This post is kind of strange, it's right in the middle of something that wants to be let out of my heart and also something that wants to stay private. It's something that I strongly feel isn't really any of anyone's business but mine, but also a large part of me longs to write it down, to try to nail down exactly what I think and to try to find some catharsis. It isn't baby poop, it's the R-word and it's some really heavy stuff.
For all of my life I have loved and participated in the LDS religion. Service. Family. Charity. Forgiveness. Love. Morals. Humility. All wonderful things that I have found in the church. But since I was a teenager sitting in the chapel when they read the letter about Proposition 8, something started nagging me in the back of my mind. But there were still all those wonderful things that I loved, conference talks that brought me to tears, music that stirred my heart, beautiful words spoken by friends strengthening each other. So many beautiful attributes that some people had perfected so much it that made them into some of the best people I knew. Beautiful things I was trying to work into my own imperfect life. And I loved those things. So I pushed the uncomfortable things to the back of my mind, but still they would creep up sometimes. Lessons about the Proclamation to the Family that didn't quite sit right with me, going to tie quilts with the young women while the young men learned how to change a flat tire, hearing how you should never postpone starting a family, hearing how permanent birth control was wrong, being told that we loved our homosexual members but that they weren't allowed to marry or have families. These things swirled in my brain for years but still I heard so many positive, uplifting messages that it seemed to make up for them, until- I heard that children of same sex couples would not be allowed to be baptized. And the things that I had carried for so long in the back of my mind, fell crashing to the ground.
It was hard. I still loved the church and 99% of its teachings. But could I be an advocate for an organization that had a policy I could not, no matter how many ways I tried, agree with? I thought and prayed and pondered and cried and a funny thing happened.
I let go of the idea that there is one right way for everyone. I let go of the idea that I had to go to church to be a good person. I let go of the idea that spirituality could only be found in a chapel. I let go of the idea that everyone around me had to be the same as I was. I let go of the thought that people who didn't go to church weren't working hard on their character. I let go of the feeling that I had to be told what was right by someone else and couldn't try to figure it out for myself. And my world got so. much. bigger.
I think once we get to a certain age in our lives we settle into our ideals and values and hold tightly on with both hands until the day we die. Change is a scary thing. Changing your mind about something you believed in is like confessing to the world that you're vulnerable, that you don't have all the answers, that you might be weak. And no one likes to do that. And I think it scares people when other adults do that. But here I am, I'm going to be that weird, scary person that admits I changed my mind. I am still the exact same Paige I was before. Anxious, awkward, hot tempered, stubborn, impatient, dramatic, mistake-making Paige. But now, my world is opening a bit more and I'm on a journey to become the best version of myself I can be. I'm realizing that I find happiness and fulfillment and spirituality and breath-taking love in my children's sweet faces, the incredible beauty of the earth, a kiss from my husband, the way my body feels when I run, the heart-stopping way someone can shape words into something that transforms you, amazing people who inspire me with their pure, absolute goodness, and soul-cleansing laughter.
I believe that where we are trying to go is more important then how we are trying to get there. I'm trying to be like my grandpa, like Jesus, like Atticus Finch, like the Dalai Llama, like Cheryl Strayed, like Gordon B. Hinckley, like Oprah, like Mother Theresa. I want to be the best mother, wife, friend, neighbor, daughter, sister, complete stranger that I can possibly be. I want to feel less stress of checking off all the boxes of being the perfect church member, and more passion to become a better person. I want to feel like I can become a better person while holding my own opinions of gay marriage and being a feminist and reproductive issues. And holding those opinions tightly, loudly, strongly, and without shame or embarrassment. The joy that brings me is so great. I feel like I am so much closer to my truest self.
I admire, respect, and look up to so many people in the LDS church. And I admire, respect, and look up to so many people not in the LDS church too. Aren't we all just trying to be the best we can? For some, the LDS church helps them do that and I love that, I champion and support that! And I champion and support those that meditate and those that study the words of others and those that spend time in nature and those that serve others and whatever ways we are all trying to live our truth.
I don't know what the future holds for me in regards to the LDS church. That's the beauty of being on your own journey. You get to decide for yourself and take your time doing so. But I do hope that my friends and family still see me for me (is that good or bad? I don't know.) But we are so much more than the sum of our parts.
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