Exponent II's Blog, page 269

Guest Post: An Open Letter to My Ward Members #MormonMeToo

[image error]By Carmen Cutler

To my fellow ward members,

Yesterday was Good Friday.

And in Mormonism this week, we need Good Friday, a day of fasting and penance. A day to bring my heart to Christ, to view the cross anew, to see His pain and His love. I need to see the face of Jesus clearly right now, in this moment when the clearest things in my mind are these:

An MTC president groomed and then sexually assaulted missionaries in a basement office.

His leaders knew about it. They did nothing. Worse than nothing, they promoted him.

The current response of this church that I have placed trust in is “There was nothing we could do.”

I have watched this week for some ripple, some indication that these reports were enough to trouble the still waters.

But, ward members, you aren’t talking about it. Not a sound. How do you not know? How can you not be aware? How can our chapels and meetings and quorums fill with words and songs that ignore this, that move easily forward as if nothing happened? My social media feeds are full of pre-General Conference chatter, quotes, requests to join us and listen to church leaders, to find peace with us, post after post of happy words. I am usually the one doing that too. But not this time.

Today I approach the foot of the Cross, with all these women:

The woman who was sexually assaulted as a missionary by the MTC president, and who watched him move through the ranks of priesthood leadership with no legal or ecclesiastical consequences.

The woman who reported intimate partner abuse to her bishop and was told to repent for causing it.

The woman who sat in a YSA Relief Society meeting as her bishop took the entire hour to give instructions on what she should do to not get raped and how to repent if she does allow it to happen.

To the woman who was sexually harassed by her mission president, repeatedly, relentlessly.

I cannot approach General Conference this time with any measure of joy. I am mourning, mourning with every person who has been sexually assaulted by an ecclesiastical leader, mourning that no one believed them, mourning that no meaningful changes have occurred in policy or structure, having little hope that things will change anytime soon.

So. If the conference talks Saturday and Sunday are about institutional accountability and transparency and actual healing from this specific wound in our faith community, then I am there.

If not, I have Easter things to do, and wounded sisters to attend to.

Guest Post: Response of a Home Teacher to my Coming Out as Transgender – A lesson on Charity

Today is International Transgender Day of Visibility and we are sharing a guest post from Linda Gifford which documents her home teacher’s (HT) response to her coming out, and her reply. She shares an article with him and a Facebook post, the latter of which is shared here in full, with permission. [image error]

by Linda Gifford

16 Sep 2017

HT: “I have prayed for many days, racked my soul, went to the Temple of my God to find these words to share: I love you as a brother. I have been your home teacher for 10 years. I have testified from the pulpit and testified at your kitchen table many times. That I know the family is ordained of God, how marriage is defined between one man and one woman and how gender is essential to our pre- mortal, mortal and eternal lives. I know these things are true independent of any other source other than the Holy Spirit of God that has etched those teaching within my heart and upon my soul! I love you as a brother, I love you as a friend, and I love you as a disciple of Christ; however, you are choosing at this time to live in direct opposition to God’ laws. I will not support you in an apostate state. I will not subject my family to those that live in an apostate state. I support that you have agency to make this decision, however you have turned that agency over to the dark one at this time. At this point in eternity you are not under the direction of the Holy Spirit because you are choosing to live in direct opposition to the covenants that you have made in holy temples and the laws of God that exist in this the Lord’s true church. They not only exist now but have and will for all eternity. I will support you fully in any repentant state, that is genuine once you enter it, in the future; however, at this time all I can say is we love you, we will pray for you, we have placed your name in the Holy Temple of my God and your God, and we will stand with God and these doctrines. I know these things to be true not only now, nut all the days of my life for the last 24 years, and will know for all eternity; they are woven within the very fiber of my being. I love you brother, come back, come back to the light, come back to the Lord Jesus Christ, come back to the truth, come back to your God who is your father and you are his son! In the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.”

Me: I understand this is hard for you to understand. It’s hard for me too. However, are you truly being Christlike in your attitude? Perhaps this article would be good for you to ponder: Deseret News Article: 13 Sep, 2017 – Gay Brother of Mormon Apostle (Tom Christopherson) shares his spiritual journey. 

HT: “What I’ve said is true; you know it, I know it and God knows it. Whether you choose to accept it or not it is still true. I love you as a brother. You need to wake up from the slumber the adversary has you under. I support your agency, but I do not support what you’re choosing to do with that agency. I pray that you will return to the light. I am done. I will not converse about this again.”

Me: May the Lord bless you and your family. I have admired you for years and loved having you as my home teacher, but I won’t accept you being judgmental. You don’t know what I’m going through. I don’t want to discuss it more with you either, but I do hope this will make you really search your soul and see if you have charity as God says we should have.

2 Feb 2018

Me: HT, you are someone I have always loved and admired. That hasn’t changed. However, your text messages to me after I came out (as a transgender woman) after so many years of struggle really, really hurt. I forgive you. I want to share a wonderful story with you. I hope you will read and consider where you stand in God’s eyes when it comes to charity. Are you willing to help the down-trodden and bear others burdens or would you be the one who walked by on the other side in the story of the Good Samaritan? The teen suicide rate in Utah has tripled since 2007. I’m convinced a big part of the reason is people like you with your attitude and how you treat those of us in the LGBT community. I’m not trying to condemn you; I know you mean well and you’re a good man. But please read this together with your wife and evaluate if you are following the Savior and His teachings in this regard. And as you told me before, I’ll tell you: “you know I’m right”.

Facebook post:

Susie N Paul Augenstein is with Alyson Paul and George Deussen. (shared with permission)

February 2 · 

This is George Deussen and Alyson Paul. They are the proud parents of Stockton who they lost to suicide 18 months ago. They spoke at our church meeting about how we as LDS members can create a more welcoming place for our teenagers who come out as LGBTQ. This is so important and can and will save lives if we can listen to their counsel and learn from their personal experience. Alyson and George are available for any questions and are always willing to share their story to help us do better and to honor their son Stockton. #standingforstockton

Alyson’s talk:

Story – Will you still love me if………? By Catherine LeBlanc would you still love me if I was gay? Our son at the age of 13 years old came out to us and was afraid that we might not still love him. To say that we were ill equipped to help our son was an understatement and we were soon on the fast track to learning. One thing that I was sure from the very start was that Stockton would be loved unconditionally and accepted fully. I knew if I was going to help our son thrive I needed to have open and honest communication. I needed to learn everything I could about the lgbt community and find him safe places he could land. I needed him to feel like he could talk to me without feeling shame and guilt. Loving without condition and choosing to love was the first of many beautiful things I gained from my son. I chose love and for that I will be forever grateful.

When Jesus was criticized for reaching out to so-called outsiders, he responded by saying, “What man of you, having an hundred sheep, if he lose one of them, doth not leave the ninety and nine in the wilderness, and go after [the one].” [6] As members, our time, vision, and outreach should really be focused on the one, which for today’s meeting, represents our gay brothers and sisters.

I for one know that I can show more compassion. Compassion for those cast on the side of the road whom the Levite and priest passed by. Elder Ronald Rasband recently stated: “Reaching out to rescue one another, under any condition, is an eternal measure of love… As members of the Church, we each have the sacred responsibility “to bear one another’s burdens, that they may be light,”8 “to mourn with those that mourn,” and to “lift up the hands which hang down, and strengthen the feeble knees.”

It is my goal to express more love for and to my LGBT brothers and sisters. I learned that from my son. My son Stockton was a long awaited gift that I was blessed with for 17 very short years. As Paul shared we lost our son 19 months ago to suicide. (As a side note – suicide is another subject that is very difficult to discuss, but in an effort to save lives we need to be able to talk openly with our loved ones about how they are feeling. The church just released an updated website on suicide with helpful information, be willing to ask the tough questions to those around you when you notice things seem off and I would ask that if you know someone who has lost someone to suicide that you don’t be afraid to reach out and offer a hand of love and compassion.

How thankful I am that my son left this earth knowing how loved he was exactly the way he was. Unfortunately, during those teenage years our youths focus become less and less on family/parents and more and more on peers and their sense of community. He felt like a square peg trying to fit in a round hole. It wasn’t the mean word said or occasional bullying that hurt as much as it was being ignored, being left out or not being acknowledged. My son felt a great deal of pain losing his community and wanting to feel a part of something he had known all of his life – his ward, neighborhood and peers at school. We cannot pretend they are not in our wards, stakes and families. They are there and need our love. We also need their love. Ask them about their experiences and feelings. These are real people with real lives and feelings. Remember there are real LGBT members in our wards. At church, in the closet or out. They and their loved ones are there and need us to change how we talk about and to them. We need to simply learn to love more generously. Our youth need leaders and mentors who will reach out to them with love and kindness and welcome them into our classrooms with love and compassion. Above all they need to learn and know they have a loving heavenly father and savior.

A quote I love from President Uchtdorf – We must realize that all of Gods children wear the same jersey. Our team is the brotherhood and sisterhood of mankind. This mortal life is our playing field. Our goal is to learn to love God and to extend that same love toward our fellow man.”

Recently I was an LDS lgbt cottage meeting where Senator Adams shared this – after working on and passing a few bills in regards to the lgbt community. He said I had to stop protecting my religion and start living it. This is the beautiful gift my son has given me. Having spent 5 years on this journey I have had regrets, heartache, sleepless nights, worry, joy, love, anger, happiness and meaning because I have a gay son. I have a greater understanding of unconditional love – a beautiful gift that was given to me by my son. Something that I now know has been a refining moment in my life, something that has sustained me during the days following his death and continues to be a guiding force for good. I’m sure you are familiar with the song “For good” from the Broadway musical wicked. These words resonate with me

I’ve heard it said

that people come into our lives for a reason.

Bringing something we must learn

and we are led

to those who help us most to grow

if we let them

and we help them in return

well, I don’t know if I believe that’s true

But I know I’m who I am today

Because I knew you…

It well may be

That we will never meet again

In this lifetime

So let me say before we part

So much of me

Is made of what I learned from you

You’ll be with me

Like a handprint on my heart

Like a ship blown from its mooring

By a wind off the sea

Like a seed dropped by a skybird

In a distant wood

Who can say if I’ve been changed for the better

Because I knew you

Because I knew you

I have been changed for good.

Our lgbt brothers and sister young and old need us to link arms and become one as our Savior would want us to do. They need to be included, surrounded, sat by, invited, seen, smiled at, picked up – just as the Savior did. This can go for all people of all shapes, sizes, colors, genders ethnicities etc.

As ward and church members we can create an environment and culture for all members to feel welcome and loved.” [27] Be aware to make kind, loving comments in classes and talks. Our LGBT brothers and sisters listen intently to comments made at church to discern who in his ward would be accepting of his or her orientation and who may be unkind. Insensitive comments may unintentionally close the doors to friendship which may be desperately needed.

“As ward members become aware of [the sexual orientation of other ward members], help them to show love, support and encouragement.”[28] “Seek to remove shame and combat stereotypes and myths” [29]
Avoid only preaching the “ideal”. Our wards consist of many unique situations and all should feel included, not isolated. Our messages of the “ideal” Mormon or the “ideal” life can potentially push souls away from the gospel they so desperately want to keep in their life.

I found this quote amongst some notes I keep on lgbt Mormons – “What if gays are part of the plan to see if Christians really would love one another.” Our wards should be the place for developing that love.

From the words of my friend John Bonner -speaking of his friends and LDS community.

I know their first instinct is to reach out, to assure us that as long as they have a home, we will have a place in it. That when their table is spread, we will always have a seat around it. And that whenever we decide to celebrate our love with the person we’ve chosen to make a life with, they will be there in the front row applauding louder and weeping more tears of joy than anyone.

Let’s commit now as brothers and sisters regardless as to where we sit at the table to make a place. One where everyone knows of each other’s love, support and most importantly a love of our Savior whom knows each one of us personally. Who understands our pain and has died that we may live again.

This life experience is about finding our way back to love. All the rest is just part of the tough journey we call life. Thank you, Stockton, for being my teacher. My promise is to learn to love with all of my heart, forgive in ways I thought were not possible, release anger that no longer serves me, reaching out and loving your tribe whom I have been so lovingly welcomed in and return to meet you again saying I did it! I lived for you! I honor your memory by loving and finding joy again. I hope you too will find greater joy by reaching out and learning to love and understand our lgbt brothers and sisters.

With love,

Alyson Paul Deussen

#StandingforStockton

George’s Talk:

I am honored to be a part of this vital conversation today. It is my desire that the Spirit be with us all as we direct our hearts to following our Father in heaven and His beloved Son, Jesus Christ, by subscribing to the tenets, principles and power of LOVE.

As I embark on this talk, these comments, I choose to honor my son, by loving, seeing him, receiving him and loving him, just as Father created him, and by so doing, honor my Father in heaven and one of his beautiful creations.

I am blessed to have a gay son and to have had and the continued gift of associating with the LGBTQIA community.

Moroni 8:17

And I am filled with charity, which is everlasting love; wherefore, all children are alike unto me; wherefore, I love little children with a perfect love; and they are all alike and partakers of salvation.

Mathew 22

37 Jesus said unto him, Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind.

38 This is the first and great commandment.

39 And the second is like unto it, Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself.

I don’t believe that The Lord put the focus on LOVE in the first two great commandments by some freak chance. I believe that He was teaching us that Love is the way for us to engage all things in our lives

From the moment I set my eyes on my son, I fell in love with him. His infectious smile, laugh and mischievousness were an instant hit with me. His precious hugs and endearing stare would melt any frustration and would heal any sadness. His light was powerful. His light continues to be powerful.

My son and I shared a great love for music. I have found myself listening more to the music he loved. On many occasions I would listen to him practice the guitar in our living room. He had a song that he would sing that is a favorite of mine, “Falling Slowly” from the musical, “Once”. As he practiced I would ask him to play it. He would oblige me, each and every time. As I would listen to him, I couldn’t help but get caught up in how it felt so personal. For a moment, he would let his guard down. He and I would get lost in that moment together, he expressing himself and me, admiring his openness and vulnerability. He would always ask me, “Do you like it?” And once I collected myself, I would respond with, ” WOW!” He would smile big and always say, “Really, you really think so?” I am grateful for those sacred moments.

We all want to be appreciated and valued, seen for what is great about us. We all want to be cheered on! We all want to be loved for who we are.

My son didn’t always feel accepted and appreciated by others. Ward members, peers and leaders in my ward and stake treated him in way that left him asking questions about what might be wrong with him that these people would treat him in such a way, especially, members of the church. As I watched and felt the pain of these experiences I realized how vital it is to create safe spaces in our homes and in our communities. Safe places are places where our family, friends and others feel that they don’t need to hide themselves from the potential harm of others.

“I love these words of Archbishop Desmond Tutu: “There is no situation that is not transformable. There is no person who is hopeless. There is no set of circumstances that cannot be turned about by human beings and their natural capacity for love of the deepest sort.”

On June 27, 2016, my world changed in a most significant way. It was the day that my son took his life.

Discussing the loss of my son is a challenging subject matter. Men don’t normally talk about the things that hurt them.

As a father, I felt a great need to not only deeply love my child and all my children, but to also protect them. The grief I feel includes the struggle of wondering why I needed to protect my son from people that should have treated him differently.  I also feel the loss of a community that I thought was and would be so much different in this moment, the one that was going to bare my burdens with me.

If you love someone, you are always joined with them–in joy, in absence, in solitude, in strife.

~ Rumi

LEARNING TO LOVE WITHOUT BOUNDARIES

Many years ago, my wife approached me and wanted to purchase flower baskets to be placed around our home to add color and beauty. I was at first a bit resistant when she told me the cost, but as is usual in our home, I relented and quickly appreciated them for many reasons. It became my responsibility to care for these flowers and ensure that they received the water they needed. One day my wife asked that I remember to water the edges of the baskets. She said, “George, please remember to water the edges of the baskets. If you don’t, the flowers will die” Little did I know how profound her comments would affect me after Stockton’s passing.

Just after his funeral, I was out in our yard watering those same flowers and her words came to me with such force that I began to cry. Those precious flowers on the edge of the flower basket were my son, as well as the LGBTQ community. Put on the edges, marginalized, and even abandoned.

They weren’t put there by our Father in heaven, or by His Son, Jesus Christ. They were put there by fellow travelers.

As I composed myself and took a deep breath. I thought more about the significance of the flower basket. It was beautiful; all of it. It was filled with many colors, all adding to the beauty of the whole. I began to think how often we believe, myself included, that others must change to be more like us. I thought how drab the flower basket would be if all the flowers were green, or the same color, having no variation and difference. Just like my flower baskets, we all need water, nourishment, love, kindness and appreciation for our divine design. And just as my flower baskets, there is great beauty and benefit in differences. We are created with differences for a grand and divine purpose. He created us with identities, after His Holy Image. I am also a firm believer that Father doesn’t make mistakes.

As much as this is incredibly difficult, I have gained an understanding of what my son felt, and I learned through this how vital the community can and needs to be. This experience has moved, motivated and inspired me to reach out to the community and to look at each one as I would look at my own child.

The loss of my son has ultimately provided fuel to raise my words and deeds, seeking to create a safe place, encouraging a community of deep love.

As I was preparing this talk, I felt a pull to discuss the parable of the lost sheep, leaving the ninety and nine and going after the one. It is one of my favorite parables, if not my favorite. I love the message and the power of what it is telling me and everyone in this room. That message is this, our Savior, Jesus Christ sees each one of us as precious and important. We are important enough that he would come after us. It also says to me that we are truly never alone. That He is and will be with us always. This parable is truly the Atonement. All that we are, all that we might struggle with, anything that weighs us down, sickness and infirmity, rejection and abandonment. He knows these things becomes he bore them, because He loves us deeper than we might fully comprehend. I also strongly believe that He is sending us all a message. Be even as I am! Go after the one. See all around you as precious and beautiful as I see them. Don’t reject anyone because they are different. Go find them, love them, lift them, minister to them. I am so grateful for this parable, this gift, this powerful example of what it truly means to be a disciple of Jesus Christ. I pray with all my heart that each of you, all of us, will awaken to this beautiful message that our Savior has given us in this powerful parable.

Yesterday, was the 19th month anniversary of my son’s passing. An anniversary that brings a great deal of pain and grief. An anniversary that reminds me, that each one of God’s children is precious and loved by Him. It is also a powerful reminder that when God commanded us to love, He did not segregate that love. I challenge you to get comfortable with loving those that you think you can’t love. I challenge you to step up to the commandment of Love, to embrace it. I too have struggled with this and because I took the challenge, my life has been blessed. Getting to know and love the LGBTQIA community has been one of the greatest and most cherished gifts in my life.

Guest Post: Nothing to See Here #MormonMeToo

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By Caroline Crockett Brock

I find myself staggering through today, feeling a panoply of sharp-edged emotions, the depth of which surprises me. I’m incredulous. Indignant. Incensed. More than anything, I feel a bone-deep frustration at my old tribe. I stand at the edges and see the dance of smoke and mirrors their leaders engage in, as they carefully circle the fire of public opinion. They take the hands of lawyers and PR managers, and cunningly direct the tribe’s attention off the thousands of us who’ve been shamed, abused, offended, falsely taught, disbelieved, and shattered.

Of course, I see it now. They had to dance around the fire before the countless wounded were marched in front of them.

They could not allow the fire to spread.

“We’ve changed the policy,” they say. “We’re listening!”

“You can all go back to your everyday lives now. Nothing to see here!”

You’re right. Nothing to see here. No godliness or emotional maturity exhibited. Nothing to emulate. Nothing to model. Nothing more than another egotistical organization trying to placate their base and evade all responsibility.

I find it depressingly ironic that a church so focused on assessing individual accountability can be so blind to their own.

Where’s the Church’s worthiness interview? Can we all attend?

I have never been more offended. Insult my politics. Attack my beliefs. But please, don’t pawn off this petty meaningless drivel as an enlightened solution. Don’t you dare insult my intelligence.

I am a mother who already knew her rights, thank you. I am a mother of four girls who already sits in the interview room with her daughters. I’m a “mother who knows.”

Nothing to see here.

They’re right, you know. My daughters will never be abused by a bishop in an interview room. Priesthood predators will not groom my daughters. A bishop will not penetrate them at age eight while talking about repentance and Jesus. He will never teach them about masturbation or lead them into a secret basement room. These evil men target the weak. The “least of these,” as Christ would say. They pick off the stragglers at the back, the ones whose parents are too trusting, or absent altogether.

Is there nothing to see here?

I was once a daughter of goodly parents. While my own father was a bishop back at home, I was emotionally abused by my bishop at BYU. Much like the MTC, these church-run institutions are places where goodly parents think their kids are safe from the shepherds called to preside over them. Places where the suffering will now continue for future decades, and on and on and on.

Is there nothing to see there?

In my heart of hearts, I’d like to be proud of my tribe, even though I don’t believe in their truth claims.

I’d like to say that at the very least, my religious alma mater exhibits humility and grace as they navigate the issues of modern-day management of a religion.

I’d like to say they aren’t doing exactly what they preach against.

They’re not only leaning on the arm of flesh, they’ve mated with it. At this point, I don’t know how to separate the comingling flesh of Kirton McConkie from the Q15. Can you tell me where one ends and the other begins? Does anyone know?

I wish I could say there was “something to see” in the LDS church today.

Something resembling organizational accountability and humility.

Something resembling enlightened leadership.

Something vaguely resembling anything Christ stood for.

Alas, I stand at the edge of the tribe and watch them dance.

There’s nothing to see here, yet my family is captivated.

Nothing to see.

And the dance continues.

=====================

“[T]he powers of heaven cannot be controlled nor handled only upon the principles of righteousness. . . . When we undertake to cover our sins, or to gratify our pride, our vain ambition [such as protecting the “good name of the church” by ignoring, doubting, or squelching the cries of abused people—i.e. pride, ambition], or to exercise control or dominion or compulsion upon the souls of the children of men, in any degree of unrighteousness, behold, the heavens withdraw themselves; the Spirit of the Lord is grieved; and when it is withdrawn, Amen to the priesthood or the authority of that man.” (D&C 121:36-37)

Caroline is a mother, wife, writer, and fellow goddess in embryo.

One of the tens of thousands with stories of LDS abuse to share. #notablip #notevenclose

Guest Post: My Mission President Sexually Harassed Me #MormonMeToo

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By Emily B.

My mission president sexually harassed me, although I was too innocent to call it that at the time. He targeted several other sister missionaries as well. During personal interviews he would tell us about things he researched about sex, making it sound like he was teaching us. He was lewd. Even though he tried to make it sound like he was just reminiscing about the past when he told me about the sexual activities of an old friend, for example, I knew that it was wrong. He tried to make his dirty talk look like a typical chastity interview. He was sly about it. He would mix gospel doctrine with sex talk in a way that made it sound like he was just being clinical or professional, and he’d add missionary work counsel that just happened to be about sex. But it was always too much sex, more than was normal in the bishop’s interviews of our younger days. It was always way, way too much sex talk to be an accident or chattiness.

It made me uncomfortable at first, then I learned to lean on the other sister missionaries for help. Friendly companions who believed me would help me get out of interviews early or would go into an interview with me. My companions and I tried things like linking arms and saying, “Gosh, president, there is so much unity in our companionship and we love each other so much that we want to have all of our interviews together!” That moment of physically protecting each other–of standing with our arms literally linked together–was so important to me. Those memories all came back to me when I read about Hollywood actresses helping each other survive Harvey Weinstein. But we weren’t actresses, we were full-time representatives of Christ. Unfortunately, not even the law of witnesses stopped him from talking dirty to Christ’s female ambassadors. He just kept commenting about our bodies or talking about sexual stuff in our interviews anyway. It frightened us into deeper silence to see how he didn’t even fear a witness in the room. Like he knew he was invincible.

My mission president didn’t verbally assault all of the sister missionaries with his awful sex talk. He had a “type” that he preferred to target. Those who were not harassed were manipulated through special treatment. The mission president granted them favors, like allowing one sister to leave the country for a trip, or giving permission to not go tracting when those sisters were feeling homesick, or telling sisters they could call home when they wanted. He earned their loyalty and they would never believe the sisters who experienced harassment. The sisters who were harassed came up with a shorthand term for those who were loyal to the mission president. Just as fangirls of Justin Bieber are sometimes called “Beliebers,” we had a name for those who would protect the mission president at all costs, even if it meant turning their backs on fellow sister missionaries.

Why didn’t we speak up or do something more to protect ourselves? Looking back, I am devastated by the question of why I didn’t stand up for myself. Why did I stay frozen in my chair every month? Why enter the room with him in the first place? Why not tell my parents when I wrote them?

We had been conditioned to be seated and stay seated for male leadership from the time we were primary children. I was in a new place adjusting to a new culture while the man the church assigned to protect and guide was instead somebody who made me feel gross and violated. We were told that our mission president was called by God. We had to sustain him to go to the temple.He had all the keys to get me anywhere, literally and figuratively. To this day I can’t imagine a scenario where I could have gotten help, had people believe me, and been able to finish my mission.

I have so many regrets that I didn’t do more to help other sisters. There are sisters I could have helped or warned or rescued from him. I didn’t act because of ignorance and the commandment to sustain leaders. I worry that what might have happened to women who followed me is my fault for not doing more. I should have done more. But what more could I have done?

There was one moment when it seemed like somebody with power might actually help us. An area authority spoke at our zone conference and he scolded our mission president in front of the entire mission for breaking rules. The sisters who had been harassed tried not to get too excited, but we were hopeful about what had happened. Was this it, were we being saved? Would this area authority tell the brethren in Salt Lake City about the fallen mission president and we would get a new one? Would this area authority interview us and use powers of discernment to say he knew all along and we could reveal everything that had been going on? Unfortunately no, that never happened. Instead, the area authority met with some office elders, but never any sisters. He brought his wife with him to our mission, but she didn’t meet with any sisters, either.

Today, that visiting area authority is an apostle. I sustain him, but I always watch his conference talks with a longing heart because I can imagine how he might have saved us from those filthy interviews. If only he had looked a little closer! If only somebody had talked to the sisters! If that future apostle or his wife had just talked to the sister missionaries, those years of sexual harassment might have been stopped. I wouldn’t have to carry these years of pain and this guilt for the sisters I didn’t save.

A few years ago, I did try to report what happened to me to a member of my local bishopric. I did try reporting what happened to me to a member of my local bishopric a few years ago. He didn’t believe me and insisted that his mission president was one of the greatest men he ever knew, and that therefore my mission president must have been beyond reproach. He dismissed what I said so quickly I know it was never reported up the chain. I definitely won’t be reporting it again.

The three things I feared the most and that kept me from standing up to my abuser were fear for my church membership, the possibility of my mission ending early, and worry about whether I would be believed. The Church newsroom’s March 20 press release in response to the Joseph Bishop scandal used all three of my greatest fears to discredit the victim. They cast doubt on her statement, despite the recording of his confession. They pointed out that she is a “former” member of the church and that she was only “briefly” a missionary. It is evil to use an abuse victim’s greatest fears as a weapon against her and as a deterrent from future reporting of sexual assault and harassment.

I hope that in the future, the church will be more respectful of those who have endured this pain, apologize publicly when harm has been done, respect victims’ privacy, and take bigger steps to prevent it from happening again. As it stands, the Church’s response succeeded–I am too afraid to post this story under my own name or to name my mission president. He is still active in the church, still interacting with young women, still a threat. I hold the Church responsible for that because they have created a culture where women are silenced.

I want other sister missionary-survivors to know that they are not alone and that I wish I could have saved them. Abuse victims deserve to be believed, protected, helped, and supported. Just as the sisters in my mission literally linked arms and helped each other out each month when we went into that interview room, we sisters churchwide should be linking arms with the Joseph Bishop’s victim because she is all of us. We sisters should all serve, lift, and support each victim of abuse the way actresses in Hollywood united in the fight against Harvey Weinstein. Hollywood women shouldn’t be known as more supportive and nurturing females than our own Relief Society! Just as the sister missionaries in my mission helped each other survive my mission president’s filthy verbal assaults, today’s sisters should step up and support each other when reports of abuse are heard. We should be especially diligent in reaching out when the men among us use the media to attack our wounded sisters.

Guest Post: My Story #MormonMeToo

[image error]This post is an excerpt from a letter Mahlah wrote and sent to her church leaders. 

by Mahlah

​When I was on my mission I had an experience that is to this day difficult for me to speak of. We saw naked men here and there, usually old and drunk. Not such a big deal. But one day as my companion and I knocked on a door, a man opened it wearing just a robe (again not uncommon for where I was serving) and invited us in. We sat down on his couch and waited while he, presumably, went to put some clothes on. When he returned, he opened his robe to reveal his erect penis. I cannot describe to you how violated I felt in that moment. My companion and I stood up, left and went straight home. The rest of the day was spent singing hymns and sobbing in the bathroom of our small studio apartment. I prayed. I read my scriptures. I asked why this would happen to us? We were doing everything right. Why hadn’t the spirit protected us? Warned us? Through my tears I began to feel peace and the voice of the Lord in my mind, telling me that through this experience I could know the power of the Atonement to heal all wounds.

​My companion and I never spoke of this to anyone. If we had, I’m pretty sure we wouldn’t have been asked if our shirts were too tight or our skirts too short. They wouldn’t have asked us if we were at a party that was a little questionable. They wouldn’t have asked if we had been drinking. Yet, so often these are the types of questions being asked when girls come forward to friends or bishops to report sexual assault.

​When I was 16 I was sexually assaulted by my 19-year-old, LDS boyfriend. I eventually went to my bishop. But it wasn’t to report assault; it was to repent of my sins. I completely blamed myself for what happened. I spoke of it to no one else, for years hiding it even from my husband, fearing he would reject me as damaged goods. Shame silenced me. I suffered alone.

I have learned a lot since I was 16. I have learned what respect and boundaries look like. I have learned how common sexual assault is. I have learned how victims often blame themselves. It was only when I picked up a book on abuse that I started to understand why. “The experience of being violated challenges one’s most basic assumptions about the self as invulnerable and intrinsically worthy and about the world being just and orderly. Assuming responsibility for the abuse allows feelings of helplessness to be replaced with an illusion of control.”

For so long I tried to repress those memories, to put them behind me. I wondered why they would still trouble me so much, since I had “repented” of my “sin.” But life events, physical pain, and news stories all had a way of reminding me that I am still scarred. As hard as it was to heal from the experience on my mission (which still makes me cringe), it is nothing compared to healing from what happened at 16. It is difficult to deal with the trauma of reliving memories. It is difficult to deal with the fear that I will not be believed, that I will be asked what I was wearing or why I was in his car. I cannot describe how vulnerable I feel when I see my children’s innocence and joy. I cannot describe how often anxiety is triggered when I think I can’t protect them.

My healing process is an ongoing journey. I have had to ask, Did I not really repent, if I still feel this shame? Am I just trying to abdicate blame of my sinful youth? In President Uchtdorf’s talk from the most recent Women’s Broadcast, he tells a parable of three sisters, one sad, one mad and one glad. I have been through all of those phases. I have seen myself as the victim. I have blamed the church, the world, my family, myself. Unlike the second sister, who believes she is the only one with good intentions, I do not doubt that everyone is trying to do their best. I am speaking out because I love the church and to borrow the words of Elder Christofferson, “Love demands warning people about what can hurt them… To warn is to care. The Lord instructs that it is to be done ‘in mildness and in meekness’ and ‘by persuasion, by long-suffering, by gentleness …, and by love unfeigned.’ …It must be clear and sometimes firm.” I am not perfect. As I’ve prepared this, I still occasionally have to quell the anger, hurt and blame that arise. My intent is to shed light on culture within our church that is leading to shame, disengagement and suffering. My intent is to add to the conversation on perfectionism and shame. Brene Brown, a renowned shame and vulnerability researcher, describes perfectionism as a 20-ton shield people use to try and protect themselves from the pain of judgment and shame.

As I let go of blame, I have found power in turning my anger to compassion and activism. My story is now filled with healing and a deeper appreciation of my Savior and the Atonement. In past months, I’ve asked myself, How would my story be different if there had been a woman I could confide in and she could see my vulnerabilities as a 16-year- old and pull me out of a submissive relationship? How has my experience and new understanding of the power of shame and silence shaped me? It could be easy to look at my years of silent suffering as unnecessary. But I would not alter my experience. I have developed more compassion for others and I have a deeper resolution not to judge or gossip. Had I resolved these things at the beginning of my marriage, I would likely not be writing this letter today. My experience has shaped who I am, my relationship with God, and my determination to speak up when I see someone in pain.

My invitation to you is to reflect on what you can do as leaders to help heal old wounds and help prevent shame in the rising generation. For me personally, as painful as it is to deal with the ramifications and memories of my assault, it is like salt on my wounds every time I hear someone questioning the veracity of a person’s story. It is difficult to sit in a lesson on modesty and hear yet another woman comment that women should cover up because men can’t control their thoughts. It is painful to hear people speculate and judge why someone struggles or has left the church when they have no idea the depth of a person’s sorrow. And it is absolutely appalling to read stories of women who report rape and are told to repent and forgive. As I sat recently with a friend who expressed her outrage at the women who wait for years before they ever speak up about assault, I tried to calmly explain the culture of fear and shame that silences women. I tried to explain how often people blame themselves. But I did not share my personal story. I was being ripped apart on the inside. We must all work together to create a safe environment of empathy and love where people can come forward with whatever challenge they face and not fear shame, judgment and rejection. We must convey the message that no one is alone.

 

Reflection Points

The power of the Atonement is infinite. Christ can heal all wounds and make all things pure and whole. Guilt, which is internal and helps one know when they have made a mistake, leads to repentance. In contrast, shame is a form of external control. It is a feeling that I am bad, rather than I did something bad, and leads to disconnection and hopelessness. Using shame to teach about sin and sexuality is never justified. We must examine sources of shame in our church culture and strive to improve the way we teach and speak to one another.
Perfectionism is often used to shield against feelings of shame. We must find ways that allow people to be vulnerable and authentic so they can find the support and help they need to access the Atonement and know they are not alone.
Purity is often equated with virginity. This can be especially damaging to victims of sexual abuse. We must examine the language we use when teaching the law of chastity. We must be wary of frequent analogies of “damaged goods” that do not communicate the infinite power of the Atonement.
Modesty is a term that encompasses many behaviors, yet it is frequently taught emphasizing the dress of girls and women. We must find ways to teach the principle of modesty to more accurately reflect the principle of a commitment to God that is inwardly focused and not as a way to control men’s thoughts. Men must be taught that it is their own responsibility to keep their thoughts and actions clean, even and especially in cases where many aspects of their environment or circumstances are beyond their control. It is neither righteous or justified to shift the burden of this responsibility to the women in their company.
We must explore what lies at the root of sexual assault and violence against women and what we can do to prevent abuse. We must understand the tendency of victims to blame themselves and help them find healing through the power of Jesus Christ.
As a religious institution we must support parents in teaching healthy sexuality to their children. This must move beyond abstinence only, encompassing accurate information and resources. It should accurately reflect the beauty of God’s gift and the values and morals of sexual responsibility without using shame or fear. It must include consent and be centered on the infinite power of the Atonement.
Children and youth need guidance to understand healthy sexuality, have their desires normalized and learn to differentiate between choice and coercion. However, shame surrounding sexuality often prevents open dialogue with parents and leaders, leaving adolescents on their own to navigate situations of abuse or repentance. We must find ways to respond in love, not shame, and thereby keep communication lines open.
The law of chastity clearly states that sexual relations should be in the bounds of marriage, but this leaves many wondering about the appropriateness of masturbation, an individual behavior. With the only current statement to be found in the For Strength of Youth pamphlet, (Do not do anything else that arouses sexual feelings. Do not arouse those emotions in your own body.) it is unclear to members how they should respond to young children, where masturbation is clearly not tied to lust.
We must examine our teachings on masturbation and how shame has historically silenced many people from discussing masturbation. We must not shame children for normal exploration of their bodies. We must reflect on God’s intention and design for self-love and differentiate between healthy and unhealthy uses of masturbation.
We must examine how pornography is spoken of in the church. Just as the shame of sexual abuse silences many victims, shame surrounding pornography prevents many from openly speaking about use or getting help. We must explore ways to help people break from the shame, secrecy and hopelessness of pornography use.
Masturbation is frequently tied to pornography, which clouds healthy uses of masturbation, and makes open conversations difficult. Additionally, pornography is often spoken of simply as immoral without addressing misogyny and the objectification of women. We must do more to address misogyny and encourage the equality of women.
We must find ways to stand with vulnerable groups that have historically been abused and marginalized, such as women, children and those who identify as LGBTQ. We must find ways to give them a voice and hear their stories.
So often sin is a response to deep emotional wounds. We must examine the language we use regarding sin and do all we can to help people feel the love of their Savior and witness to their unconditional worth.
Culturally, a woman’s value has been tied to her marital status or marriageability, which often puts undue pressure on girls and can lead to the silence and shaming of girls who have been abused, divorced or in other sexual relationships. We must be sure that the way we speak of women accurately communicates their infinite and unconditional worth.
We must examine the structure of worthiness interviews and strive to prevent abuse or shaming by clergy. We must understand the danger and difficulty of girls and women discussing matters of sexuality with their bishops. We must understand how guilt can lead someone to repentance, but shame can lead to people feeling unworthy of God’s love.
We must raise awareness of sexual abuse and provide more training for members, who ultimately constitute the lay clergy. We must do all we can to break cycles of abuse and silence. We would do well to remember that in every lesson and talk there will be a victim listening. We must do all we can to create a safe environment for people to heal.
We must hold ourselves accountable for our role in upholding human rights and preventing violence.
We must take responsibility for inaccurate teachings of the past and make course corrections as necessary. Admitting and correcting mistakes can deepen trust and improve relationships.

When I Suffered Alone: A #MormonMeToo Post about a Bishop Who Should Have Known Better

[image error]

photo by dragonflaiii

I found photos on our home computer one night when I was searching for some pictures of the kids–they showed my husband and another woman on vacation together, clearly enjoying themselves.

That night he confessed that he’d met up with her several times for professional conferences and he begged for forgiveness, ensuring me that he would never let it happen again. I believed him because of the sincerity of his forgiveness, but of course I insisted that he confess to the Bishop so he could make things right with God. It was then that an already-awful experience became even worse for me.

The bishop and my husband worked out a plan together for him to forgo the sacrament, to meet weekly for counseling, to read the scriptures, et cetera. The Bishop called me into his office and explained to me that I must never tell any of my family members or friends about what had happened, because it would tarnish my husband’s reputation. My bishop explained that my husband’s repentance process would go much more smoothly if no one else was aware of the circumstances.

While perhaps that was good advice that benefited my husband, it did not help me. He took the car to work every day while I was home tending our young children. We lived far away from family. We were in a neighborhood in a weird far-off corner of the ward where no other LDS families lived. Most of the time I was alone all day with the kids and alone all evening with the kids (he often worked late). I became more and more isolated and the fears built as I rehearsed over and over in my mind the images that I’d seen on our computer.

After a few months of growing depression and loneliness, I went to the bishop by myself and explained that I was depressed, had lost 30 lbs, and sometimes burned and cut myself. I asked if he could help me find some counseling. I knew we didn’t have the money to afford it ourselves, but hoped that the bishop would be able to give me a referral to someone who could help me find some hope again.

Instead, he told me that I should call him if I ever felt sad or felt a need to self-injure. He did not offer any professional counseling and reiterated that I should not share what I’d been through with my husband or with anyone else.

The months after that are pretty blurry for me now, and the story has a fairly-circuitous-but-eventually-happy-ending which includes divorce, remarriage, and gaining a strong feeling of self-worth.

The recent #metoo movement has had me looking back on some of what happened all those years ago and how shabbily I was treated not only by my husband, but by my bishop. That bishop supported my husband’s repentance process, left me to suffer alone, and caused me years of unnecessary anguish and depression.

I suspect that there are many other women in that ward who were given this same counsel, by this same man, and who desperately needed help and were not given it. It’s some comfort to know that women in crisis can now choose to have another woman with them when they meet with the Bishop. At least that means that they will never be as alone I was. I suspect that if I had had an ally at my side that she might have stressed the need for the bishop to get me help, too.

Guest Post: Spiritual Abuse Compounds Sexual Abuse #MormonMeToo

[image error]Dear Pres. Nelson,

I am a survivor of abuse. I have had to work really hard to understand abuse, what causes it, and how to deal with the consequences. When I needed help the most, I turned to the church for help, only to have my abuse misunderstood and misdiagnosed as a spiritual problem. My strong determination, love, and faith in my Father in Heaven was the only thing that saved me, as well as the ability to separate God’s love from the weakness of the arm of flesh, even in the Lord’s Church.

My husband psychologically abused me for 10 years. It was a slow undermining process that I didn’t recognize for what it was until 6 years after I left him. The tipping point that forced my hand to leave came when I not only tried to kill myself, but also my children. This mental state required change, and when he didn’t like what needed to be changed it led to him having an affair, blaming me, and eventually raping me for talking to the other woman. During the space of time from my breakdown and me leaving, I tried to ask for help from the bishop. He told me it was my problem and my fault. Because I didn’t understand what was happening I internalized this, compounding the problem.

After I left and completed my divorce the devastation to my entire being can’t even be described. The lack of being able to function normally was impossible. My ex continued to gaslight, belittle and discount me. I can’t even go into all he did during and continues to do after our marriage. I know now what was happening, but at the time it was so confusing and painful. This lack of self-worth and devastation along with lack of work experience left me displaced, desperate, and dysfunctional. It was hard to get and keep a job. I went looking for relationships because I was desperate to feel loved and be validated as a human, AND because I couldn’t financially survive on my own. Because of the psychological-sexual abuse I didn’t realize I had experienced, I found myself dating men who took advantage of me and not knowing how to stop it. Bishops told me that I had a sex addiction, that I didn’t have enough faith, or understand the atonement. Because I myself didn’t understand what was going on, I took everything they said to heart. I worked really hard and constantly did everything they told me to do. At one point I had regained my temple recommend and started attending the temple once a week for almost a year before I was disfellowshiped again. I had thought that if I went every week it would make me stronger, but it didn’t solve the root of the problem because I didn’t know what it was. My frustration grew, as the men I had sinned with got little to no reprimand while I was disfellowshiped. I was even raped by a member of an Elder’s Quorum presidency in a singles ward and 3 months later they made him the president. He told me he talked to his bishop, and I had told my Stake President, but I must not have been worth the investigation. Two of the men who I had problems with were good men who I married because my bishops told me if I didn’t they would have to excommunicate me. This was not the answer and only made things worse and the relationships didn’t last longer than a few months because of things I hadn’t healed from. When I moved to new wards and had to explain my situation over and over, the fact I had been divorced became a stigma that overshadowed the core problem.

I started to believe that no matter how many books I read, how many conference talks I listened to, or how many times a day I prayed that I would never conquer this problem. But the more I read and learned, the closer my relationship with God became, and my personal revelation continued to grow. My love and passion for God grew so much, and I felt his love everyday, but before I continue my story I want to testify that sin does not drive the spirit away, not when you don’t want it to happen, you don’t know why it is, and you are doing everything you can to stop it but you don’t understand why. God pours his love and his words of comfort in these moments.

It has taken me 10 years to heal form the 10 years I was with him, and I still find insecurities to deal with. Five years after I left, I was feeling lost and my cries for help were falling on deaf ears, especially with every added incident. The Spirit led me to find a psychologist. She was the first person I had found who knew what had happened to me. I had been to lots of different counselors in the church and out of the church but none of them could tell me why. She had me do my own research so that I would understand better what was going on. I learned about gas lighting, undermining, discounting, belittling, humiliation, neglect, and isolation. I learned that when these things are repeated over long periods, they are considered abuse. I learned the consequences the victim experiences from this kind of abuse are displacement, bad choices, and unstable relationships, among a list of other things. I finally started to get answers, but I still hadn’t made connections to the sexual abuse my ex-husband inflicted on me because it was verbal and emotional. When I brought this information to my bishop, he dismissed it and didn’t see how it was relevant to my sin. When I had been doing well for a long period and asked if I could take the sacrament, he told me that I didn’t have the light of Christ in my countenance. This was one bishop of seven different bishops that I have worked with who treated me the same.

Four years ago I met my current husband. Because I still didn’t understand the scope of the problem we had sexual relations before marriage. My bishop told me after a year if everything went well I could have my blessings restored. During that year I had to face insecurities around sexual intimacy. My husband wasn’t demanding and waited for me to give him permission. I felt unwanted and unloved. As we worked out the problem, I started to make connections to how I was treated in my first marriage. I was expected to have sex, almost every night. I was told if I didn’t, I was denying him the ability to show me love because that was the only way to show me love. It didn’t matter if I was bleeding, just had a baby, or was sick. If I told him no, he punished me with passive aggressive behavior. He would ignore me, not allow me to touch him, tell me rude and cruel things, and even sleep in the closet. He programmed me for 10 years that no wasn’t an option, that no meant rejection, and the only way to have validation in love was through sex. Making this realization was so huge and it changed everything! There are no words to describe the empowerment of this knowledge. As I experimented with making this mental adjustment in my current relationship, I realized that this was in fact a real thing. When it had been a year and I was still married I was so excited. When I talked with the bishop about restoring my blessings, he told me that my track record with men was so bad that they didn’t feel like a year was long enough. When I asked if I could at least take the sacrament, he told me no. That was the final straw and I quit going to church. Not because I didn’t love God, but because this system created by men failed me. This bishop discounted my personal revelation and said people who sin can’t have that kind of spirit. When he called me to invite me to come back to church, I told him I didn’t think I could and that I was struggling with things about the church. He presumed I wasn’t reading my scriptures and asked me to read the Book of Mormon and to pray about its truthfulness. I told him that was why I wasn’t coming to church, because he assumed that I didn’t read my scriptures because all he could see was the sin.

I have always read, prayed and even started a meditation practice through this process. In fact, now that I don’t go to church my testimony of God is even stronger. My faith in his love is powerful and my conviction stronger.

The things I learned are bishops and stake presidents are not equipped to deal with situations like these, and when they make spiritual judgment calls without all the knowledge they are impacting the situation and making it worse. I understand that their training is limited, but somehow they need to be able to recognize the signs of abuse and direct people in the appropriate direction. They need to reserve judgment until the person struggling understands their own situation. I also learned that most bishops don’t bother to use the Spirit in directing them, because if they did they would have helped me and not just see me as a sex addict. Self worth plays a vital roll in all of this, and having bishops discount your experience and your revelation does not build self worth. Building self worth is probably the most instrumental key to overcoming these types of situations, next to actually understanding the problem.

In closing, I want to reiterate my love for God and His son Jesus Christ, and recognize also my Mother in Heaven. I have learned that the three of them are my family, my greatest strength, and I am full of peace, love and unity because of my relationship with them. They have led me to the state of happiness that I am in and the healing that I have experienced to get me through the atrocities I experienced. You can’t worship one without worshiping the others, and Christ is the gate through which to experience their love. While my experience brought me closer to them, had I been weaker in my faith, it would have driven me away. We can’t allow these kinds of stories to continue, and while we can’t fix it overnight, every step in the right direction counts.

Thank you for listening to my plea, my story, and my testimony.

 

Guest Post: Who Is Our Abuser? #MormonMeToo

[image error]By Lesley Ann

Dear LDS Patriarchy,

I have learned a lot in my personal and professional life regarding trials, triumphs resilience, and holistic well-being. I’ve read the wise words of sociologist, Brene Brown, on shame, vulnerability, authenticity, and courage. I’ve studied the work of abuse expert, Lundy Bancroft, on the characteristics of abusers and the cycle of abuse. I’ve learned about the damaging effects of spiritual abuse and tribal shunning from Christian-based therapist, Shannon Thomas. I’ve discovered the writings of researcher, Bessell Van der Kolk, on interpersonal aspects of psychological trauma. I’ve connected with the vision of social reformer Sister Joan Chittister. I’ve consumed the poems of Emily Dickinson, Sylvia Plath, Mary Oliver, and Rumi, that offer eloquence in pain and expression to healing.

In none of my study, have I ever learned that is it healthy to deny facts, minimize rape, belittle sexual assault, rationalize abuse, enable predators, shame a survivor, and/or placate a population that looks to you for leadership. Nor is it ever acceptable to re-traumatize those who have been affected by abuse.

You have done this, LDS Patriarchy.

The sexual abuse scandal involving former MTC Mission President, Joseph Bishop, has shocked the Mormon community. This last week has been traumatizing for abuse survivors. It has been filled with pain, fury, sadness, heart-ache, disappointment, disbelief, and fury. We have witnessed your attempts to scrub details, to discredit this woman, and to dissociate yourself from the issues of accountability and justice.

You have done this, LDS Patriarchy.

I have held on to hope that surely, my church, this must be a mistake. Surely, my church, you must care about ‘the least of these.’  Surely, my church, you must realize how painful this is for us. Surely, my church, you will fix this when you find out. Surely, my church, will have the utmost integrity in handling this horrific situation.

You haven’t done this, LDS Patriarchy.

My expectation was that a church, that bears the name of Christ and that claims to be the only true and living church, will swiftly right these wrongs. You will assure us you will work tirelessly to address this pervasive issue. You will acknowledge your extensive failings and the unhealthy system that is currently in place. You will provide safety for victims who wish to come forward. You will work for desperately needed cultural change and reform.

You haven’t done this either, LDS Patriarchy.

This week, my hopes in you have faded. Like the notes in the margins of my first set of scriptures. Trauma has re-surfaced. Pain has set in. Profound bewilderment palpable in my waking moments and in my slumber of nightmares. The realization that you KNEW years ago about this abuse and predatory behavior and you did nothing is beyond anything I can comprehend.

You knew. And you did nothing.

I am angry. Call it righteous indignation if this helps. I am being honest. Something I wish you would do.

Don’t villainize my anger. As Sister Joan Chittister beautifully states, “anger is not bad. Anger can be a very positive thing, the things that moves us beyond the acceptance of evil.” Can’t you honor our anger and effect change for good?  Don’t characterize me by my membership status or church activity level. Don’t equate my worth with my willingness to trust, obey, and sustain my church leaders.

I am more than a number. I am more than a victim. I am more than a status. I am not a boxed to be checked or a blip on your radar. Perhaps Brene Brown said it best: “My story matters because I matter. I am absolutely enough.”

Abuse expert, Lundy Bancroft explains, “abusers thrive on creating confusion, including confusion about the abuse itself.” They are also unremorseful, unrepentant, and unempathetic. They tend to tell white lies, misdirect and deflect, have two sets of rules (one for themselves and one for everyone else), will subtly ignore you, have a totalitarian views, require full and unwaivering loyalty, use religious beliefs to perpetuate abuse, have a sense of superiority, can be charismatically charming and operate under benevolence. Their words do not match their actions and they will gaslight and use psychological manipulation as a means of control. They are also extremely concerned about their public perception, instead genuinity, integrity, and authenticity.

This sounds a lot like you, LDS Patriarchy.

You say you have a zero-tolerance policy against abuse.

False.

You say you take reports of abuse seriously.

False.

You say you share our anger and distress.

False. False. False.

I just don’t believe you anymore, LDS Patriarchy.  Not only have you NOT validated your countless victims, but you have not even acknowledged our existence. As Christian therapist Shannon Thomas says, “we are unable to heal from what we cannot, or will not, acknowledge exists.”

Furthermore, you seem to be in severe denial about the very fact that you have victims sitting in the pews of every single one of your congregations and undoubtedly even more that cannot even think of attending church anymore. You try to pretend we don’t exist. But “victims are members of society whose problems represent the memory of suffering, rage, and pain in a world that longs to forget”, Dr. Bessel Van der Kolk explains. You are not just going to be able to forget us, LDS Patriarchy. But I now have no doubt that you will try.

As Rumi says, “every story is us.”

Our stories say something about you, LDS Patriarchy. Have you listened to them?

No.

Please tell me, LDS Patriarchy, where are the women within your patrilineality, paternalism, and male gaze?

Please tell me, LDS Patriarchy, in your system of male dominance, male privilege, male leadership, male decision-making, male control, and male authority, what’s a woman to do….besides what you tell us to?

You see, LDS Patriarchy, in your system:

When we are abused, we have no one to believe us.

When we are hurt, we have no one to help us.

When we are neglected, we have no where to go.

What conclusion am I to reach, other than: The LDS Patriarchy is our abuser.

Slang Terms and Temple Recommends #MormonMeToo

[image error]It was a typical temple recommend interview. I had a previous temple recommend because I went to the temple to do baptisms when I was 12. I was 13 on that spring day when recommends needed to be annually renewed, so I was due for another.

 

My friend’s father was the bishopric member doing the interviews for the young women, I guessed because she was in my class—so it seemed nice that he was doing all of the Beehives. I had known the family ever since I could remember. The interview was on a Wednesday night, in-between whatever regular youth activities were planned.

 

The questions began and were average. But then he went off script. He asked me if I ever did certain sexual things, but he used slang terms with which I was not familiar.  I did not know what those things were. So I asked him. And he told me, rocking back in his chair with his legs spread.  No one had spoken to me about specific sex acts before, and I became frightened as he continued to ask me questions that were nothing like any temple recommend questions I’ve ever had before or since. I still sat through the interview, and finished it because I didn’t want my family to think I wasn’t worthy of a temple recommend.

 

I never wanted to be in a room with him again. I was terrified of him being in the temple doing the baptisms—I didn’t want him to touch me. I didn’t even shake his hand after the recommend interview, and rushed out the door—pretending I was too dumb to know or remember to shake his hand.

 

Luckily, another good man was the one to perform baptisms. But I was still afraid. It was just words—but words that were used when I was alone, and powerless—in a place where I wanted to come out of the room with the token that would show I was worthy.

 

This man tried to “meet” with me for “official church business” a few more times, but I found ways to be too busy or distracted. To my knowledge at that time, he was not meeting with anyone else for these meetings. I was afraid and didn’t know what to do—“maybe if I were ugly, he would leave me alone?” Wanting to be ugly was a strange concept, but I felt ugly on the inside from the things he said to me. How could I be ugly to him, but still acceptable to my friends?

 

Nearly a year later, and I was 14. Because there were only four Mia Maids, we were all in the Mia Maid presidency, and sort of rotated taking turns of who would be president. I was to be a counsellor this time around. And so this man asked me passing in the hallway to be a counsellor, as I never allowed myself to be in a room alone with him.  I said, “Let me pray about it….” And briskly walked away.

 

But I was terrified. I wasn’t familiar enough with church callings to know others would be in the room for me to be “set apart.” All I could imagine was being interviewed by this man for more detailed sex talk, and then him putting his hands on my head… or other parts of my body. Rumours were swirling amongst the young women about certain men and certain young men in the ward. Not the good kids of rumours– the terrifying kinds of rumours of things– things that President Kimball said that we should fight to the death to avoid, lest we become too complaisant in protecting our own virtue.

 

Luckily, I had a friend who was not a Mormon. And this friend had some electric clippers. After an afternoon at her house, my head was shaved on one side, and asymmetrically chopped on the other. Then I added some jet-black stripes on my otherwise mousey blonde mane. I ripped my jeans in certain places, and bought black Rit dye for most of my clothes.  I was no Cyndi Lauper, but I tried. I looked cool. And ugly—at least I hoped I looked ugly to this man.

 

It worked! I wasn’t called in the Mia Maid presidency! And I still had a temple recommend.

 

My mother told me I was wicked–after all, black nail polish doesn’t look pretty. She suspected I was drinking alcohol or smoking weed with my “non-Mormon” friends. I wasn’t. I just looked wicked. [image error] And I was avoiding one of my Mormon friend’s fathers. But to my mother, rejecting a calling just solidified my walk down the dark side. That and the copious black eyeliner I used on my eyes and lips.

 

But when others looked close, they would see embroidery floss knotted and secured with a safety pin on my jeans. And they would see me meticulously weaving friendship bracelets in joyful pastels, and bright rainbows—colours of freshness and light! Bracelets that I shared with my fellow Young Women—tokens of healing and friendship. Because in becoming ugly, and looking the part of darkness, I was protected. I protected myself. Because no one in church was protecting me.

 

Other Young Women in my ward were not clever as I was, even though we began to talk openly about it.  They were traditional Mormon pretty, “not allowed” to dress like me. I never asked if I was allowed. I did it to protect myself.

 

And thus, being Mormon pretty, they were not protected. They were not protected by the friendship bracelets. They were not protected with their temple recommends.

 

And  they were most certainly not protected by the Bishopric.

“A Wish for Zero Tolerance”

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A Wish for Zero Tolerance

We join Lorie Winder Stromberg of Ordain Women in calling for “significant, systemic change in the way abuse is handled in the church.” In a recent OW blog post, she asks us to participate in their postcard- and letter-writing campaign to send the following message (or one of your own choosing) to the church by this General Conference weekend:

 

“Dear Presidents Nelson, Oaks and Eyring,

Given the recent disclosures of sexual abuse and the reported dismissal of victims who come forward, my wish is that you aggressively address the problem of sexual abuse in the church by taking victims’ claims seriously, holding their abusers accountable, establishing systemic guidelines for reporting abuse independent of the male priesthood line of authority, and ceasing to dismiss or cover up instances of abuse involving members and leaders. There should be zero tolerance for such abuse in a church that bears Christ’s name.

Sincerely,

Lorie Winder Stromberg”