Bad Mormon: A Memoir

by Heather Gay

I didn’t even know that we were religious. I just thought that we were better than everyone else.

It can be a hit to the ego when you realize that a bunch of older church leaders have better gaydar than you do.

Most of the men and women in the wards we served in had only been to the temple once or twice in their lives. The nearest temple was in Bern, Switzerland, which prevented even the most valiant members from attending

For so long, I’d been caught up in this holding pattern, living single in search of the next step: a man. And here he was. The fact that I kinda hated him and he kinda hated me was small potatoes.

Out of all the people there, I craved his validation the most, and hoped that seeing all my effort would somehow change his heart.

just like my pioneer ancestors, was trying to blaze a new trail.

I didn’t want him to think I was getting divorced because I was a bitch.

I had never meant to cut the holes in the curtain. But now that they were there, the holes made it easier for the cameras to see the sacred secrets hidden behind the veil.