Bad Mormon: A Memoir

by Heather Gay

I did puzzles, and I went to the Marriott timeshare clubhouse to find books to read and old magazines to thumb through. I found ways to remind myself of who I was and what I loved doing, trying desperately not to think about the fact that I was alone on Scary Island with no friends.

When I learned some of the truths about Joseph Smith, I wanted to shout, “But he hasn’t got anything on! He’s just taken bits and pieces from his favorite scriptures and jumbled them on the page.”

I don’t want to be associated with a church that has a racist past or homophobic doctrine or doesn’t believe women are equal to men.