream, I realized how I've believed that about everything. Whatever I liked was not as good as what other people liked. Whatever I thought, wanted, felt, desired, hoped for, believed, etc, was not as good as everyone else.

I've never come from the place, "If you knew what I know, you'd do what I do." I came from the opposite place. "I'll learn what you know, so I can do what you do."

I was both laughing and crying.
Two days ago, I listened to Everyday Joy where Angie talked about how she felt like she was always doing everything wrong, because it wasn't what everyone else was doing. I listened to her and thought, "Angie. I love YOU. Trust you. You're the best Angie there is, so don't try to be Jen or anyone else but Angie..." I did not connect what she was saying to me...

...until I started laughing and crying at myself. Even my taste in ice cream is wrong, because it isn't what everyone else likes. (Eating disorder also assigns some judgment to chocolate. A person that prefers fruit is better than a person that prefers chocolate.)

BJ also pointed out that the idea, "If you knew what I know..." would create controlling people. It would also create the reverse. ME. I hate fighting. Even for my own wants. So, I became the opposite, but I don't want to be that anymore.

I like chocolate ice cream. I don't like fruit in my ice cream, except for very rare occasions.
I'm living correct principles, because they are MY principles.
I believe I do what I do, because I know what I know, and because I want what I want, and because I am who I am.

"You never need to defend yourself or your desires to anyone, as those inner feelings are Spirit speaking to you. Those thoughts are sacred, so don't ever let anyone trample on them." - Dr. Wayne Dyer

I'm outta here!

Spending money has always been hard for me. I like to work to save.

While married, I never had money. Both of my exes didn't make much money. The first one never worked, and the second one always worked for commission only. Living in poverty did not help my issues with money.

Now, I'm on my own. Every penny I make, I get to choose where it goes. I've been saving up a little each month.

A couple weeks ago my siblings were all trying to convince my mom to go to Germany. Her sister is living there until April 30th. She was hemming and hawing a little. She wasn't sure if she wanted to go by herself. I asked how much it would cost, and it turns out it is EXACTLY what I have saved up.

So, I bought the tickets. I'm going to Germany. Spending more than $1000 on myself. Just for fun. I will have no savings after this trip. That scares me a little (okay, a lot!), AND I am SO excited!!

I haven't traveled much. Always too expensive. Its impractical. There are people and causes and things that need that money and that time more than I do. At least that is the way I used to think.

I've always thought I would love traveling. I love people, history, culture, and exploring. It makes sense that I would enjoy going to new places. Now I get to see if I'll like it or not.

This is a new Jen. This Jen lives her passions. This Jen LIVES! For today. And for herself.

Woo Hoo!!!

Angry Song

One of my favorite things is playing the piano while others sing. One of my brother, Justin's, favorite things is to sing. I spend many Sundays at my parents' house for dinner, and I usually play the piano while Justin sings.

Here is my angry song.
Justin's voice. The pounding on the piano. The lyrics.
When I'm angry, there is just no better therapy than this.

Lyrics: The Facade from Jekyll and Hyde
There's a face that we wear
In the cold light of day -
It's society's mask,
It's society's way,
And the truth is
That it's all a facade!

There's a face that we hide Till the nighttime appears,
And what's hiding inside, Behind all of our fears,
Is our true self,
Locked inside the facade!

Every day
People, in their own sweet way,
Like to add a coat of paint,
And be what they ain't!

That's how our little - Game is played,
Livin' like a masquerade
Actin' a bizarre charade -
While playing the saint!

But there's one thing I know,
And I know it for sure:
This disease that we've got
Has got no ready cure!
And I'm certain
Life is terribly hard -
When your life's a facade!

Look around you!
I have found You cannot tell, by lookin' at the surface,
What is lurkin' there beneath it!
See that face!
Now, I'm prepared to bet you,
What you see's not what you get -
'Cause man's a master of deceit !

So, what is the sinister secret?
The lie he will tell you is true? -
It's that each man you meet
In the street
Isn't one man but two!

Nearly everyone you see -
Like him an' her, An' you, an' me - Pretends to be
A pillar of society - A model for propriety - Sobriety
An' piety - Who shudders at the thought Of notoriety!

The ladies an' gents 'ere before you -
Which none of 'em ever admits -
May 'ave saintly looks -
But they're sinners an' crooks!

Hypocrites! Hypocrites!

There are preachers who kill!
There are killers who preach!
There are teachers who lie!
There are liars who teach!
Take yer pick, dear -
"Cause it's all a facade!

If we're not one, but two,
Are we evil or good?
Do we walk the fine line -
That we'd cross if we could?
Are we waiting -
To break through the facade?

One or two
Might look kinda well-to-do -
Hah! They're bad as me an' you,
Right down to they're boots!

I'm inclined to think -
Half mankind
Thinks the other half is blind!
Wouldn't be surprise to find -
They're all in cahoots!

At the end of the day,
They don't mean what they say,
They don't say what they mean,
They don't ever come clean -
And the answer -
Is it's all a facade!
Is it's all a facade!
Man is not one, but two,
He is evil and good,
An' he walks the fine line
We'd all cross if we could!

It's a nightmare -
We can never discard -
So we stay on our guard -
Though we love the facade -
What's behind the facade?
Look behind the facade!

Doesn't he have an awesome voice?? I'm such a proud sister.

Abuse, Church, Love

Silver Rain wrote a post on abuse... understanding abusers and their partners... I've read a lot of books, but this one takes on many of the Christian and LDS teachings that made me believe I had to stay. I could fix it.

"Part of the difficulty is reconciling the reality of abuse with the gospel. The scriptures teach us to turn the other cheek, to give the cloak with the coat, to walk the extra mile. They teach faith, hope, charity: the exact things an abuser uses to entice and entrap. He uses them deliberately, whether consciously or not.

How does a person who believes in those things reconcile them with the evidence that they do not work, that they, in fact, make things worse?"

The thing is, I couldn't. I couldn't reconcile it. I still can't. She talks about how she has, and I feel guilt and shame that I can't.

I understand that being kind to others is universal. I don't ever want to hurt anyone, but standing up for myself does NOT hurt people. Turning the other cheek is a dumb idea. I don't like it. I've tried it. It just left me bruised and battered on both sides. And I can't ever see myself suggesting that kind of thing to anyone.

If someone is hitting me, the best thing is to walk away. I actually believe that when they hit me, it hurts them as well. I don't walk away just for them, but I do believe it benefits everyone.

I don't want to discount the comfort others have found. I don't want to take away from the fact that someone else can reconcile it. I also am tired of blaming myself that I can't reconcile it. What if what I want and the way I see the world is different? What if my way makes me happy? As long as I don't harm another, is that okay?

I just don't believe the things I was taught about how to love others was actually love. Love is seeing the beauty in other people, nature, buildings, everything... Love is seeing the beauty. Without expectations. From me or from them. That is the kind of love I want in my life. That kind of love makes me happy.

Abusive Relationships

General Conference is this weekend. It always causes me great stress. In the same way Sundays used to. I'd get anxious beforehand. Church would make me completely crazy. I'd spend half the week recovering, and then start the cycle all over again. Conference is worse in many ways, but better because it is only twice a year.

I have several friends who have been in (or are still in) abusive relationships. They leave. They go back. They get hurt (emotionally more often than physically). They leave. In the books I've read about abusive relationships, it says it takes the average woman seven times before they leave for good. Why is that?

One goes back because her abuser cries and says he can't live without her.
One goes back because her abuser tells her SHE is the problem, and he wants to be happy with her... if SHE just changes, they could be happy together. She believes him.
One goes back because his abuser tells him, she's changed. She deserves another chance. And he needs to see.
I want to watch conference this weekend, because I want to know if leaving was really the right thing to do.

I didn't leave the church because I talked with "anti-mormons". I didn't leave the church because I wanted to sin. I didn't leave the church because I was offended and couldn't let go of my anger. (Well, actually, maybe I did leave because I was offended. The leaders, their teachings, and the things they did and said were harmful and thus offensive to me.) I left the church because the relationship I had with the church was an abusive one.

I believed the church had no problems - it was always ME. The reason I hated church, was because there was something wrong with me. I wasn't righteous enough. I wasn't good enough. I needed to repent. I had the wrong thoughts. I had the wrong feelings. I was bad. They didn't need to change. I did.

In all of my relationships, I falsely believed if I just changed me enough, the relationships would be good and happy. It does NOT work that way. I can only be responsible for my half of the relationship. And just because I am good, kind, loving, serving, righteous, devoted, etc., does NOT mean that the other person will treat me with love, respect, kindness, etc., and it does not mean I will be happy.

I went to bishop after bishop asking them why I wasn't happy. I told them how I didn't like the temple. I told them how much I hated church. I told them I didn't like the way I felt when I read the scriptures. They told me I needed to repent. Over and over and over I looked for something to repent for. I'd confess every thought, every deed, everything, and I still felt horrible. I went to the temple more. Read the scriptures more. Looked for the good. Served others more. Prayed for God to make me different. Make me into someone who doesn't need other people. Make me into someone who can give and give and give and never want anything in return. Make me into someone who never feels angry. Or sad. Or hurt. Make me into someone who loves the church. Change ME!

The most abusive relationship I have ever experienced is the one I had with the church. The hardest relationship to let go of is the one I have with the church. Even though it has now been nearly a year and a half since I last went, and I no longer claim to be a member, I still feel guilt and fear and shame for wanting to get out. I still feel like I have to go back.

With conference coming, that feeling intensifies. I HAVE to listen. Have to do what they say. I can not think for myself. I am no good without them. If I just change ME enough, I'll be happy there...Or maybe, I was wrong about them. Maybe they don't teach things that are harmful. Maybe I am just crazy, and I interpret everything all wrong. They don't mean what they say... And I should know that.

As I write this, I feel fear. What if no one believes me? What if no one understands and tells me (yet again) I am wrong? What if it is ME that is the problem? What if...???

I had one session with a therapist that I call DBT Guy. I shared with him an argument that I had had with Ex#2. I told him all of the things I needed to do different, so we wouldn't argue. He didn't buy it. DBT Guy's response was, "You aren't the problem."

I was confused. Of course I'm the problem. I'm ALWAYS the problem. He pointed out that I was angry, but he said I SHOULD be angry. When someone refuses to take "no" as an answer to a request, and keeps pushing, we are supposed to feel angry.

He said it MANY times in that 50 minutes session.
"YOU are not the problem."

That was almost two years ago. It has taken me a long time to believe that maybe it wasn't MY fault. Maybe I am actually okay just the way I am. Maybe I don't need to change and become perfected by someone else's definition of perfect. Maybe... Just maybe... It is okay to walk away from someone who tells me that I need to change to make them happy. (Or any other reason someone ELSE tells me I need to change.)

In my opinion, a relationship becomes abusive when one person tells someone else they are not good enough. They need to change. And at the same time, won't let that person leave the relationship. (You are not good enough for me, but I won't let you be with anyone else.) That is what it felt like being a member of the church. I wasn't good enough for them, but I didn't have the choice to leave.

Only, I did. I have the choice. I am not ever going to go back to a place or a relationship with anyone or any organization that makes me feel less than.

The Scream

Back when I was inpatient, and I had group therapy a million times a day, we had a group where the therapist decided to practice "scream therapy".

He had each of us find a spot in the room. Then told us to scream our hearts out. I could not do it. Not a peep came out of my lips. I actually covered my ears, closed my eyes, and curled up in a ball. The sound, the emotions, and my own desire to scream was too much for me.

I spent a lot of time in the mountains. I WANTED to scream. I felt like if I could just scream loud enough and long enough, all the pain would get out of me. When I was out with Sunny and BJ, I'd try. I'd yell and swear, but there was something about screaming that was too... primal... for me.

This afternoon, BJ got an email from his son. BJ asked, "If you sister was being beaten by her husband, what would you counsel her to do?" He only read one line to me, and it was too much.

I screamed. And screamed. And screamed.
No swear words. No words at all. Just a scream from deep inside.

Don't talk about the abuse. Don't tell anyone that he beats you. Don't share the secrets. Protect him. Protect the marriage.

I BELIEVED this. I BELIEVED that to use my voice to share what happened to me was wrong. I WAS WRONG. My voice is the only thing I can use. My voice is the only power I have to stop abuse. (That and my ability to walk away from the abuse.)

It turns out, I can scream. Really loud and really long.

(And if I were answering the question, What counsel would you give your sister? I'd tell her to get out. Leave. Then sort out the whys and what-fors. Once she is away, THEN decide if the relationship is worth working for. If it has gotten to the point of abuse, there is A LOT that she is going to have to learn and fight through. It won't just go away, and she needs a lot of help and support. That said, each person has their own journey... I would want my sister to know she is loved. No. Matter. What.)

Indiscriminate Self Sacrifice

This morning on Everyday Joy, they were talking about the movie Avatar. In the chatroom, someone shared that they didn't like the movie. I loved it... It was a big deal for me... I SAW people defend themselves, and I didn't feel like that was bad. I wasn't angry at the people for trying to protect their world.

I shared that in the chatroom... It was such a foreign concept to this person: "Survival instinct will force you to defend yourself."

Nope. Not in my world.

When I was inpatient at CFC, Paul (therapist) liked to give people signs to wear. I willingly wore every sign he gave me, except one. I don't remember exactly what it said, but it had the word "martyr" on it. I refused to wear it. I told him I wasn't a martyr. There were some assignments he gave me that I fought because they weren't what I needed. This was not one of those times. I knew it. I think he knew it, but I flat out refused, so what could he do??

Some might think I didn't want the martyr sign, because being a martyr is bad... That wasn't the case for me. A martyr was the BEST kind of person, but I wasn't one. I was still alive. I had survived, so therefore, I wasn't good enough. (It sounds really crazy to write this now, but I BELIEVED it.)

"Greater love hath no man than to give his life for his friends."
The stories of Joseph, Hyrum, and Christ... If I wanted to be good like them, I couldn't value my own life, so I didn't. (Direct result of not valuing my own life: sitting in an eating disorder treatment center, literally starving to death, and only eating because someone else told me THEY needed me to eat.)

How this played out in my life:
Ex-Husband #1 raped me, and I laid there. I thought his needs were so much more important than my pain, my sadness, my fear. THIS was love for him.
I gave money I didn't have to people who said they needed it.
I worked two jobs, had three callings, went to the temple, listened to friends as they shared their heartaches, reached out to the lonely, and no matter how much I did or gave or tried, it wasn't enough, because I WAS STILL ALIVE.
I stayed with Ex#2, even when he was physically violent. It hurt me, but it was okay, because I LOVED him... and if he needed to kill me, that was what needed to happen. (It never crossed my mind how AWFUL that would have been for him. I was SO confused.)
My cat sat on my lap, flexed her claws in my skin, and I did nothing. It drew blood, I think I felt pain, but I didn't do anything to stop her.
I didn't tell people about the violence in my life, because I didn't want anyone to protect me. I didn't want anyone to get hurt.

I was so ashamed of being alive, I was willing to die slowly by starvation rather than face the guilt and the shame.

Paul eventually changed his terminology. He came up with the phrase "indiscriminate-self-sacrifice". I was willing to sacrifice myself, my wants, my needs, my life for anyone, anything, everything, and everyone.

I'm slowly unlearning all the things I learned. I'm worth protecting. I can feel safe and happy and still be a good person. I don't want to ever harm someone else, AND I will take care of me. I can have needs and wants, and express them, and still be loved. That's what is has always been about, I just wanted to be loved, and I didn't know there was any other way.

Serenity

In the book Controlling People, it basically says that when a person thinks they know what I feel (without me telling them), that is controlling.When I think I know what someone else is thinking or feeling, or that I can change what they are thinking and feeling, that is controlling.

I've been thinking about this a lot lately.

A few years ago, after leaving CFC (eating disorder treatment), but still VERY new in this whole healing process, I had to make a decision. I knew what I needed to do to heal my life, but I knew other people would think I was crazy. I kept trying to find another way around it, but finally gave up. "I don't care what people think. I don't care what other people do. Here goes nothing."

For me, what happened next was terrifying. I stopped trying to control myself so that I could control what everyone else thought of me. I cried uncontrollably for hours at a time. I screamed and ran away when I was scared, even though there was a part of me that could have controlled myself, I didn't try. I left the church. I withdrew from my family.

Some people thought I was crazy. Some people thought I was a bitch. Some people thought I was incredibly selfish. I had to give up who I thought I was, and who I thought others wanted me to be, and I had to give up the idea that I could change what other people thought of me.

I was threatened with hospitalization. I was able to say, "I'll go if that is what you need me to do. I understand that this is MY journey, and you are not required to go with me. I trust you to take care of you."

I ended up not going, and I'm glad... But that is not the point. I finally trusted me enough to let go, and I trusted the people in my life enough to let go of them. I didn't know what the end product would look like. There was a lot I didn't know, and it really didn't matter.

I didn't feel the need to control anything. Not me. Not them. Whatever happened, happened.

Fast forward to now.
I got the email from my cousin. Sent me into a kind of crazy place. At the same time, I was getting emails from BJ's kids and ex. They were telling me how I ruined his life. The combination was a little more than I could handle, and I went back to old ways of thinking.

I started to believe I was responsible for his choices. I started to believe I was responsible for their choices. I started to believe I couldn't trust myself or them or him. I forgot to even THINK about what I needed, even though that is the only thing I could know. I was trying to control what everyone else thought, rather than take care of myself.

I was quickly becoming all that I hated.
Luckily, I have some amazing friends. I changed course. I stopped trying to control what others were thinking and instead decided to face the things I could face: the memories and the secrets from my cousin.

I'm not going to say this is easy, it is NOT. I'm hurting. I'm crying. I'm scared. I'm sad. At the same time, I'm trusting the people around me to take care of themselves, and trusting me to do what is best for me, and knowing that whatever happens next is okay.

I cannot control what other people think about me.
Believing that I can, only makes me (and everyone else) incredibly miserable.
Knowing that I can't, frees me to live.

God, grant me serenity to accept the things I cannot change.

Courage to change the things I can.

And wisdom to know the difference.

Five Years Old

Its been a while since I've written here. Two weeks ago, I got an email from my cousin. She has been on her own path of healing. From my posts on facebook, she came to the conclusion that we have been through some similar experiences. She has tried to pretend she is okay for a long time. In a moment of clarity (but full of a lot of her own fears)she reached out to me.

Our healing paths have now intersected in a way that I never imagined.
Some of my own questions may have just found an answer.
I feel like I have just found the final piece to completely heal my life. I have worked my way through a lot...
Since her email, I have felt like I was five years old. Feeling all of the same emotions that I felt then. I kept trying to push through it. Be an adult. Got involved in other people's problems and life rather than deal with my own. Tried to run away from the present to get away from the past.

Today, I finally stopped running, working, caretaking, and pushing everything aside. I wanted to hide in the closet, so I did. I cried. And cried. And cried. And then, I wanted to be held, wrapped in a blanket. I wanted a snack and a movie on TV. So, that's what I did.

Tucked in to a blanket. Hugging my stuffed hedgehog. Watching How to Train Your Dragon. Eating a Twix.

When I was five, I was hurt. I hid in the closet. I cried. And then my mom, who was hurting and struggling herself, told me she couldn't handle my tears. She needed me to just stop crying.

I needed a mommy. I needed someone to hold me while I cried. I needed someone to ask about my pain. I needed someone to tuck me in, bring me a treat, and put a movie on TV to help distract and comfort me. I needed that, but I didn't get it.

Today, I was able to give myself exactly what I needed.

Sexuality isn't about Sex

I belong to a group on facebook of mostly ex-Mormons. It has been the most amazing, loving, supporting group. They have ALL helped me tons! Angie wrote about the group here. This morning someone posted these questions. I shared them on the board, but I'd like to share them here too.

-Have you changed opinions regarding sexual practices or activity such as pornography or masturbation, or simply become more open about your previous lifestyle?
I always believed that pornography was not the problem. Back then, I believed it was a symptom of a larger problem. I still believe that is true... But my definition of porn has changed. It used to be anything sexual at all was considered pornographic... Now, porn is only the violent degradation of women: Depicting them as objects rather than as people. I don't demonize anyone who looks or participates... I just wonder how it affects women and men who forget that other people have emotions and feelings. With Larry, I FELT like I was just an object to be used when he wanted to get off, and ignored otherwise. Anything that feels like that is harmful.

I started cutting when I was only 7... to stop myself from masturbating. It took me 23 years to see the connection of why I started hurting myself. When I was going through therapy to heal from sexual abuse, ALL of the books talk about learning to "please yourself" first. Several therapists suggested it as a way to deal with flashbacks and pain of body memories. Between the guilt and the fear that had been there since I was a kid, and the belief that it was wrong... I could not.

Now I see nothing wrong with a person masturbating. If it is compulsive, interferes with life, or there is a lot of guilt and shame attached to it, there is a problem. It seems to me like a natural release. (And guilt and fear still tell me "I could never!" I still have a hard time touching my own arms, because of the pleasure I feel. I'm working on it...)

-Are there 'things' you have done since departure that you would never have done while an active member?
I live with a man who is not my husband... Not sexually involved, but the guilt of "appearing evil" would have kept me from having a friendship with a man... I was taught that nothing should come before my husband and my marriage. In order to keep that marriage alive, I had to eliminate all friendships, wants, desires, hobbies, hopes, dreams, etc... In my mind, my ability to see me as a person, an individual, a woman with her own wants, is ALL part of my developing sexuality.

-Are you more liberal in your views of homosexuality and bisexuality than you were previously or simply more open?
I am both more liberal and more open. Prop 8 was a big deal for me. I didn't like it, but I felt like if I just prayed harder, I could understand... When prop 8 was overturned, and I felt like that was a good thing, it was a sign to me that I had really moved on from the church.

-Big one, what are your previous and current views on monogamy?
I don't believe in marriage, but I think I do believe in a monogamous sexual relationship. I believe I need to have the freedom to come and go in a relationship... as long as it is healthy and beneficial for me, I will stay. As long as it is not, I won't. And I want anyone I care about to have the same freedom.
I believe that the instant I put my happiness in someone else's hands, I will die. I will trust only me with my happiness.
When I do decide to add sex to a relationship, if that ever happens, I want it to be something talked about often... and just because we have sex doesn't mean that then we are tied together forever... same freedoms apply. I will NOT be someone else's property. Ever.
I have LONG believed sex is what a "strong" person does TO a "weak" person. That is one of the reasons I have had no interest. I haven't wanted to hurt someone else, like I have been hurt. (And I hated the being hurt side too.)

This is something I am still working out in my head.

-Finally, what bad decisions and good decisions regarding sexuality in any form have you made since departure?
I haven't really made any decisions, so there haven't been any to BE good or bad.

As I read back over my answers, I realize the most powerful thing (for me) I said was, "My ability to see me as a person, an individual, a woman with her own wants, is ALL part of my developing sexuality"

I remember a conversation with Jen... I asked her how she "knew" she was lesbian. I shared that I am terrified of men, but I don't feel attraction to women. Her words were amazing, and I still think about them often.

She talked about learning to love herself. Then learning to love everyone else. And then she could wake up to the love that had been a secret inside her. She pointed out that she loves men, she just doesn't want to have sex with them. At the time, I was so anxious to figure out my own sexuality... I needed to KNOW, so I could give myself the right label and "move on."

Her words inspired my post on being asexual. I don't have to have sex with anyone. I just get to be me... whatever that looks like, whoever that is.

As I've relaxed, and not needed to KNOW... I have found amazing peace. I am learning to love myself. Find my wants. Needs. Desires. Hopes. Dreams. See myself as an individual. As a woman. It feels good.

"my expression is about me"

I turned on Jen and Angie's blogcast, "Everyday Joy".
Jen talked about the Universe's wake up calls. She talked about the thing she has learned this week:
"my expression is about me."

At that moment, I got an email saying BJ's son had sent me a message.

I wrote the response, but was feeling... uneasy. I needed help seeing. I asked Norm for help. I knew he knew some of the story, he wouldn't judge, and it felt like I needed to ask him.

I had him read the blog and BJ's son's response. This was his question:

"What makes you think that you can change his mind about you any more than you might be able to change anyones mind about the church?"

My reply was perfectly me. Just what I needed to hear and to know.

"I don't. I don't expect him to listen or hear me, so my responding isn't about him. My words probably will be used against me. Twisted to serve the church, or his stories, or something else... My response is about me speaking up and not hiding because my voice is "useless"."

At which point, he told me that he didn't need to give me any advice. I knew what to do. And I know he's right. I just needed to find that. This isn't about BJ, or his son, or the church, or anyone but me. I have long believed my voice was useless, so I never spoke up. I thought if I couldn't change the world around me, there was no reason to talk, to sing, to laugh. It has always been about everyone else... and in a backwards way about myself. Today, I can finally see in a forwards way its about me. This is a part of what I sent back:
(I'm only leaving the parts that I thought could be beneficial to others. Anything personal to BJ's son's letter, I removed.)

I appreciate you asking, and I'm grateful you sent me the message.  

I can't speak for BJ and his authenticity. All I know is that he has said he is now being authentic. I trust him to speak for himself.

Having traveled the road of trying to figure out how to be authentic... it IS hard. It hurts. There is a cost. And the longer we have pretended to be something we aren't, the harder it is. The trouble with masks is when we take them off, no one recognizes us. I know many people would say authenticity is NOT worth it, and that is something we can only say for ourselves. I don't get to make that choice for anyone but me. No friend, bishop, parent, spouse can choose or decide for me... And I can't choose for them.

Authenticity is not about what you do... I would define authenticity as "doing what you believe", being who you are. Authenticity will look different for each one of us.

I'm about to give advice. You didn't ask for it. Its free. Take it for what its worth. If your dad tells you he is being authentic, believe him. If your dad tells you he wasn't happy, believe him. Listen to him. He knows himself better than you or me or anyone else.

When I finished talking with Norm, I was shaking. Whole body vibrating enough that I thought I was going to pass out. I laid down on the floor for an hour and just shook.

I can't explain exactly what was happening, but my theory is that I'm coming together. A few more pieces of me that have been broken off and separated are not broken off anymore.

Healing Words

About a month ago, I was having a pretty tough time. I had found out about the Stake Pres sharing information about me. Specifically, he spoke to several of my bishops who shared with him how much money the church had given me. The Stake President then shared that information with Ginger.

I wanted to stand up for myself. Not because I thought he would care, but just as a "I don't allow people to do hurtful things to me anymore. I confront abusive behavior."

I called him. He said I had no right to bring any of this up, and the only reason I even cared was because I was feeling guilty. He said a lot of crap that sounded like a lot of the bullshit I have heard for most of my life.

"It doesn't matter what I did to you, YOU are so bad, you deserve it."

I was upset. I decided to stop at my parents' home.
I shared with my mom what the Stake Pres had said, and then shared with her how I believed it, even though I also knew he was wrong. My dad came in. Said he was glad I was there. I wanted to crawl in a hole. I was so scared of what he was going to say next.

He then shared with me that he has been praying about me. (Oh dear God, not now. I can't take any more right now.)
He then shocked me in a most WONDERFUL way:
"I support your decision not to go to church. I think it is exactly what YOU need right now, today."
I felt hopeful, happy, excited, and wary.
"What if I never go back?"
He said, "I've thought about that, and I don't care. I see the sparkle in your eyes and the brightness in your face, and I love that. I love YOU! I love having YOU in my home, and I'd rather have that. It just doesn't matter if you go to church or not."

I cried.

Several months ago, I was reading a letter written by a father to Boyd K. Packer about Packer's teachings on homosexuality. I got to the end of the letter, and I cried. This father was choosing his son's happiness over what Packer had to say. I WANTED that. I wanted my dad to see me, and to choose me, just like that dad had done.

I understood that my expectation might have been too much. I understood that my very active Mormon dad would always want me to go to church. And all of the understanding in the world didn't take that desire, that NEED away.

Since that day, my dad and I have had some deep discussions. I have shared my doubts and many of my questions. With every question, he has said, "I have never thought about that. Let me get back to you," and then he has... Not with the General Authority answer, but with Dad's answer. Again, it feels amazing.

One conversation was about fear and guilt. He apologized for raising me in a home with so much fear. He said he didn't know any better back then, and he does now. He talked about how his fear lead him to do things that really hurt his kids.

We talked about how even though he has apologized, and I have forgiven him, I am still dealing with the consequences of his parenting. Similar to if someone had accidentally broke my leg. Even if they apologized, and I forgave them, my leg would still be broken until it healed. I used to pretend like my leg wasn't broken, so he wouldn't have to feel the pain. It required me to hide ME to protect him. No one is hiding now, and that feels amazing.

Our last conversation was last week. I don't remember what I said... His answer was, "We all have to start with a foundation of loving ourselves. The church gets in the way of you loving yourself, therefore, its not good for you. Find that foundation. I love you."

When I started on my journey to heal my life, one of the things I kept FEELING deep down was that if I healed me, I could help heal my dad. It never made sense to me... how could I make a difference for him? I won't pretend that I understand it, or even pretend that I am right. It just feels so good... and it FEELS deep down that I am healing more than just me.

I know I am incredibly lucky. I know so many people will never hear these words from their active Mormon families. I feel so grateful.

"the guilty taketh the truth to be hard"

I'm reading the book Controlling People.
The book says that ANY time a person believes they know what you think, feel, believe, etc., without you telling them, they are pretending. Pretending (in this way) is a sign of a controlling person.

I have believed that other people can tell me what I think. What I feel. Who I am. What I believe. What I do. What I don't do. I have accepted other people's definitions of me.

I used to believe that my defensive or angry feeling was a sign that I was wrong.

I cannot tell you how many times I have been told, "The guilty take the truth to be hard. The reason you're arguing is because you know I'm right. The reason you're upset is because you feel guilty." and I BELIEVED them. I tried to squelch my own thoughts and feelings, because someone else knew better than I did.

A recent example came from BJ's ex's stake president. JM told me the only reason I was upset at his breech of my confidentiality was because I felt so guilty for not living up to my covenants. He actually quoted the scripture, "The guilty taketh the truth to be hard." (1 Nephi 16:2)

First, How does Nephi know what Laman and Lemuel are feeling? Why they are upset? He is PRETENDING to know. That is controlling. And the LDS world sets Nephi up as an example to follow?!?

Second, How can JM, the Stake Pres, POSSIBLY know how I feel. He is also pretending. He can't know why I am doing things. He can't know what I think, what I feel, who I am, because I have never told him. He is also controlling.

Everything I was ever taught, was backwards. All of the men (and women) who pretended to know what I was thinking and feeling, DIDN'T know. I know. I know better than any bishop, husband, friend, stake president, waiter, stranger, boss, etc.

(Disclaimer: Asking a person if they are feeling (blank) is entirely different than telling a person they are feeling (blank).)

When I felt angry at Larry (Ex-Husband#1), it wasn't because I was feeling guilty, it was because I didn't like the way he was treating me!
When I felt angry at my dad, it wasn't because I was feeling guilty, it was because I saw something I didn't like. He hurt me. He hurt my brothers.
When I felt angry at Ex-Husband#2, it wasn't because I felt guilty, it was because he was violating my boundaries.
When I felt angry at JM, the Stake Pres, it wasn't because I was feeling guilty, it was because he shared my personal information.
And the list goes on...

Other people can't read my mind. They don't know, even if they think they do.
(And I can't read other people's minds. Even if I think I can.)

I find it fascinating to be able to see the world through these new eyes.
I finally SEE and understand what I have felt for a long time.

Smoked pork = YUM!

You're all going to laugh at me. Or maybe you'll laugh with me, because I'm laughing at myself.

I wrote the blog entry about learning to trust myself. I'd been thinking about it all day long. Went to dinner with friends. I was enjoying some AMAZING smoked pork. It was fantastic! Laughing. Talking. Having a great time. And then it suddenly hit me.

I am scared to admit that I am happy.
What came next has happened enough that I recognized it... All sort of emotions come bubbling up so fast and big that I can't tell if I am laughing or crying or dying.

I am happy. I laugh. I smile. I really enjoy my life, but there was something inside me that felt like I didn't deserve it... Or that OTHER people would think I didn't deserve it. If I'm not following all the "rules" then I'm not happy.

I feel guilty for being happy... for enjoying my life. There are so many people who are still hurting. Who don't have the amazing things I have, and somewhere in my head I thought if I talk about being happy, I will hurt them.

Also, I PRETENDED to be happy for so long, I haven't known how to just BE happy. It sounds so silly now. When I was pretending to be happy, I shared silly stories about myself, I talked about the foods I loved to eat, I talked about how happy I was, how much I loved my husband, how much I loved the church... I lied. And now that I'm more FOR REALS happy, I feel confused.

I've actually developed boundaries that are really healthy. I don't allow people to take advantage of me, and I really don't live up to any expectations anyone has of me. I really am ME. (I do get sucked into craziness every once in a while, just not nearly as often as I used to. And I don't stay down nearly as long.)

The piece that is missing is my smile. The REAL smile.
I love smoked pork!
I tripped over a pontoon boat yesterday. Who trips over a 9 foot boat??
I went to a concert last week. Otter Creek performed for a bunch of exmormons, and I had a great time. I laughed and I cried and I felt GOOD.
I make the best panini sandwiches in the world. They are seriously amazing.
I really love it when I'm in the shower, and I put soap on the loofah, and it sounds like the whole shower is fizzing... I can't explain it, it just makes me smile everyday.
I spent an hour last night playing with my cat. I'd chase her, then she'd chase me. It ended when she fell over and went to sleep. Who wouldn't laugh at that?
I'm currently addicted to the show Eureka. Its absolute silliness, and I love it. And I have a little bit of a crush on Jack Carter. I like him almost as much as I liked Scarecrow from Scarecrow and Mrs. King. They're both just so cute!
I love going on walks and crunching the ice. Hearing it break is very satisfying to me.
Symphony orchestra rehearsals have been awesome! This deserves an entry all its own. Seriously, it is SO cool right now!!

(I still am having a hard time believing that I missed this piece. Silly Jen.)

"I can be trusted."

I was talking to my friend, Jen (not me Jen, another Jen) a while ago. She was sharing the story of her coming out. Everyday for nine months, she told someone new. I can't remember exactly what she said, or how she even said it, because as she was talking fireworks started going off in my head and a voice was shouting, "Listen! Listen!"

It went something like this:
I had to show my spirit that I would choose me over everyone else. I had to show me that I could take care of me.

I thought of the body memories and pain I experience. I have known for a long time that the pain will be there until I can show myself I will take care of and protect myself from being hurt again.

My move was big.
But one big event doesn't make you trust.
It is a series of little events; little things everyday that say, "I can be trusted."

Like Jen's story of talking to someone everyday. Everyday telling someone who she is. I know this is what I need to do, but I really don't know HOW. Or what that even looks like.

What does that look like? How do I show ME that I will take care of me?
I know that I don't allow people to hurt me like I used to. I speak up much more often. I'm learning skills so that I can communicate my needs and wants better. I'm paying attention to my own feelings SO much more.

Is there something I am missing? Does it just take time?
(Jen's story wouldn't have been quite so big to me if I was already doing what I needed to be doing... right?)

Frustration!!!
I want to do something different. I just don't know what...yet.

guilt = inward anger = depression. Solution = put the anger where it belongs.

I so don't want to have to know this stuff!

I was on the phone with Ex#2. Talking about pool, his dates, and he asked if I had read an article he posted on facebook. I HAD in fact read it. I didn't like it.

I hemmed and hawed. (Way to be direct Jen!)
He didn't trust my hemming and hawing, and kept pushing. It was almost in frustration that I said, "Yes. I've read it, and I just didn't like it."

His response: You're so closed-minded. You probably didn't even read it. You can't even tell me what you didn't like about it.

(My next mistake) "I read it. I just... I'm not interested in marriage... and I didn't like the tone..."

Him: You just grab on to one little thing, and you miss everything else. It's not even a big deal, I would just think that you would want to be more open. You missed the whole point. You obviously didn't even read it.

(Another mistake, only this time I realized what I was doing.) "I did read it. I read the whole thing, but... wait... I don't like the way you are talking to me right now."

Him: Oh, so now you're going to get all defensive. Way to deflect... Obviously... so closed-minded and...

And then I did get defensive and frustrated and loud, and then I hung up.
Probably not the best thing to do, but I forgot what came next.
I was all turned around trying to defend myself - even though I recognized I didn't NEED defending.

I picked up the book Controlling People... the one that actually talked about THIS situation.

The book talks about how people pretend to know what we are thinking, feeling, doing, being, etc. It suggests that we don't even engage this kind of behavior. The author's suggestion was to say, "What?"

So, the way it could have gone... is first, I could have been more direct.
Me: Yes. I read it.
If he asked my opinion at that point, I could share it.
Me: I didn't like it.

If I was more direct, he might have been better prepared for a conversation. He might not have jumped on me like he had. If he did...

Him: "You're so closed-minded. You probably didn't even read it."
Me: What?

And then what happens? He repeats it? Gets frustrated at me for not listening to him? Does he change what he said?

Do other people just "get" this stuff? Or does everyone have a problem navigating conversations like this?

Learning to Live

I can't remember if I have shared this before... I didn't feel like going back and looking. I love the words. I love her voice. This is my song for the day.

AHA moment.

I was reading from the book, Respect-Me Rules.

The whole premise of the book is that people abuse us because we let them. And then it gives very simple ways to not let people abuse us. The example that we were working with was "Use Repetition".

BJ wanted to know how that would work. He talked about how he has felt really irritated and frustrated with her when she asks questions.

We roll-played.
I played him. He played his ex.
He asked me a question.

Me (as BJ): I'm feeling irritated and frustrated, and I don't want to talk to you right now. I will answer your questions later.
Him (as Ex): Why can't you just answer right now? What's wrong with you?
Me (as BJ): I'm feeling irritated and frustrated. I will answer your questions later.
Him: (Raising his voice) It would only take you five seconds. Just answer my questions!!
Me (as BJ): (still very quietly and calmly)I don't allow people to talk to me in that tone of voice. I'm feeling angry and frustrated. I will answer your questions later.
Him: (now yelling) You WOULDN'T BE angry or frustrated if you would just answer my questions! Just tell me what I want to know!!!
Me (as BJ): I am leaving. I don't allow people to talk to me in that tone of voice. I will answer your questions when I am ready.
He stood in my way so I couldn't leave. He yelled at me. I stayed calm. I repeated myself. I stepped around him. And then I left.

He asked if I would be able to be that calm if it were real. I thought about it. I still have a really hard time with angry people... but... I also remembered intense conversations with BJ.

I can tell when my emotions are starting to escalate. I can tell the same thing for him. In those moments, I give us physical distance. I stand up and walk across the room. There are times when I have said, "I love you, and I am going for a walk." And I've left. And we always talk about it when I come back.

I have believed that the reason I feel safe with him is because of HIM. That is partially true. He is respectful. He doesn't do abusive things. We talk. Still, he is only half the equation.

I feel safe with him because I am different. I know what to do to keep myself safe, and I do those things. I don't even think about it. I just take care of myself.

I was very pleasantly surprised to realize how much I have changed.

Trust Jen

In the past few weeks, I have opened up to more people. And it has felt awesome in many ways. Knowing that my family loves me even if I don't go to church, or have doubts or questions, or... That has felt amazing.

Downside has been opening myself up to everyone's advice and thoughts on my life.
"You can't be happy..."
"You need to..."
"Why don't you..."

Actually. I KNOW HOW TO TAKE CARE OF ME.

I AM happy. And I have sad days. I don't need to do anything except what I need to do. AND I KNOW WHAT TO DO.

I want to speak out more, and I don't have to do it today.
I do need people in my life, and I choose who those people are and when I interact with them.

Jen, you know what you need. Take care of you. Trust you.

And now I'm going riding, because I do know what I need and what is best for me.

Stories

I love the books by Don Miguel Ruiz. (Four Agreements, The Fifth Agreement, The Voice of Knowledge, and Mastery of Love.)


One of the big foundations for the books is the idea that we are all storytellers. We are all writing our own stories. None of our stories are true, but they are true for us. Even as he says this, he says this is HIS story. He believes his story and he still knows its just a story.

I have had questions about the church my whole life. I have always wanted more than the explanations I got. There were many things that just didn't fit for me. Three years ago, I started writing about it. I started talking about it all. I started this blog. I prayed about it. I stopped forcing myself to believe there was only one answer.

Somewhere I realized, Joseph Smith was just a kid trying to make sense of his world. He found a story that rang true to him, but that didn't make it true for me. And all of the prophets since... just men saying the things that rang true to them. Saying the things that brought them comfort. Or the things that made sense in their life. Possibly even inspired, but just because someone is inspired to say something, does not make it true for everyone.

When Monson gives a talk, he uses the words that help and comfort HIM. When some dude stands up and gives a talk in church, he uses the words that help HIM. Everyone in church. Everyone, everywhere, say the things that help THEM. Most people don't talk from any place other than their own experiences. (I have found the rare person that sees and cares about things outside of their own experience. To me these people are heroes!)

MY words. The stories I tell. The things I share help ME, (well, except for when they don't, but that's another story). I want to help others. All I wanted three years ago was to know that someone else had been through this process and survived. I HOPE I can help someone else, but I don't think for a second that every word I write is for every person out there. How arrogant would a person have to be?

If the Bible and BOM are actual historical documents, then they are several men's stories. The solutions and explanations that worked for them. To say that their solutions and explanations should ALWAYS work for me is false. They won't. They can't. Do those men know what it was like to live with a husband that raped me every day? Can they really offer a solution for that? No. (I KNOW. Many people will say that they can, but they don't... At least I couldn't find a solution or explanation that worked for me.)

I have found peace and comfort from books. The Four Agreements, Tao of Equus, the writings of Thich Nhat Hahn, Time to Break Free, and the books by Wyatt Webb, all of these books have changed my life. I found solutions and explanations that made sense to me. I found ways to understand my dissociation, my body memories, my fears, my thoughts, and a lot more from these books. Still, I don't expect everyone will find the same things I found. Does that take away from my experience? Do my stories make other people's stories any less true to them?

I realize I am all over the place... I was going to say that I wish I could write a beautiful essay that would make perfect sense to everyone reading it. And then I realized I really don't wish that. I want to write my thoughts as raw as possible, and hope that people can still understand.

The King's Speech

I saw the movie The King's Speech yesterday. Loved it.

Warning: I'm about to spoil the whole movie for you!

The story is about King George VI. He had a stammer. He had been to every speech therapist his wife could find. He finally finds himself at the office of Lionel Louge. Lionel says he can help the (still just a) Prince, but he has to do exactly as Lionel says.

They go through exercises, but Lionel is constantly pushing Bertie to talk about his childhood We find out that Bertie had a very mean nanny. She starved him. It took the family three years to discover the problem.

Lionel tells the story of how he got started. He was an English teacher and a sub-par actor at the end of World War I. Soldiers were coming home from the war unable to speak. He decided he could help them. He tells of a group of people who used their voices to cry out for help, and no one heard them, and they lost their voice. His solution, his cure was just to listen to their fears and their pains. Their voices returned.

I never lost my ability to speak, but my voice got lost. And I found some amazing friends that heard me. They listened to ME. Beyond all of the noise. And the traditional advice. And... they heard me. And through their help, I now have a voice... and not a quiet one.

Healing Song

I have no idea what they are saying, but I like the way I feel as they sing. I once had a dream to go live on a Reservation and learn from the Healers. I didn't know anything about traditions and cultures, I just wanted to. I wanted to learn from the people who lived it... I might revisit that dream.

For now, this will have to do.

Redefining Rape

For purposes of abortions, the GOP wants to redefine rape. Only those who were forcibly raped (verses date raped, drugged, coerced, etc.) will get money.

In my mind, the definition of rape should be moving to be MORE inclusive, not less. I posted a link to a petition along with this quote on facebook.

"Bruises and broken bones do not define rape - a lack of consent does.I could have fought him harder, and I would be bruised, broken, and possibly dead, but I chose not to. I chose to survive. Don't make me pay more for that choice than I already do."

And now I'm panicking.

What will they think of me? Will people blame me? Will people think I'm lying? Will people think I'm dirty? or that I should have fought him to the death (thank you SWK!) or... how can I even say I was raped? I was married after all... and when I fought him, he really hurt me, but since most of the time I didn't fight... And withholding sex from him isn't right... But the more I learn about healthy sexual relationships - it wasn't sex he ever wanted from me. That would require two equals, and I wasn't an equal. Not ever.

I have never had to go through the pain of stranger rape. But I HAVE known what it was like to have that stolen from me. That I didn't matter as much as his violent urges.

I don't care what the government's definition was or is. It was wrong. I believed I HAD to do what he wanted, but I didn't. And if laws can protect other people from going through the hell, I will fight for those laws!

F**kin Perfect!

(I purposely didn't use Pink's video. Between the sex and the self-harm, it triggered the hell out of me... Its amazing... I just needed a milder form today.)

The lyrics:
Made a wrong turn, once or twice
Dug my way out, blood and fire
Bad decisions, that's alright
Welcome to my silly life
Mistreated, misplaced, misunderstood
Miss 'No way, it's all good', it didn't slow me down
Mistaken, always second guessing, underestimated
Look, I'm still around

Pretty pretty please, don't you ever ever feel
Like you're less than f*ckin' perfect
Pretty pretty please, if you ever ever feel like you're nothing
You're f*ckin' perfect to me!

You're so mean, when you talk about yourself, you were wrong
Change the voices in your head, make them like you instead
So complicated, look happy, you'll make it!
Filled with so much hatred...such a tired game
It's enough! I've done all I can think of
Chased down all my demons, I've seen you do the same

Oh, pretty pretty please, don't you ever ever feel
Like you're less than f*ckin' perfect
Pretty pretty please, if you ever ever feel like you're nothing
You're f*ckin' perfect to me

The whole world's scared so I swallow the fear
The only thing I should be drinking is an ice cold beer
So cool in line, and we try try try, but we try too hard and it's a waste of my time
Done looking for the critics, cause they're everywhere
They dont like my jeans, they don't get my hair
Exchange ourselves, and we do it all the time
Why do we do that? Why do I do that?

Why do I do that..?

Yeah, oh, oh baby, pretty baby..!
Pretty pretty please, don't you ever ever feel
Like you're less than f*ckin' perfect
Pretty pretty please, if you ever ever feel
Like you're nothing, you're fucking perfect to me
You're perfect, you're perfect!
Pretty pretty please, if you ever ever feel like you're nothing
You're fuckin' perfect to me...

...walking around with my skin peeled off.

A friend once told me that trauma work was like "walking around in the sun with your skin peeled off". I thought the analogy was PERFECT. Its painful, and I feel vulnerable, and painful, and other people don't know quite how to handle me, and...

I'd forgotten just what it feels like. For more than two years, I felt it everyday, all day, all the time, never a break. But with life being calmer the last six months, I was beginning to forget.

I've had a rough couple of days. I shared things about myself that were hard to share. Although the feedback I have gotten has been 100% positive, I have still felt icky.

I realized this afternoon, when all I wanted to do was hide in my room, I've now bared myself. Everyone has been very kind, better than I could have expected, but it hurts to peel off your skin...

I'm feeling very vulnerable and raw. I'm not planning on disappearing, and I need some time to nurse the raw wounds. I'm taking extra special care of myself. I've spent most of the day curled up in a blanket in the backyard with Sunny. (Thank goodness its above freezing!) I don't know how long I'll need, and I will take just the right amount for me.

Just More

I shared my last entry (How I destroyed a marriage) with an online group as well as here. I had thought about sharing the story, but kept stopping myself. "If they know, they'll hate me."

Finally, I realized that wasn't who I wanted to be. If they're going to hate me for the choices that I make... I'd rather be honest and hated then pretend and ASSUME they'll hate me.

The responses were amazing! Most were super kind and very protective of me. One, just made my day:

"For those who are concerned about Jen's welfare, I think you're awesome. Many of you have never met her, and you're still this concerned for her.

But I wanted to give you some insider info, as one who has met Jen IRL. When I saw her the first time at a CALM meeting (back in October) she looked so brittle, timid and scared... I thought she would shatter if I looked at her funny.

I have a hard time reconciling that image with how she is now. More confident. More centered. More... just more. I think now that I'd be more scared she'd feed me my own teeth if I looked at her funny. She's able to express anger at the church, and at the people who harmed her in a way she couldn't before. Before, I didn't get the impression that expressing that anger was easy, or possible in some cases.

And she's gonna keep getting better."

I have felt that I am becoming more. More calm, more confident, more centered, just more. And it helped to have someone who has only known for a few months to repeat that.

I used to be so afraid of who I was. I was afraid of who I was going to become when I was really me. I realized today, I'm not afraid anymore. I'm not afraid of me or who I am... I don't fully know who that will be yet, and I'm not afraid.

the end of a marriage or two

In June 2007, I was in pretty bad shape. Eating disorder, suicidal, self-harm, crazy, crazy, crazy... I kept trying to do the right things by going to church. I HATED it there. I'd been taught if I felt lonely at church to make friends, so I did. Every week, I talked to five new people plus made an effort to talk to the ones I wanted to get to know from the week before. DH and I had get-togethers at our home at least once a week and sometimes more often.

I'd also heard that if you're feeling depressed, you need to serve more. I did. I asked for another calling. I worked as a service missionary. I sent little notes to people. I went to the temple every week. (Plus working two jobs and trying to get my husband's business up and making money.) I was TRYING, and it wasn't working.

My husband was physically and emotionally abusive. Again, I thought it was a problem with me. I had talked to the bishop in our previous ward and told him about an incident where DH threw me into the wall. He gave me a book on communication in marriage. I felt like what he was saying was that if I just communicated better, then DH wouldn't have to hit me.

Bishop J seemed to take notice of me. He was very kind. He often asked me how I was doing. One night, after a violent fight with DH, I ran out of the house. I sat in the church parking lot, and called Bishop J's home. I think I hung up right after he answered... I SHOULDN'T talk about these things. But that phone call made him take more notice.

In August, we went to a ward campout. I, being obsessed with food and exercise, decided to walk up the mountain. Bishop J (BJ, cause I'm tired of writing it out) repeatedly asked DH why I would do that. It just didn't sit right with him, but he couldn't explain it.

He called me in to his office. I was afraid of him, so I brought DH with me. Every question BJ asked me, DH answered. I (apparently) sat there with my head down, pinching my own arms until I left marks, and he was VERY concerned. He finally got me to trust him enough to sit with him alone.

He asked a lot of questions that I didn't answer. I was TERRIFIED. He gave me his cell phone number and told me to call him anytime. One day, I took him up on the offer. I picked up the phone and asked him what he knew about eating disorders. Nothing. I told him that I had HAD an eating disorder when I was younger, thought I was recovered, but over the past few months have been really struggling. I told him that starving myself was an addiction, even if it didn't make sense.

He helped me find a therapist and a dietitian. Eventually, I told him about the physical abuse. I told him that my ex-husband had forced me to have sex. (BJ's the first one that ever used the word rape.) I told him about the EQ President that had assaulted me, but I couldn't remember what happened. I told him about the way my dad had treated his kids, and how I always believed I was worth less just because I was a girl. He is the first person I EVER opened up to...

BJ helped me get into treatment for the eating disorder. He helped arrange for the church to pay for my entire 90 day stay at one of the top places in the country. He came to visit me every week while I was there.

He also talked to me. He shared that he had been abused as a boy. I was the first person he ever shared the details of his molestation. I watched and wondered about why his wife NEVER came to church with him. (It was a student ward.) When she came to activities, I didn't like the way she treated people. It wasn't BAD, but I was very uncomfortable. (At the time, I interpreted that to mean there was something wrong with me. Bishop's wife = good. Jen = bad. Uncomfortable with bishop's wife = Jen's bad.) I asked him questions.He shared his frustration and loneliness. I listened.

After I got out of CFC, he started taking me horseback riding. He knew it went against what the Brethren said to do, and he both wanted to help me and wanted to spend time with me. (His words, not mine.) I LOVED riding. I LOVE horses. They brought healing in amazing ways. I enjoyed spending time with him. I felt loved in a way I had never known before.

DH was jealous, but also grateful. He didn't know how to deal with me. After I came back from CFC, panic attacks, nightmares, night terrors, flashbacks were WORSE. My eating was better, which made all of the pain I was trying to avoid very STRONG. DH would get really angry with me, yell and scream and say horrible things. (He stopped the physical violence when I went in to CFC in Feb 2008.) After he would yell, and I would leave, DH would call BJ and tell him what he'd done.

BJ would call me, and we'd talk. A few times, he would come and pick me up and we'd go to his house. He would repeatedly tell me that what DH was saying was abuse, and I didn't have to take that. In BJ's home, I heard his wife talk to him and say almost word for word the same bullshit DH had said to me just hours earlier. I was confused and angry.

The feeling that kept ruling me was, "Stop loving me! I can't keep going back and forth between the two worlds! Its making me crazy!!!" When I shared that feeling with him, he started to cry, and said, "I understand that feeling." I thought if I just got rid of HIM and that feeling of love, I could LIKE my marriage. But at the same time, once I knew that love, I couldn't go back... I couldn't pretend like I enjoyed the relationships I had known before.

In January 2009, he was released as bishop. I figured that would mean I wouldn't see him so much any more. My new bishop actually counseled me against that. He told me to keep in contact, because I still needed that friendship. BJ asked me to come work for him. I was unaware that the student stake Stake President told him not to have any contact with anyone from the ward.

BJ opened up to me more about the problems in his marriage. He shared with me that he planned on leaving her as soon as his kids were grown, which was very soon. I suggested therapy and marriage counseling. He went, and she refused.

My therapy was growing more intense, I was writing letters to former abusers. I was still dealing with nightmares and night terrors EVERY night. I was diagnosed with Dissociative Identity Disorder (think Multiple Personalities, but its not really like what you see on TV. Its more like a broken mirror. The fragments are all still basically the same, but they're not connected. Different emotions and memories took over as personalities. Jenni, the seven-year-old girl, talked about what it was like to go to her baptism interview. I couldn't remember those things, but she did.) My therapist decided I was not safe in the home with DH. He talked to my new bishop and BJ. I went and stayed in the BJ's home.

I thought it would be for a few nights. A week tops. While I pulled myself together. I got crazier. BJ was scared for my life. I believe I would have found some way to work it out, but BJ wasn't willing to let me. He became very unhealthy in his quest to keep me alive and to prove to me (and apparently to his wife) that I COULD and WOULD get better.

I continued to watch the way she treated him. And the way he treated himself. I BEGGED him to take care of himself, love himself, stop being a slave to what everyone else wanted. I thought she would love him enough to change. I thought if he stood up for himself, she would apologize and be different. She got more angry and more controlling (in my opinion). I thought maybe it was my fault...

I learned how to face my flashbacks. I learned how to make myself feel safe. I learned how to confront old memories and old beliefs and change them in my own mind. I made amazing progress. I am REALLY grateful I had someone who cared about me as much as he did. He sat with me at nights. He held my hand while my body went through being raped over and over and over again. I knew I was a great burden on him, and I often thought about taking my own life just so he wouldn't be burdened.

In April, I started looking for apartments. I couldn't go back to DH's home, because being around him made me worse. I also felt like I was safe enough that I would be okay in an apartment of my own. Bishop C (my new bishop) said he'd help pay the second rent for a few months.

Bishop C's attitude was that he was going to find a real slummer, so that I would have a reason to go back to DH. He didn't want to break up my marriage. I was very picky about where I was going to go. I HAD to feel safe. It couldn't be in a place where the guy upstairs creeped me out. Our differing opinions made it harder to find a place, but he found one at the end of May.

I "moved in" June 1st. (By moving in, I mean I slept there, but I refused to take anything but a change of clothes with me. I didn't want to get too comfortable, because I needed to go back to my husband.)

BJ told me he needed space from me. At first, I was confused. And angry. I didn't understand why he would tell me he couldn't talk to me NOW. I was getting better. He explained that he felt personally responsible for whether I lived or died, and he didn't want that responsibility anymore. He needed time to figure himself out. I realized that I wanted him to stand up for himself, and if that meant standing up to me, I was happy! It actually felt good to me to SEE someone do what they needed even if they were scared, or thought it was wrong, or felt bad, or guilty, or... Over the next month, I didn't talk to him or see him... Although I continued running his business while he was at his daughter's wedding and Scout camp.

In July, he invited me to go horseback riding. We talked about healthy relationships. I told him that if I was going to live or die based on what HE did, do us both the favor and let me die. I didn't want to live like that, and I didn't want him to live like that.

He bought the books, Codependent No More, and Too Nice for Your Own Good, and No More Mister Nice Guy. He continued going to therapy. She hated the books he was reading. I think she felt threatened by them. The two of us spent a lot of time talking about and defining healthy relationships, discussing the things he was reading.

I kept going to therapy. Working my ass off. BJ was still a huge support, but our relationship changed. We became good, close friends. Intimate, but not physically. We could talk about anything and everything. We had AWESOME discussions about everything. The most valuable to me were about the church. All of the doubts and questions he had, he shared with me. All of my pain surrounding the church, I could talk about. We got really angry together! Sometimes we'd disagree, but I was never afraid of him. He loved that I was willing to talk about everything.

In November, he told his wife that he was going to leave if she didn't go to therapy with him. She didn't go. She used a lot of excuses, and he has said maybe he could have begged more, but for whatever reason, it never happened.

In January 2010, my therapist (He's LDS.) started wondering and worrying about if BJ and I were growing close enough that we might have an affair. His exact words were, "You know how these things can happen." I cried. I DIDN'T know how normal people have normal sex because they WANT it. I had NEVER known that.

I had been raped. I had laid there while my DH got the job done. I had dated DH for two years and we'd never "slipped up" once. I felt no attraction to BJ, and in fact the idea freaked me out. I had always felt safe with him, but... if THAT could happen. I lost my shit for a while.

And then my therapist, said, "I just don't think you could handle a church disciplinary council at this point in your life." I didn't want to have sex, but I realized, I wanted OUT of the church. At that point, I seriously considered having my name removed from the records. If I wanted OUT so bad, that was the way to be honest with myself.

Around this same time, his wife asked him if he was still worthy to have a temple recommend. He said, "Yes. But I wish I had had an affair, then you would let me go." At that point, she told him she could forgive him for having an affair, but NEVER for leaving the church.

Within a few weeks, he'd moved out. A month later, he quit going to church.

I came to a place where I realized that I didn't want to be married. I didn't want to be in the church. Maybe because he had been violent, and although he had changed that, I couldn't get past it. Maybe because I couldn't IMAGINE becoming comfortable with sex. Maybe because I didn't want children, and he REALLY did. Maybe because I had never been single, and I wanted time to explore who I was. Maybe because of lots of things... I decided to get divorced.

By finally making that decision, DH and I actually became friends. We like each other now. We talk more openly than we ever have, and... we just can't be married.

After BJ moved out, THEN his wife decided she'd go to counseling. By that time, he was done. He had no interest in ever going back. However, he saw the power in trying to heal. He tried to talk to her about her emotional abuse. He tried to talk to her about how he felt like he had to do everything for everyone. He tried to talk to her about how he felt like a slave. He tried to talk to her about his doubts and questions concerning the church.

She went to the bishop. They actually went and met with him together. The bishop listened to BJ talk about emotional abuse, and the feelings he had about wanting to leave the marriage for twenty-something years. The bishop told BJ, he had sinned. He told him that if he just repented and returned to fully serving like he knew he should, then their marriage would be saved. And then the bishop turned to her, and told her that her marriage was in danger unless BJ stopped spending time with me.

BJ was both hurt and angry. What he heard was that it was fine that he was being abused, and he didn't want to give up our friendship. She had justification. She REALLY started blaming me. He was fine until he met me. He loved the church, until he met me. He's codependent and I'm controlling. He's abusive (by not doing EVERYTHING she asks... the word No is abusive to her. But its okay for her to say...) Sorry... I don't like the way she treats him.

He's continued to read about abusive relationships. She's followed the book very nicely. It's almost like she read how to be a really good abuser.

In November, he decided to move himself and his business to Nephi. To get away from her. (She was driving by his house several times a day. She would drop by unannounced. He felt like he HAD to get away from her, and the environment.) He also felt very sad at all that he was giving up to be true to himself... His therapist told him people would respect him if he was honest about his beliefs about the church. His kids and his other friends have not shown much respect. He wanted to get away from the constant reminder of what he could have if he just went back to lying about his feelings about the church, and could just "take" all of the abuse.

I work for him. We are close friends. I live in his basement. I pay rent out of the paycheck he writes me.

She's recently decided that I am faking my divorce, faking everything, so that I can get to him... I'm not sure what the benefit to me is to do that, but she believes it. She talked to her Stake President, and he discovered how much money the church has given me. He says he didn't do it as a Stake President, so it would be okay to share, and I am SO in the wrong, and she has a right to know...

I don't think he has a right to tell her anything... And I also think there are things she needs to know. BJ has tried to talk to her. I have offered to talk to her... back when I believed that she could and would change, I wanted to help. I have no desire to talk to her now, except sometimes I want to say, "Please. Stop being so abusive and manipulative. You keep emailing, texting, and opening your mouth to others, and you keep PROVING to me that you are a bitch. So, just shut the fuck up." I don't think that would be very helpful OR very effective, so... I probably won't try to talk to her any time soon.

My marriage is over. His marriage is over. And I have no regrets...
If I had done things differently, or made different choices, would he still be there? Maybe. Are there two sides to every story? Yes. And I only know what I know. I didn't want to hurt anyone. I still don't. I might regret the consequences, but I don't regret my motivation.

If that makes me evil, I guess I've decided I'd rather be evil.
(And I don't really believe that I am evil...)

I didn't deserve it

Johnny's been on my mind a lot this past week.
I was eighteen. Just out of eating disorder treatment (the first time), trying to figure out who I was. And hurting, but I didn't understand that back then.

He was the Elder's Quorum President and my home teacher. He was the kind of guy I thought my parents would like me to date. Although I knew I was in no place to get married, I also knew that was the next step. The only way for a girl to progress...

I wasn't really interested in him, but I wanted to progress. He was nice. He brought scriptures over all the time. He was desperately trying to reactivate me. Teaching me lessons. Discussing the gospel. We also went on several dates.

That night, I was wearing a t-shirt and overalls. We were sitting in the car. He reached his arm around my lower back and put his hand under the overalls and touched my stomach. I was gone.

If you've never dissociated, this will sound so strange. I have no memory of what happened next, but still... I have nightmares of what happened. I CAN'T tell you for sure. Which makes me feel crazy. I could talk about it back then.

I told the bishop. I felt horribly guilty for him touching me and for all that happened. He listened enough to tell me that I had done nothing wrong. There was no sin on my part. I remember him also talking about forgiveness and love.

I told my friend Shawn some things. He told me to love him and forgive him. He told me about all of the nice things that Johnny did for their Elder's Quorum.

My roommates were frustrated with me that I wouldn't listen to the home teacher anymore.

My (non-member) friend, Matt, asked where Johnny lived, so he could kill him.

Matt's response scared me, but as I think back on it, it felt REALLY good to have someone validate my hurt and my anger. If the bishop knew enough to know I did nothing wrong, why didn't he suggest I call the police?? Why didn't he suggest counseling? Why didn't he DO anything with Johnny?? He was also Johnny's bishop... Why didn't he at least release him??

I have often talked about Johnny as the catalyst to get me back to church. I directly blamed MYSELF for what happened. If I had been a "good" girl, that never would have happened. I became BEYOND obsessed with being good. Church. Service. Callings. Read the scriptures. Do what everyone told me to do, so I wouldn't deserve to be hurt.

I don't know how to say this strongly enough... I BELIEVED I DESERVED WHAT HE DID, BECAUSE I WASN'T GOING TO CHURCH. I deserved what he did, because I wasn't good. I had an eating disorder. I was bad (although I haven't really come up with WHY I was bad, I just knew I was bad).

That belief has motivated me for a long time.
It motivated me after Larry left too.

Its different now. I don't believe that anymore.
I don't want anyone to believe anything like that.

It doesn't matter who you are, what you've done, what you haven't done, what you think, what you feel, what you want or don't want, you don't deserve to be hurt.
You are beautiful.