Friendship after Divorce

I started this entry a long time ago, but never finished it. I've written and rewritten it and added things and taken away things... just trying to say what I really want to say, but I'm not even sure what I want to say... so... how do I say what I want to if I don't know what it is...

I don't know if it's complete or good.., but I've decided to share it today.

Once upon a time, I spent an awesome weekend camping, fishing, and riding in the mountains. BJ and I had this trip planned for a LONG time. We wanted to pack our gear, ride in to Kidney Lake, spend a few days fishing, and ride out.

(For those who don't know: Once upon a time, Dann and I were married. Now we're not. We are friends. Being friends was important to me, and it was important to him.)


I didn't want to tell Dann about the trip. I was afraid it would make him sad or jealous. I didn't want him to feel angry or freaked out. (I am very aware of ex-spouses that act crazy when they hear things they don't like.) We were all at my parents' house for dinner. I wanted to tell my dad all about the trip - especially since it was his idea. (He went to Kidney Lake and told BJ and I we needed to go.)

So, I talked about it. I ignored the voice in my head telling me that I wasn't allowed to talk about the things that make me happy... But the voice that said I was hurting Dann wouldn't shut up. So... I finally just said, "Does it bother you that I went on this trip? Or that I talk about it?"

"No! Why would it bother me? What kind of friend would I be if I didn't want to hear about the things that make you happy? What kind of a friend would I be if I got jealous when you were doing something you love? I want you to be happy. I want you to do things you love. And I want to hear about it all! Does it make you jealous when I talk about my dates and/or other girls?"

That was a good question. The answer is NO. I feel really happy for him when he's happy. I feel really happy for him when he's doing things he loves. What kind of a friend would tell him that he can't talk about his dates? That's a huge part of his life.

I want us to be friends. Real friends. So, I tell him about the stuff that I care about. I don't protect him from ME, and I don't hide me, and I don't expect him to pretend or hide either. We're FRIENDS.

All of this has gotten me thinking: We are definitely not common, so how are we doing it?
 
I had people tell me it wasn't possible.
"Once you break up with a person, it should just be over." And I agree, if that's what  any ONE of the people want, that is exactly how it should be... but what if both people want a friendship?
 

A relationship only works if both people have a desire to be in the relationship. It would have been completely acceptable if either one of us had said, "I don't want to continue a relationship with you." THAT is different from the way a lot of people think. For instance, Person A wants to be friends, so they try to force Person B to be their friend. That isn't a friendship. I don't know what that is... other than messed up.) If, in the future, one of us needed to change the relationship again, we would. A relationship only works when it works for both people.

I also think we had to let go of our past relationship. It would be impossible to be "present-friends", if either one of us was still stuck in " past-marriage". We have a history, but we let that be history. There is no talk of what might have been, or blame for the marriage ending, or even questions as to why it didn't work out. There is no trying to get back together - there is only our present friendship.


I had to make a lot of changes in myself. It was a big adjustment for people around me... including for Dann. He was used to me being different... more self-sacrificing... he was a huge support in my journey. Instead of trying to get me to go back to being self-sacrificing, he helped me grow the way I needed to grow...

While we were married, Dann did things that really hurt me. He apologized for those things, and he also understood that his apology didn't make everything all better. There was a lot of pain and anger that I had to go through, and he didn't expect me to rush it on his account. He didn't expect me to do anything for him... He didn't even expect me to be his friend unless I wanted to. Really... He had no expectations of me or of our relationship. By not trying to force anything, by letting go of what he thought it should be, it's unfolded naturally into the relationship we have now.


When I talk to him about anything, he doesn't use invalidating statements and comments. (And if he did, I could tell him. We could talk about it without him freaking out.)

He told me to trust myself.

"I trust you. Now, YOU trust you. If you don't want to talk to me, don't want to see me, or don't want anything to do with me: It doesn't matter. Trust yourself. If you fake it because you think that's what you're supposed to do, or because you think that is what I want, you will NEVER recover... But if you learn to trust you in EVERYTHING, healing will happen." (taken from an online chat)

He told me not to answer the phone when he (or anyone) called unless I WANTED to talk to him (or them).  For nine years, I thought it was my responsibility to take care of his needs: to put him ahead of myself. It was hard to change that belief. It has taken me a long time to get to a place where I am okay having needs, wants, and desires...  He understood that, and supported me. I'd like to say this isn't still hard for me. It is. It's been years, and I still have to fight against the feeling that I have to take care of him.

Knowing the way I work, how awful would our relationship be if he wanted me to fix things for him? How awful would it be for me, if he wanted me to continue taking care of him? If he thought that was what I was supposed to do? Or if he blamed me for not doing more to "save" our marriage? I'd have to fight against the false beliefs in my head AND in his head. I don't think I was (or am) strong enough that I could do that. That relationship would be deadly toxic for me.

He respects me when I tell him no.
I'm still working on telling people (and specifically him) "no". I have had to learn to stand up for myself. When I tell him "no" for any reason, he actually thanks me for taking care of myself, instead of pushing to get his way. That, more than anything, makes it possible for me to be around him. To talk to him. To count him as one of my friends. I have been way too much of a people-pleaser to have people in my life who expect me to please them... in any way...

He doesn't act like he knows what I should be doing, or what my path looks like.
Again, he trusts ME to find my own way, and he is a support as I walk my path. He doesn't give me advice or tell me how to live my life. 

He celebrates when I am happy. 
When I moved, and I was SO excited, he was excited for me. He helped me move - into the house I live in with BJ. Dann is grateful that I found BJ, because I am grateful. He wants to hear about our camping trips, our horseback rides, our fishing trips. He also gets angry when he feels BJ or I aren't being treated right.

"When you love someone, you are happy when they are happy. If you feel sad or hurt when another person is happy, that isn't love, that's selfishness." (taken from a text.)

Can you imagine how healing it is to have him say that to me? Can you imagine how wonderful it is to have a friend that really does care about MY happiness?


I feel lucky. I know how beautifully odd it is. It is rather perfect that we've both come to this place. It's rather perfect that we both wanted a friendship, and we defined friendship in the same way. Our separation and our journey was not short and was not easy, but considering what so many people go through, we're very lucky.

Liebster

Hey look: JeannieLeigh nominated me for a blog award. Shocked me a little.

I get really nervous when people like Jeannie read my blog. I figure they'll hate it... it will make them angry at me... Probably because of how open I am here, and I am still very afraid that if people know ME, they'll hate me. Which is somewhat amusing considering how Jeannie and I found each others' blogs.

She is one of my brother's friends.
Justin was (is?) going through a lot. Over the past year, I have pushed him to love and accept himself. He kept telling me he was too horrible, and if I really knew him, I would hate him as much as he hated himself...

A month (or so) ago Justin and I (and my parents) had an intense conversation. (More intense for him than for anyone else.) He shared some of his "secrets". He didn't tell me anything that changed the way I felt about him... I still love him. I still think he is a kind and wonderful man. I still believe I was right in pushing him to love and accept himself.

The day after our conversation, Jeannie sent him an email asking him to guest post on her blog. Guess what she asked him to write about?? How do you love and accept yourself?

I giggled when he called me and told me that.
It took him a few days to write the post... and then I read why she asked him to write it.
Awesomeness in action. That is all I can say.

I think sometimes we need other people to help us remember that we are okay. Jeannie was an angel for my brother, and I guess today she was an angel for me. It's nice to be reminded that people appreciate what I have to say.

So... here's the rules for this award.

• Each person must post 11 things about themselves. 
• Answer the questions the nominator asked, and create 11 questions for your nominees to answer.
• Choose 11 people and link them in your post.
• Go to their page and tell them.
• No tag-backs. 

Eleven things about me:

• I am the oldest of five kids (Jen (me), Jeff, Zack, Mellen (her real name is MariEllen, but I pretty much never call her that), and Justin) I really love being a big sister. Always have, always will.
• I play the violin, piano, and the organ. I am teaching myself to play the guitar... (I'd learn a lot faster if I ever took it out of the case.)
• I graduated from Southern Utah University with a degree in Sociology. I still like reading Sociology textbooks. (I'm kind of a geek like that.)
• I love horses. I love all animals. I just especially love horses.
• I love being outside. Trees, mountains, animals, bugs, sun, rain, snow (if I have the right gear), beach, sand, dirt, ALL OF IT. I feel at home when I am outside.
• I love to read. When I was a kid I'd stay up all night reading... I remember one summer my mom looked at me in exasperation because I had read everything in the house and said, "Why don't you just go watch some TV?!"
• I think people are fascinating. All people. There's just so many stories out there, and I love them all.
• I love salmon tacos from Rubio's. I live about a half-hour away from the nearest one, and there are days I drive down the canyon just to eat them. 

(This is harder than I thought... what the hell do I tell all ya'll?)

•  I just got a new iPhone. It took me a long time, because I didn't want to spend money on the phone and I hated the idea of renewing my contract and signing up for a data plan. Now I can't live without the silly thing.
• One of the things I do for work is design ties (neckties). I get really REALLY excited whenever anyone buys one of my designs. I wonder if I'll ever get used to that feeling.
• I once planned on starting a group home for troubled youth. Some days I still think about doing that again, but then I remember my pager going off at 2 AM, and I don't want to do that anymore.

(Done!)

 

Now for Jeannie's questions:

1. If you could be an animal you would be? 
Probably a bird... maybe a horse... I don't know. I think it would be fascinating to be anything (or anyone) other than me... How would the world look? Do birds know they are birds? Why don't birds ever land on my shoulder, but they will sit on the horse's back? How does it all work?
2. Why do you blog?
Two reasons. It gives me a place to sort out my thoughts and my feelings. I get to know myself better by writing. I remember what it was like to feel SO alone... like no one else had ever been through and survived what I was going through. I hope maybe someone will find my words and know they aren't alone.
3. Favorite piece of furniture (and it can't be your bed!)?
Piano. If that doesn't count as furniture, then my bookshelf.
4. What is your signature dance move?
I like how it feels to just move with the music... so my signature move is whatever I am feeling in that moment.
5. Character in a movie/book you related to most?
I can't think of anyone right now... Books, I mostly read memoirs. Emily Pearson's memoir (Dancing with Crazy) was really good. There were parts where I felt like she could have been writing my story...
6. Number one place you never want to go?
There isn't anywhere I never want to go... I want to explore everything and everywhere. I know that won't happen, but I would love it if it would.
7. Worst fashion mistake of all time?
eighties hair.
8. Favorite word?
Fuck.
9. Guilty pleasure?
I don't believe in guilty pleasures. Life is here to be enjoyed... and I have felt way too guilty about way too many things...
10. Thoughts on breakfast?
eat it!
11. If you were a tree, what tree would you be?
something big and old and knotted. 

So... Justin cheated and ALSO put me on his list, so here are Justin's questions:

1. Favorite mystical/mythical animal?
   Unicorn... I guess. Never really thought about it.
2. Favorite place?
   The mountains. Or my house. I like being home.
3. Most random childhood memory
   Playing in the bushes and pretending they were houses.
4. What is something about yourself that you're proud of?
   I work HARD. I have had to completely reconstruct myself and my life, and I did it. (Am still doing it.)
5. What is something awesome about yourself that I may not know?
   I can't think of anything... between reading the blog and being my brother, there isn't much you don't know.
6. Favorite number.
   I don't have one. I just adopt whoever I'm with - their favorite number.
7. What are your feelings on the matter of cheese?
   Generally, I don't like it... but I love nachos... and pepperjack cheese has almost changed my opinion on cheese
8. Favorite book or series, if not possible favorite genre.
   Genre - Memoirs... I will read almost anyone's memoir, because I love to hear people's stories.
9. A quote you love?
   
   “Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”
10. Someone you look up to in history
    Martin Luther King Jr. 
11. Someone you admire in present day?
    There are a lot of people. I am surrounded by amazing people. 

And now my list of blogs.


Poetry sans onions (Julia)
The Rains Came Down
I am serious... and don't call me Shirley
the peacewriter
Beyond the Closet Door
Breaking the Silence
We were going to be Queens (Kiley)
Life As a Reader (Morrigan)
The things I have discovered
Within Four Walls (Wendy)

Phew!! I'm done!

I'm prejudiced against Mormons.

JeannieLeigh nominated me for a blog award. 
I promise I'll do all that I am supposed to do because she nominated me. (Answer the questions about me, nominate others, etc.)

But first, there's other stuff that I want to write about:



It surprises me when active members of the church get to know me, and they are okay with me. It surprises me when they tell me they appreciate what I write. It surprises me that people have been so kind and respectful to me.

I have written a ton about how awesome my family has been... because they respect me and love me.

It really IS awesome that my family loves ME... and at the same time... when did it become awesome to have a family that was loving and respectful and nonjudgmental?

The thing I recently realized about myself?
I'm prejudiced against Mormons. You know how I know that?
I say things like, "They are still members, but they are really good to me."
"They love the church, and yet somehow they still love me."

How could I have not seen the way I think before?
I get REALLY cranky when people say racist statements, like:
"He's black, but he's a really good man."
(As if to say a good man and a black man aren't usually the same man. BULLSHIT!)




So, when did it become okay to hold members of the LDS church to a lower standard than I would hold the rest of the world?

Maybe my prejudice comes from the way I was as a member...
I cut off friends who went inactive or who left the church. I never told them why - I just stopped talking to them.
I was self-righteous...
I was self-sacrificing AND I had an expectation that good people women would be too. (Men didn't have to be.)

I pushed people to be obedient.
I told them what to do, how to think, what to feel.
If they got any answer that was different from the church, I dismissed them and their answer.


Just four years ago, I sat with my sister and told her she was taking the wrong path. I am SO GLAD she didn't take that shit from me. She told me I was caught up in my life and my problems, and I wasn't seeing HER. She was right. I apologized to her immediately, and have made every effort to see HER. I hope I am a better sister now.

I wanted to be GOOD. I wanted to be a good, righteous, person who was worthy of being loved... and that desire drove me to be a bitch. (Other days it drove me to be a doormat. I was a very confused soul.) Leaving the church helped me to let go of all of that.

I feel amazed, because I don't know if I could have done what my family or people like Jeannie have done.

My prejudice also comes from observing others:
It is amazing to me that my family isn't judgmental, because I see how other families are.
It is amazing to me that my family doesn't try to get me to go back to church, because so few families are respectful enough to do that.
It is amazing to me that my family comes to visit me when I have heard of others that won't visit family as long as they are"living in sin". (i.e. I live in the house with a man I am not married to.)
I think it's awesome that my parents, siblings, aunts, grandparents, and a cousin all SAY and MEAN, "I love you and I want you to be happy," and they trust ME to find my own happiness. They have no prescribed "plan of happiness" that I have to do, or they won't believe I am happy. They listen to ME.
They don't tell me I am following Satan, I need to repent, or any other of the crazy things I have heard people tell their "apostate" loved ones.

I am SO grateful. My family treats me the way I wish ALL families would treat each other.
I also wish I didn't think it was so amazing and awesome that they are the way they are.

It's just... I'm not sure how to change my fear of Mormons.
That's what my prejudice is:
Fear that people will first: judge me, and then: use their judgment to hurt me.

My prejudice keeps me alert and wary, and it's easier to not take it personally if they do something that hurts. As much as I hate to say this, maybe I'm not ready to let go of that.

Right now, I feel amazed by very simple acts of kindness, and can shrug off huge acts of abuse. Maybe that's not a bad place to be in... at least for a little while...

Why was I sobbing? (A reaction to the missionary age change.)

Saturday's announcement that girls can now go on missions at age 19 shouldn't have affected me. I'm WAY older than 19. I've left the church. There really isn't anyone in my life that that announcement really effects. (A few cousins... but that's it...)

So, why did I find myself sobbing uncontrollably when I went to bed Saturday night?
I couldn't figure it out until I read Joanna Brooks's blog.

"How do you let go of anger and hurt from growing up in a culture and institution that taught things about the role of women and about the timing and urgency of marriage that shaped pivotal decisions in your life? I’m grateful things will be better (at least in this respect) from now on, but I can’t help but grieve for what might have been."

That's it. I got married at 19 years old. I didn't get married because I had dreamed of being a wife and a mom my whole life... I hadn't. (At 14, I decided I didn't want to get married and I had no desire to have children.) I didn't get married because I couldn't picture my life without Larry. I didn't get married because I was madly in love...

I got married because I wanted to be "good". I got married because I wanted to move forward and progress in my life, and marriage was how a woman did that. I got married because I wanted to show my family that all of their prayers and efforts to keep me alive were worth it. I got married because I wanted to be an adult, and that is how a woman becomes an adult... She turns her life over to a man.

Larry liked me. Larry wanted me. I didn't think many men would... so I counted my blessings that someone DID want me, and I put the ring on my finger. (A ring I didn't want, by the way. I didn't like big stones, and I wanted a simple band... but HIS wife had to have a big diamond.)

He treated me like shit. He was abusive and controlling and my life with him was hell. It took me ten years to even BEGIN dealing with all of the things he did. I feel very lucky to have survived that marriage... and it's only been fairly recently that I have stopped having nightmares and flashbacks and... that all could have been avoided if I had had some other option.

I have already said that I wasn't real comfortable with trying to convert other people... but if a mission would have been an option, I am pretty sure I would have taken it. I could have avoided two years of being raped and ridiculed. I could have avoided the years and years of therapy. I could have avoided all of the beliefs I formed about myself, my body, relationships... My life could have been so different.

If I had gone on a mission, and not gone through the hell I went through with Larry, maybe I'd still be in the church... And while I am very happy now that I have left... it would have been a lot of easier if I had just been happy where I was born.

(I remember talking to a "super-believing" Mormon woman. My question was, "If I could prove to you that the church isn't what it claimed to be, would you want to hear my proof?"

She said, "No. I'm happy with my life, and I don't want to know."

I felt jealous... I WISH I could have said that, but I didn't have the option... I had to search out and question and eventually leave in order to save my life. I wish I could have been happy..)

So... while the decision has no effect on me or my life... I feel abandoned once again...Or at least I felt abandoned when I heard about the change in policy. I cried, and I cussed a bit.

Today, I am back to feeling grateful for my life. I definitely wouldn't choose the hell I went through, but the chances are good I would not be who I am today without all of those experiences.. I would not have the life I have today, and I really like my life.

Or maybe... I don't feel as strongly (about missionary work) as I thought.

After I wrote the last post (I don't believe in missionary work), I went to my parents' house for dinner. I just got a new iPhone, and was browsing facebook while I was waiting for everyone to get there.

My friend, John, posed this question. I paid extra attention to it because of the post I had just written.

"Hypothetical: There's a 19 year-old LDS male who is super smart and sensitive, who does not believe that the LDS church is the one true church, but who loves the church, and would theoretically like to serve a mission -- but only if he could do it in a way where he didn't feel like he had to lie to people (testifying of things he didn't believe/know) -- perhaps inviting people to join the church if it worked for them? I don't know exactly.

My question to you all --
1) Have any of you been able to successfully serve a mission in this way?
2) If not, do you know anyone who has? Or do you have any advice on how to make this work? I'm looking for advice tips on if this is possible."

So, I asked my family. Justin told me about his friend. He (friend) is from a part-member family. His mother is Catholic, his father is Mormon. His goal for his mission (he's been out for six weeks) is to find the people that the church is right for. No one else.


In that way, I think we all are missionaries... I write a blog about the harm the church has done to me, about working to heal my life, and about abusive relationships, and part of my "mission" is to just be here in case someone else feels like I do/have felt. I'm not trying to "de-convert" anyone, but I want to be a help to someone if they are already on that road and need support.

There are people that need to hear what I have to say. (I needed to hear what I had to say.) 
There are people that need to hear what you have to say too... And now all I can think about is the plaque-thingy my mom gave me for Christmas last year.

Your story matters. (tell it)

It's a fine line... How do you say, "This is what I have found helpful," without saying, "You should do this too." MANY missionaries put HIGH pressure to get new converts. For them, it seems like they need to convert other people in order to validate themselves. That seems like it would be harmful for everyone. The missionary and everyone he talks to.... and that is what I find myself fighting against. 

So, it turns out I don't feel as strongly as I thought I did... 
And... my "mission" is still the same, LOVE YOURSELF. You are perfect and beautiful and wonderful just the way you are. You don't need to change a thing, and neither do I.

I don't believe in missionary work... of any kind

I didn't believe in trying to convert people TO the church when I was a member, and I don't believe in trying to de-convert people now that I've left.

A few years ago, I was working very closely with my bishop. In one of our meetings, Bishop C asked about my friends. One of my best friends is Jewish. At the time, we talked on the phone almost every day... And our conversations were not short, nor were they surface-y. We talked. We listened to each other cry. We shared our struggles and our victories. We REALLY talked. When I told him about her, his response was, "Wonderful! What a great missionary opportunity!!!"

I felt disgusted. Here was this amazing person who loved ME, and who was SO supportive of me and my journey. How could I possibly THINK about trying to convert (change) her? I love her for who she is, and I didn't (still don't) want her to change. I would never DREAM of taking away her family traditions, culture, and beliefs. Being Jewish is a big part of her, and I love HER. (Of course, if she decided she didn't want that to be a part of her life anymore, then I'd be there to support her. I love her, and I want her to be happy, and I trust her to know her way.)

When I started questioning, she was one of the only people I felt like I could talk to. Her perspective was SO refreshing. She helped me to see I wasn't bad for questioning. She helped me by just listening. There was never any judgment, or even really any advice. She was always supportive and safe to talk to. I am still so so so grateful I had her to turn to...

I know many missionaries love the product they sell... and I'm not against telling people about something you love. By ALL means. I love when Amanda tells me about her traditions and holidays. (I like it when she tells me about just about everything - the traditions and holidays are just things that she loves that are different from me.) Last week, my family listened to me talk about the Book of Mormon Musical for thirty minutes. Do you think they cared about it at all? No. They listened because they care about ME. And I hope they know I wasn't trying to sell them on anything. I was talking about it because I like it, but I don't expect everyone to like what I like. The trouble I see with missionary work is that people believe their way is the ONLY way. Missionaries believe that other people are incomplete/broken/need to be changed if they don't believe the same way that they do. (Atheists are just as guilty of this sometimes, and I don't like their missionary work either.)

To those of you who love the church, how would you feel if I told you that the Truth was outside of the church... You can never find happiness as long as you are a member... If you have prayed, and you still believe the church is true, it's because you are not praying right, or haven't studied enough, or you need to repent. It HURTS. It feels shitty and invalidating, and it's not okay. (Those of us who have left get this kind of stuff all the time... And I've heard missionaries telling potential converts things like this. I imagine it hurts less coming from a naive eighteen-nineteen year old stranger than it does coming from family and friends, but still...)

In the book The Good Heart, the Dalai Lama he tells Christians NOT to convert to Buddhism. The Dalai Lama said that... WHY? The only reason I can come up with is that it is more important to him that people make peace with themselves and their own roots. Conversion of any kind is painful. The religious stories we were told growing up are a BIG part of us. In my case, I had to leave because I couldn't make peace with the church and much of it's teachings. It hurt. It is hard. Even though it has been two years, and I am definitely MUCH happier than I was, I feel like I am still in the process of finding ME outside of the church. It seems like asking someone to convert TO the church would be just as difficult.

I HIGHLY value accepting others and loving them as they are. If I had a cause, that would be mine. If I wanted to convert anyone to anything, it would be, LOVE YOURSELF!

Book of Mormon Musical: Hasa Diga

Remember how I said I didn't feel like writing any more about Book of Mormon Musical. That was then... Today, I feel like it.

A warning: I'm about to write about a song that WILL offend.  I like this song, but I don't think you will. It's blasphemous, offensive, profane, vulgar, and the list goes on. Don't listen to it, and if you decide to listen to it, don't get mad at me, because I warned you. (There are phrases and a word that even I won't use... and fuck is one of my very favorite words. I feel guilty even writing what the song title means, so in the words of Elder Price, "They are saying F--- You to Heavenly Father.")


First, since I just told you all not to listen to it, here is what the song is about:
The people have a lot of bad things in their life. They then list the struggles in their life: No food. People dying in the street. Female circumcision. AIDS. Warlords. etc. Really awful and horrific things that most people could never imagine...REAL shit.

Then they turn to the missionaries and ask them to list off the bad things in their life:
Crowded plane. Late bus. Lost luggage.

Eventually the missionaries figure out what the people are saying (F you to Heavenly Father). Elder Price tells them they shouldn't be saying that.

The reply is, "If you don't like what we say, try living here a couple days."


I really like that line, because that is how I have felt before.
I'm not saying you have to listen to me and you definitely don't have to agree with me... but don't you dare tell me how I am supposed to get through hell while you're sitting on your nice, fluffy, heavenly clouds.



There's also something about making fun of something that has had so much power over me, that reduces it's power. If I can laugh at it, it doesn't hurt or control me nearly as much...

I can always tell when BJ has had a bad day, because this is the song blasting through out the house. He plays it once or twice... and then he seems more relaxed... So... because I feel like shit this morning, I decided to try it.

(Have I told you all how crazy General Conference weekend makes me. It makes me NUTS. I feel guilty and angry and twisted in knots... I want to scream and cry and throw things...)

It works. Relieves some of the tension. Gives me a place to put all of the anger I feel. Makes me laugh. Which reminds me of a story...

A few years ago, I was in a rough place. Flashbacks, seizures, and trying to make sense of a world that didn't make sense at all. One day, I was curled up in a ball on the floor, in too much pain to even cry, and I was apologizing for being such a pain (or something)... BJ held me and just said, "Stop apologizing... You haven' done ANYTHING to apologize for... and especially... with all the fucking shit you have been through..."

Back then, I didn't use the fuck word. I thought it was bad! BAD! BAD! But something clicked in my brain, and I interrupted him, "It's not 'fucking shit'. Let's be accurate, it's actually 'shitty fucking'."

I thought it was really funny. But more than funny, it was honest. I owned what happened to me. And I used words that were off limits, but said what I needed to say... and I laughed, which released some of the tension in my body And it really did make it "all seem better".

Some anger and pain is too intense to feel, and it's too intense to distract from, and there just aren't "nice" words that can accomplish what a well placed FUCKword can. I don't advocate using profanity all the time, but I do believe there are times and there are places where it is entirely appropriate.

Like in this song. It was very healing for me. It shocked me enough to let me laugh at the anger and the pain... I don't know if that's what the writers had in mind, but that is what it did for me.


(Warning repeat: I do NOT recommend this song to anyone else. It is blasphemous and offensive and uses language that might make your ears bleed. I'm just telling you that I loved it, but I don't think anyone else will.)

Since I'm writing about it, I might as well tell you about seeing it live. I enjoyed it. It wasn't helpful - it wasn't harmful. It was just fun for me.

The reprise, however, was a different story. The reprise wasn't on the CD, so I'd never heard it. The full song is shocking and exaggerated. The reprise was less shocking, and instead of exaggerating emotions, it captured exactly how I have felt... The  betrayal, the loneliness, the heartache, the dashed hopes and the pain of "now what?" all were captured in that thirty second song... And I couldn't laugh at the emotions I felt.

“I was such a fool to have followed this advice…
There is no trip to Paradise…
How could I let my hopes get so high…
Hasa Diga Eebowai…
HASA DIGA EEBOWAI!
You gave me a dream… but it was all a lie…
I think you like to see me cry…
Hasa diga…”

I sobbed. It wasn't like "tears running down my face, but I still look pretty" No. Ugly tears. Snot. Holding it in so no one else could hear, but it felt like my throat was being ripped out... I wasn't expecting that. AT ALL. I enjoyed talking to the other audience members around me before the show and during intermission... but after the show, I just wanted to get out of there. I sat in the van and cried. Once I finished crying, I felt better... And I'm back to loving the show.



Before I left the church, I went through a lot of intense emotions and a lot of confusion.
I felt betrayed; lied to; ANGRY at how hard I tried to believe and how hard I tried to make myself fit; angry that I had been taught if I didn't get the "right" answers to prayers, it is because there is something wrong with ME; angry at all of the teachings that really fucked me up; angry at all of the time I spent feeling anxious and depressed because I believed; angry at the false hopes (if I just did what I was supposed to do, I would be happy.); lonely - I was afraid I was going to love everyone I loved; FEAR and GUILT for not doing what everyone thought I should; afraid of what would happen to me; and on and on and on.

Since leaving, I have had to completely reconstruct my own stories and beliefs. That isn't easy to do, and it gets even more difficult two weekends a year. I can't get away from it... I guess I CAN. I have. I ran away and went camping every conference weekend for two years. I avoided my family and refused to talk to them. I didn't get on Facebook, or read any blogs... I thought I was doing better. I thought it wouldn't affect me anymore. Apparently, I was wrong...

Book of Mormon Musical: dinner conversations

After seeing Book of Mormon Musical, I had all these thoughts I was going to write about, but something strange happened:

I told my mom I was going to go see it. I didn't think she would think that was cool, but for my own sanity, I felt like I needed to tell her. (When I start keeping things secret because I'm afraid of what other people will think about me, I start to go crazy. It doesn't really matter what the secret is... just having a "secret" makes me lose my mind.)

I was at dinner with my parents and siblings, and my mom turned to me and said, "Are you going to tell everyone about your trip this week?"

I got all nervous, and asked her if it was really okay if I tell people.
She laughed at me, which was a totally appropriate response, and then I had a conversation about why I like the Book of Mormon Musical with my whole family. I talked about why I went, and why I loved it. I also talked about what I didn't like. And my dad and brothers talked about what they liked and didn't like (at least as much as they'd heard).

I never thought that conversation could happen, because... well... I thought they wouldn't want to hear about it. It's cool that we can all talk about the things we care about - even though the things we each care about seem to contradict each other.

It's like the things don't matter, but the people do.

So... now I don't really feel like trying to write any more blogs about the musical. Maybe later. (I really do want to write about what each of the songs meant to me, because the music was really healing for me...)

Book of Mormon Musical: Ads in the Play bill?

After seeing The Book of Mormon Musical, I have many thoughts... I'm probably going to have to break them down into a few different posts... So, let's start with this one:

I don't understand why the church chose to advertise in the playbill of this play.
Three full page ads. All saying things like, "The book is always better," or "I read the book."
They really needed one that said, "This book will change your life," .. oh wait, I just found the church's official statement on the musical, "The production may attempt to entertain audiences for an evening, but the Book of Mormon as a volume of scripture will change people's lives forever by bringing them closer to Christ."

I wonder if the guy that said that had heard this song yet. (I don't think this song has anything offensive in it... I think even my mom would think it's clever. But, I could be wrong.)


I am aware of the idea "All publicity is good publicity." and I guess it makes sense from a business point of view. Jump on the publicity bandwagon... But...

Does the church know what is in this play?

The play shows the missionaries as naive and arrogant at the same time. Does the church know how closely many of the missionaries resemble the stereotype?
The guy sitting behind me went to Mormon.org during the intermission. He was chatting with the missionaries online, but then he asked the wrong question, and they ended his session. He shrugged his shoulders and said, "That's kinda what I thought." I don't know what his question was. When I asked him about it he said, "The real missionaries are even more naive than the ones on the stage."
I hate stereotypes and generalizations, but how could I argue with him? He'd just had a session with the missionaries shut down, because they determined he wasn't asking the right questions. 


Why is the church giving money to a play that has more offensive, blasphemous, sacrilegious and vulgar language than any R rated movie? Why are they supporting that? Advertisers are often called sponsors... Why is the church sponsoring this play?


Do church leaders know what they are "endorsing"? Do the members?
Don't get me wrong - I love it (the play), but I sure wouldn't have liked it a few years ago.

I never saw Titanic (the movie), because I didn't want to support a movie that had such "bad" things in it. Even edited...My seminary teacher explained that we were still giving money to the movie-makers, which supports them, so if you don't want to support that kind of thing, don't see the movie. This play has a whole lot of stuff that my seminary teachers would hate. It's much MUCH worse than Titanic.

Do they know that the only song that references Mormon doctrine gets laughed at by the audience? Before I saw it, I loved the song 'I Believe' because it showed the naivety of the missionary... but other people didn't laugh for the reasons I laughed. (This was actually hard for me to listen to, but I think I'll write a whole post about that. later.)


Do they know there is a whole song about "raise your middle finger to the sky, and curse God's rotten name." (and that line is the most innocent of the song. That song uses language even I don't use, and fuck is one of my favorite words.)

Do they know the basic conclusion of the play? Even though religion is silly, it can still be helpful and uplifting. It doesn't matter if the stories are true if they are helpful. (And in the play, the LDS stories weren't helpful, so they made up their own stories and started their own church.)

Do they know that the play really isn't about the book of Mormon at all? The LDS church advertising in this play is like the Jewish religion advertising in the play Fiddler on the Roof. Except, it's not really like that, because there is very little in this play that the church would support... At least Fiddler on the Roof can be considered wholesome and family friendly.

I just find it... disturbing.

I'm not (quite) as cool as I thought I was

Yesterday, I posted about how I've learned to say NO. And how good it feels to do what I want, and to not be manipulated by others... I posted a conversation I had where I got to be the person who had learned stuff, and I talked about how it's okay to think about what you want... blah... blah... blah...

Last night, we'd planned to go fishing, but it was raining and cold.
This is how the conversation went:

BJ: Jen, do you want to go fishing?
Jen: Sure.
BJ: Do you WANT to?
Jen: I don't know... can't I just go and think about it later?
BJ: Think of this as payback. What do you WANT?
Jen: Well fuck. (pause, while I actually thought about what I wanted) No. I don't really want to go tonight, but I AM willing.
BJ: That wasn't my question. My question was "do you want to?" The truth is, I don't want to go right now either, but I was also willing. We could have both ended up doing something neither one of us wanted just because we thought the other one wanted to.

He has a very good point. I wonder how often THAT happens. Both people are unhappy because neither one says what they want.


Wait a second... now... as I'm writing this, I wonder: When was he going to tell me that he didn't want to? Calling me out on my inability to say what I want, but completely ignoring his own wants...

Just in case anyone is wondering... I have made a lot of progress... but I definitely wouldn't call this one of my strengths.

It doesn't make you kind - it just makes you feel like a slave.

The following conversation has actually happened. More than once. Most often, I have been the pink person. Once or twice I have been the green person.

A conversation between two people:
Do you WANT to do that?

Sure.

When some people say "sure" I don't feel concerned. When you say "sure", this is what I hear: "I can't even think about what I want. HE wants me to do that, so I will." Which means what you are really saying is, "I haven't thought about what I want yet, but I probably don't want to do it."

Of COURSE I don't want to, why would I want to do that?

I don't know. Why would you?

I DON'T.  But... I'm supposed to do what everyone else wants me to do, that makes me a kind person.

No. It just makes you a slave to other people. I can't imagine that he wants you to feel like his slave. I think he probably actually cares about YOU... If you cared about someone, would you want them doing things they didn't want to do JUST because they felt like they had to... or JUST to make you happy... Only a really selfish, abusive, jerk would want you to do something you hated, just to make them happy. How could knowing you were miserable make someone else happy? I don't believe he's that kind of person. Do you?

No. It's just easier to do what other people want than to deal with the anxiety of disappointing them.

Really? That's easier? You feel depressed and anxious most of the time. You feel guilty and afraid whenever anyone asks you to do anything (unless you also want to do it, then you feel happy. That's the way it is supposed to be. BOTH people are happy.). It might be easier, but I'd say it's killing you slowly. Besides, the fear of NOT pleasing them makes you avoid people. If you had the freedom to say NO, you'd also have the freedom to say YES. Being with other people would not freak you out as much as it does.

You have nothing to be afraid of. You are good and kind and wonderful. You will still be all of those things when you learn to let yourself do what you want. You will find that you want to do a lot of things for other people, and doing things for others won't wear you out like it does now. It will feel good. It will feel fun and loving and GOOD. 

Ok? I can't really think about all that you just said. So, what do I say right now? How do I answer his question today?

Say, "No". 
Say, "I appreciate you asking, but I am not interested right now. If anything changes I'll let you know". 
It doesn't really matter... You can even tell him how hard it is to say no, because you feel like you don't have a choice. You can tell him you feel like you have to do what he wants, but you don't want to... Just be honest with yourself, and understand you are worthy of having your own wants, needs, thoughts, and opinions. You get to decide what you do with your life. 



When I was afraid that I couldn't say NO, I had a lot of social anxieties. I was afraid of every man, woman and child. What if they wanted something? I HAD to give them what they wanted. If someone asked for something, I had no choice. If someone looked like they might sort of kind of want something, I had no choice. It was my job to take care of everyone else, and the way I did that was to always do what everyone else wanted. The world was a terribly frightening place.

It WAS really hard to face the anxiety of saying NO, and even more scary to think about what I wanted. It was SO hard. I wasn't sure it was worth it at the time, but it got better. I got used to acknowledging my wants and needs. I got used to doing what I wanted, and they were right! I actually WANT to do a lot of things for and with other people. I am much more kind and giving person now, because I do things from my own heart. I don't do things out of obligation, guilt or fear.

I feel very comfortable in social situations now. If someone wants a hug, I think about what I want and I do that. (I CHOOSE.) If someone asks me a question, I decide what and how much I will share. If someone needs money, I decide how much I can and want to give. The world isn't scary anymore, because I know I can take care of myself.

Other people didn't change. I did!
 I learned how to take care of myself. I learned how to respect me. I learned I had a choice. I had the right to say NO to any request, at any time, for any reason.

There are some people who don't care about my wants or needs... They care a lot about their own wants. Some people's needs include controlling others, controlling ME. When I encounter people like this, I find I have to be VERY strong. NO should be enough, but sometimes I have to get distance and space from them too.

There will always be people who don't understand or respect my boundaries. There will always be people who use manipulation, insults, and whatever else they have to do to get what they want. When I'm dealing with people like that, less is more.  NO is enough. If I give my reasons, or my thoughts, they tend to use that against me.


There are still people who don't know how to handle it if I don't say YES. They just aren't used to me saying no. At first, they might do some manipulative things, but they won't KEEP doing those things. (This usually happens with family. They've known me all my life, and they just don't know how to handle "the new me". Explaining to them where I have been and why the change makes a lot of sense to them. Their love for me motivates them to become a part of the next group.)

For the most part, all of my relationships are better. Closer. More open. Just more.

There are some people who were afraid to ask anything of me. They knew how hard I tried to please others, and they didn't want to make it harder for me. Now they know I will take care of myself, and that gives them more freedom to take care of themselves.

It turns out, mm  e becoming healthier and stronger made all of my relationships healthier and stronger. That was something I wasn't expecting.

I miss knowing that I could heal the world.

A friend of mine recently discovered a tumor. Cancer. Stage III. Very close to her heart and pressing on her lungs. She's scared. Her family is scared.

I'm scared... What if she isn't okay?
And a bit angry... It doesn't seem fair. This is supposed to be a very happy time for her. She's fought hard to be healthy in mind and body. She's worked on creating beautiful friendships and relationships. She is one of the nicest, sweetest, most giving people I know. She deserves to spend the next few years just laughing, and going on fun cruises, and LIVING.

Mostly, I feel sad. And helpless...
(A warning to those who find peace in fasting: If you don't want to hear my sad and cynical point of view, stop reading now.)

I grew up believing in fasting and prayer. Someone got sick, you could pray for them, and if that didn't make them better, you could just go without food, and THAT would make them better. I could do something. I could help. If I just didn't eat AND prayed hard enough, God wouldn't hurt the people I loved. If I could just go without food, everyone would be safe.

That kind of teaching... taken to an extreme... sounds like a perfect recipe for a pretty serious case of anorexia.

Five years ago, I was really struggling with an eating disorder. I met with my Stake President, because I believed he would know how to help me. He told me that I didn't need to go to therapy - I just needed to fast and pray. If I fasted enough, God would cure me. I am glad I hadn't starved ALL of my brain cells yet. I gave him a shocked look and said, "Do you know what an eating disorder IS? I have fasted a lot, and I'm still struggling. If all I had to do was fast, it wouldn't be a struggle.... because fasting is what I WANT to do. I could be wrong, but I don't think fasting is the answer."

He shrugged his shoulders and said, "Well... then I don't know what to tell you. I guess you can TRY therapy, but without the power of fasting... How can God cure you?"


His words played around in my head for a while. They really messed with my brain until I realized I just don't believe that God cares if I go without food or not. It doesn't make him do things for me that he wouldn't have done otherwise. (Like, ya know, God was totally going to let her die, but now, because you haven't eaten for the last twenty-four hours, He's changed His mind. WTF?)

I can go without food for a long time. I get headaches. I get dizzy. I feel sick, but I can ignore all that. I have the ability. It doesn't make me a stronger person. It doesn't make me a better person. It doesn't make me more spiritual.  It doesn't make God do what I want. It doesn't make the world a safer place or a better place. It does make me hungry (and dizzy and sick and eventually numb to the world).

Today... I want that belief back. I want to FEEL like I am doing something to help my friend. I want to believe that I can make a difference...

Reality is, all I can do is love her. Be there to support her in whatever ways SHE needs support. Listen if she wants to talk. Go away if she wants to be alone. Send money. Or food. Or even... if her knowing I was fasting for her made HER feel better, I'd do that too. I trust her, and I trust the doctors that she trusts.

I felt a lot of anxiety when I started writing this post. Somehow, writing the last paragraph, I feel peaceful. Accepting things as they are IS very peaceful.

Happy Fall!

There are some days that are just too beautiful for words. This was one of them. Have a beautiful day everyone!

My life wasn't his to give, but he gave it to me anyway

My last entry was about my own suicidal thoughts and feelings. BJ pointed out that I could have said so much more. He's right of course...

I tell the rest of this story VERY CAREFULLY.
Please stop reading if you are dealing with your own depression or suicidal thoughts. I don't mean to be triggering, but this could be.

I don't tell this story lightly. There was definitely a time that living for other people kept me alive, and I am grateful for that. I don't know what would have happened if the timing hadn't been perfect. I don't have to know, because the timing was perfect. I'm not giving advice - only telling you MY experience.

On with my story:

I had felt suicidal for as long as I can remember, but when I was 29, I became a different kind of suicidal. I don't know why it happened when it did. I know some of the things leading up to it, but for whatever reason, my brain broke. I can't think of a better way to put it. I felt shattered, broken into a million pieces. I was in so much pain: physical, emotional, mental... every single second felt eternally, despairingly, painfully long. Flashbacks. Weeks and with NO sleep. When I did sleep, nightmares. Pseudo-seizures. Crazy thoughts. Dissociation. Pain so intense - there really are no words to describe it. I wanted the pain to end, and I saw no end in sight.

It was kind of like I had to experience ALL of the pain of being abused. All of the pain that I hadn't been strong enough to feel when it happened, I felt in those few months. Years and years of being used, abused, raped, and beaten... experienced all at once. I eventually got through it all, but in the middle, I didn't know if it would ever end.

 I didn't want to stress anyone out or hurt anyone with my pain, so I hid it as much as I could. BJ convinced me to share with him and to talk to him. I'd try to smile, but he'd look deeper. He saw the pain even when I was trying to protect him from it. He created a safe space on the floor (at the time beds and homes weren't safe. Too triggering.) I'd curl up in a ball and he would sit with me for hours. In the worst of it, I'd hear myself crying, "I just want to go home. Please..." He understood that "home" meant heaven or God or someplace without suffering. Death felt like the only way out.

He'd tell me I needed to stay... How lonely he would be if I died. How sad. How much I meant to him. I kept on living, so he wouldn't be lonely. I kept on suffering, so he wouldn't feel sad. And then one day, he stopped saying that.



Instead of begging me to live, he said, "Jen, I love you. I want you to stay alive. SO MUCH. But I won't be selfish. I won't ask you to live for me anymore. This is your life, and your choice."

At first, this thought scared me. If I wasn't living for him, how could I stay alive? If I wasn't living for other people, what reason did I have to live?

I almost said, "Okay. I'm done," but I didn't, because I also felt excitement. Hope. No one had ever told me it was my life before. No one had ever given me permission to live or to die... My life wasn't his to give me... but he gave it to me anyway. MY life? MY choice? What did that even mean?

I had spent every second of everyday worrying about, thinking about, and considering what everyone else needed or wanted. I analyzed and tried to anticipate everyone's needs. I'm not saying I succeeded at my endeavors to take care of everyone, but I never stopped trying. Somehow, he was able to show me that I didn't have to live like that.



The pain didn't go away. Everything was still just as intense, but I felt a sense of peace. If it ever got to be "too much", I had permission to end it. It was MY life. MY choice. It seemed whenever I was faced with the choice after that, I WANTED to live. The freedom to choose death finally gave me the freedom to choose life.

It's my life, and DAMMIT, if I'm going to live, I'm going to LIVE!

It's suicide prevention week.
I spent most of my life (29 out of my 33 years) feeling suicidal. "Suicidal Ideation" is what the professionals called it. Suicide sounded like a good idea. I dreamed of my death every single day. I prayed for it every single night. I hoped it would come, and on many days I planned for it. I attempted it once. I lived through it - in part because I immediately started throwing up. Apparently, although I didn't want to live, and didn't believe I deserved to live, my body decided something else. I also tried starving myself, and an addiction to exercise... somehow I survived those too. I'm pretty darn lucky.

I've sat here trying to think of what I would want someone like me to know. The only thing I can think of to say is, "LIVE!"

I wanted to die, because mostly, I felt like I was already dead. I was still breathing, but I wasn't living. I was doing what I thought other people wanted me to do. I was being who I thought other people wanted me to be. Looking back, I can say I barely even existed. That is no way to live... and something deep down inside of me knew it. That is the part of me that kept telling me to either LIVE or DIE. (I'm not a black and white thinker... at all.)

A while ago, I was talking to a friend. He was suicidal. He thought his death would end the craziness he felt, and he figured if he died, he wouldn't have to live with disappointing others. Since I had felt that so strongly myself, I had words that were helpful.

"You go through life trying to make everyone else happy. And then one day, you say, 'I can't live like this anymore!' What do you do? Do you end your life? Or is there another option? For me, at one point I just decided, it's my life, and if I'm going to live, DAMMIT I'm going to LIVE! It's my life, and I can't live it for anyone else anymore."

It sounds strange now... I thought I was selfish. I thought I was SUPPOSED to live my life for everyone else... In fact, that is one of the things that kept me alive for so long. I wasn't willing to put my sister through the hell of my death. I'm glad I had that bond with her, because it kept me alive long enough to find myself.  There came a point where even living for her wasn't enough to keep me breathing. There came a moment when I had to love myself enough to live for me.

I understand feeling sad. I understand feeling overwhelmed. I understand wanting out and away from all the hell. I also know what it feels like to find ME. I know how good life can be.

So, my advice is simple. Find a way to survive today, because tomorrow (or sometime in the future) will be worth living for. My life is nothing like I thought it "should" be, and everything that I want it to be.

Angela's word revisited (A guest post for Julia)

Julia asked me to do a guest post for her blog. 
She gave this post the title, "A Mouse Tells How She Found Her Voice".

When I was in high school, I had a violin teacher that told me at least once a week that I played like a mouse. He'd push me to play stronger. I wanted to please him, and I wanted to play better, but I could NOT figure out how to be less of a mouse.

When I started playing again (two years ago), I had no problem playing out. It seems that I found my voice, and my mousiness went away.

Here is the blogpost I wrote. 
Thanks for the invite Julia! I really appreciated revisiting this poem. It meant a lot to me before, and it meant something more this time.


A Mouse Tells How She Found Her Voice
Sometimes, I come across the writings of others, and I wonder how they could have put my thoughts and feelings so perfectly into words. This poem described my journey perfectly:

When Angela was very young
Age two or three or so,
Her mother and her father
Taught her never to say NO.
They taught her that she must agree
With everything they said,
And if she didn’t, she was spanked
And sent upstairs to bed.

So Angela grew up to be
A most agreeable child;
She was never angry
And she was never wild;
She always shared, she always cared,
She never picked a fight,
And no matter what her parents said,
She thought that they were right.

Angela the Angel did very well in school
And, as you might imagine, she followed every rule;
Her teachers said she was so well-bred,
So quiet and so good,
But how Angela felt inside, they never understood.

Angela had lots of friends
Who liked her for her smile;
They knew she was the kind of gal
Who’d go the extra mile;
And even when she had a cold
And really needed rest,
When someone asked her if she’d help
She always answered Yes.
When Angela was thirty-three, she was a lawyer’s wife.
She had a home and family, and a nice suburban life.
She had a little girl of four,
And a little boy of nine,
And if someone asked her how she felt
She always answered, “Fine.”

But one cold night near Christmastime
When her family was in bed,
She lay awake as awful thoughts went spinning through
her head;
She didn’t know why, and she didn’t know how,
But she wanted her life to end;
So she begged Whoever put her here
To take her back again.

And then she heard, from deep inside,
A voice that was soft and low;
It only said a single word
And the word it said was … NO.

From that moment on, Angela knew
Exactly what she had to do.
Her life depended on that word,
So this is what her loved ones heard:

NO, I just don’t want to;
NO, I don’t agree;
NO, I don't believe that;
NO, that’s wrong for me;
NO, I wanted something else;
NO, that hurt a lot!
NO, I’m tired, and NO I’m busy,
And NO, I’d rather not!

Well, her family found it shocking,
Her friends reacted with surprise;
But Angela was different, you could see it in her eyes;
For they’ve held no meek submission
Since that night three years ago
When Angela the Angel
Got permission to say NO.

Today Angela’s a person first, then a mother and a wife.
She knows where she begins and ends,
She has a separate life.
She has talents and ambitions,
She has feelings, needs and goals.
She has money in the bank and
An opinion at the polls.

And to her boy and girl she says,
“It’s nice when we agree;
But if you can’t say NO, you’ll never grow
To all you’re meant to be.
Because I know I’m sometimes wrong
And because I love you so,
You’ll always be my angels
Even when you tell me NO.” 

Barbara K. Bassett

Julia asked for my thoughts on the poem - what it meant to me in my life.
I don't have a lot to add. The poem says so much, so perfectly... I was an agreeable little girl. I was quiet. I was giving. I was obedient. I was an agreeable adult. I did what I thought I was supposed to. I never said no. I tried not to have wants or desires. If I did have a want or a need, I tried to put other people's wants ahead of my own. I tried to be good and nice and GOOD, and I was miserable. I wanted to die.

Angels came along. They took many different forms. Friends. Books. Horses. Family. Bloggers. Acquaintances. Support groups. Songs. Church leaders. Each one of them gave me little glimpses into what life could be.

I was afraid. I didn't know who I'd be if I wasn't agreeable Jen. The many different angels in their many different forms supported me as I found ME. There was always an angel to show me my next step. They taught me how to live and how to be happy. They were there with me when I was afraid, and reassured me there was nothing to be afraid of. (It turns out I can still be a nice person AND have wants and desires and thoughts of my own.)

Re-reading the poem tonight, this paragraph stuck out to me:

She has talents and ambitions,
She has feelings, needs and goals.
She has money in the bank and
An opinion at the polls.

That's ME! I have talents and ambitions, feelings, needs, and goals. There's money in the bank, and I most definitely have an opinion at the polls!

 It wasn't that long ago that I felt guilt for having ambitions, feelings, needs or goals. I was not allowed to have money in the bank, so IF I had anything extra, I gave it away.

And an opinion? Especially at the polls? NOT ALLOWED. Mostly because my political opinions are very different than the majority where I live. But... then again... since I now know that my opinions are different, that means I have them. And that feels kind of amazing - especially thinking about where I once was.

Summer's almost over, and we haven't done anything yet!

School's started back up. (This doesn't affect me, except that more than half of my family works for school.) Leaves are changing. (Already?!?!) Nights are getting cold. Fall is here.

I pointed this out to BJ, and he looked sad and said, "I know, and we've hardly done anything!"

Really?

I bought myself new waders. I can't even call them new anymore - they've been all over the place.

A full solar eclipse. Complete with an eclipse party.

Riding. New trails. Old trails. All over.

Pride parade

Horse training workshops

Fixing the irrigation sprinklers.

Work. We added several new accounts this summer.

Wild Mustangs

POW WOW

Fishing from a float tube on Strawberry Reservoir

Fishing in Yellowstone National Park

Symphony Concert

Rodeos! (I am going to ride a saddle bronc like this someday!)

I shipped out thousands of pounds of ties...

Riding in the ferns.

Riding all over. This is one of my favorite pictures.

Riding. Camping. Fishing in Uinta Mountains.

Albino fish!

I wore a dress. All day long.

More fishing on Strawberry.

And these are just a few of the pictures of a few of the things...
To which BJ replied, "I guess what I'm saying is there's a whole lot more I want to do, and we're running out of time! But with fall comes a whole bunch of other things I love..."

The "R word" (rape) and stupid things people say

Warning: This post will probably be triggering. I haven't written it yet, but I am about to talk about rape, and I'm angry. I don't plan on censoring myself, so please take care of yourself. Only read this if you are in a good place, and stop (and seek help) if anything I say triggers you.


Rape. It's an incredibly ugly word. It's not a word I like to use. I struggle to use it to describe my own experiences, but I've found that I'm not alone. Many people who have been raped (legal definition of the word) try to use other words to describe their experiences. It has been so hard to allow myself to use that word to describe what happened to me.

Recently, in an effort to convince me to not go to a wedding (that the bride and groom invited me to), I was told that (this person) seeing me would be like me seeing one of the men that raped me. (She blames me for her divorce.) I was confused.

I spend time with my uncles. I would never dream of asking them to not go to an event just because their presence makes me uncomfortable. I have anxiety seeing them... and I have choices about what I do. I can choose not to go to functions where I know they will be. I can choose not to talk to them if I do go. I can choose to be friendly if I feel like it. Whatever I decide to do, I can only choose for me. It has never crossed my mind to ask them to stay home.

My confusion... I know I still have a desire to protect abusers... AND, I want to be healthy. What does that even look like? Is she more "normal"? I don't want to be like she is. Like I said. Confused.

I shared my confusion with BJ... as we talked, and he pointed out what a ridiculous and stupid and completely inaccurate comparison the two things are...  My confusion went away, and I got angry.

On most days, I understand that pain is pain... It doesn't matter if someone else's pain is worse than your own, when it hurts, it hurts. On this day, realizing how irrational that comparison is, made my head spin. How DARE she compare anything she has gone through to being raped?!?! (Even IF her accusations were accurate, and I was to blame for her divorce, there's just no comparison. In one analogy, an adult man decided to end his marriage. He left. He has a right to do that. Rape is a violent, violating, horrible thing done TO someone who cannot defend themselves.) She has no fucking clue what she is talking about.

"That's like scraping your knee, and thinking you must understand what it feels like to break every bone in your body." ~BJ

I don't like using the word "rape". I feel like I have no right to that word, but damn it if I am okay with those who have no clue what they are talking about, never experienced anything close to it, and ESPECIALLY trying to use that word to control and manipulate others... No patience, no tolerance, for that kind of bullshit.


That stupid comparison just reminded me of all the stupid people out there. 
They THINK they know what they are talking about, but they have no clue.

Todd Akin is currently being blasted for his stupid statement about "legitimate rape". It was a really stupid thing to say. My hope is that he was just incredibly ignorant.

"First of all, from what I understand from doctors [pregnancy from rape] is really rare. If it’s a legitimate rape, the female body has ways to try to shut that whole thing down.”

What does that mean when a woman DOES get pregnant from rape? It's not legitimate?? Who the hell is he to decide what is legitimate and what is not? To take something so traumatizing, invalidating, and awful already... there are no words to describe how much harm that man could do with just a few stupid words.

Last year, there was a bill proposed that used the phrase "forcible rape". Do they not understand what RAPE is??

Up until 1993, there was no such thing as marital rape. The traditional definition of rape was, 'sexual intercourse with a female not his wife without her consent'. Basically, a woman had no right to say no to sex with her husband... And he could take it by any force necessary. The law was changed, but not without a fight. People fought over whether a woman had a right to say no to sex with her husband... and that was only twenty years ago.

Did they think about what they were fighting for? Did they care that they were fighting for the rights of a man to rape his wife? Did they think about how it would effect women?

When I started talking about what Larry did, sometimes, I even got brave and used "the R word". Do you know what SEVERAL people said to me?

"How could it be rape? You were married." 

(And I wonder why I have a hard time using that word...)
Sometimes, I'd try to explain how he did it whether I cooperated or not. It WAS a lot easier if I could just force myself to lay there and take it... but sometimes, everything in me fought against it. I'd try to explain the pain, the violence, and some understood... A few never did. They held to the belief that a man could never rape his wife... After all, a woman is given to a man. She is nothing but his property.


Today, some states still have exemptions for married men. For example, in some states a man cannot be prosecuted for forcing sex on his wife if she is impaired and cannot consent. In other words, if she is asleep, and therefore cannot consent, he can force himself on her without fear of the law. Utah law states that if a person can't consent, then it is rape, with no exception for husbands. 

There are so many other instances of politicians saying things that are just WRONG. Joking about rape. Trying to minimize and sometimes defend it. Protecting everyone but the victims of rape. I don't feel like going into any more of it now... just know there are a whole lot of really stupid people out there.

As a teenager, I read the book Miracle of Forgiveness. I was full of guilt. I wanted to be happy. I wanted to feel good in my life. I believed my unhappiness was because of sin. (I heard it over and over and over in church.) I wanted to repent, so I could be happy... So I read the book.
There are a few passages in the book that STILL make me want to hurl.

"Your virtue is worth more than your life. Please, young folk, preserve your virtue even if you lose your lives.”

-    The Miracle of Forgiveness, p. 63

“Also far-reaching is the effect of loss of chastity. Once given or taken or stolen it can never be regained. Even in a forced contact such as rape or incest, the injured one is greatly outraged. If she has not cooperated and contributed to the foul deed, she is of course in a more favorable position. There is no condemnation when there is no voluntary participation. It is better to die in defending one’s virtue than to live having lost it without a struggle.”

-   The Miracle of Forgiveness, p. 196

Up until two years ago, I believed my family would prefer I was dead than to know the truth of what happened to me. I believed the fact that I was alive was proof that I was bad...

"It was better that I had died defending my virtue than to live having lost it without a struggle."

I could not tell anyone the truth. I was barely alive already, and I knew I couldn't handle it if they agreed with me, and said, "We wish you would have died."

I found a great therapist. I found BJ. I found many great people and resources that helped me to change the way I think. I learned the truth. (It was NOT my fault. It is much better to cooperate and LIVE than to die. And so on.) I talked to people that understood... I tried to shut out the people who were clueless.


Now what I want to know is, where are all the people who KNOW?
Why aren't there more talks in church about the effects of abuse? Why aren't there more talks about how it isn't the victim's fault AT ALL? Why hasn't the church apologized for publishing such AWFUL things? Why are they still handing out that awful book?

1 in 4 women nationally, 1 in 3 women in Utah. 1 in 6 men nationally, 1 in 5 men in Utah will experience sexual assault in their lifetimes. That means that 33% of the women in any ward in Utah will have been raped or assaulted. With statistics that high, isn't it about time to start talking about it, and I don't mean the people that have no clue... I mean the people that KNOW.

Why are the ignorant people talking about rape? What makes them even THINK they have a right to make a law that effects victims of rape? They don't. Every single one of them needs to stop it. NOW. I don't care that they think they are protecting life... until the conversation is more open and honest and they have a clue about what they're talking about. Shut up. And do some listening. Get educated. Do NOT talk about rape unless you know what you are talking about.

I'll finish with this:

A friend posted this on Facebook. THIS is how rape should be talked about. THIS is what happens when a woman is raped. (And I know it's not just women who are raped.) This is what happens when a PERSON is raped. It's time people understand what really happens and how truly awful, traumatic, life altering, and sometimes life ENDING it is.