On Resigning: My Thoughts on Leaving Mormonism on Easter

Originally posted on reddit, (not sure why I'm linking it, since it's the exact same content) after I resigned last April. Now I'm finally more ready to be more public/upfront about it.

I chose to resign from the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints on April 1, 2018. Easter, a day to celebrate rebirth. A holy day the Christians appropriated from the Pagans. It seemed fitting. To exit from Christianity, take a day they view as sacred, and perform the sacrilege of saying "I quit," on the day they celebrate a man dying and coming back from the dead. There's some symbolism in the baptism about that very thing, and today is my reverse baptism I suppose.

I spent about 30 years of my life as a believing Mormon, and 5 years as an unbelieving Mormon. When I had my faith transition, when I stopped believing, I stayed in the church for various reasons. One being my understanding that they count you as a member anyway when they try to brag about their membership numbers, so what would be the point of resigning? I stayed partially due to my hope and fear that I was wrong; that I would rediscover the faith is led by God and I had been deceived. I stayed based on my theory that if I'm on the membership records they still have to deal with me and answer to me, even if it makes them uncomfortable. I stayed because I was afraid that leaving would break my grandparents’ hearts that their grandchild rejected the faith they so lovingly taught and instilled in him. And I stayed because I felt that if I were to resign, it would mean that my membership meant something/had some value in the first place, which, for the last few years, it hasn’t.

Whether they count me as a member or not once I resign, I won't count myself as a member. I feel it's a natural progression in my development of my faith transition/awakening. I no longer fear or even hope that this church is the true church of Jesus Christ. It's a business and a racket, with very little difference to any other corporation or religion, except it's the only one I once believed was more than it is. I no longer believe the theory that the leadership of Mormonism answer to me or have to deal with me. I'm confident they don't care about the one lost sheep, and my leaving won't make a ripple in any of the Mormon leadership's concern. I'm just an angry apostate who wasn't active or paying tithing anyway. I do fear hurting my grandparents, my parents, or any other loved one's feelings. But I need to live my life for me, not for them. Frankly I'd also like to test what I've been taught about those who leave and see if there are any significant changes, any dimming of the light, since apparently, I no longer have the gift of the Holy Ghost. My guess is I'll still have intuition and be nervous of danger, still have morals and compassion, but I suppose I'll find out.

I'm choosing to resign now because in addition to all the above reasons, I believe that if there is an omniscient and overall "good" deity who judges us, I stand more in danger of judgment if I stay in a faith that protects abusers and gaslights, shames, manipulates, and lies to its members, than I would if I say enough is enough and apostatize. (One of my new favorite words, "apostate," means escaped slave. Which is how I often feel).

I went to quitmormon.com and requested to have my membership records removed, thereby revoking my priesthood, my temple marriage, and the gift of the holy ghost. (Things I now feel are imaginary.) As I resigned, I expected to feel liberated, feel excited. But all I felt was numbness. The religion I once loved has devolved into an abomination of guilt, lucre, and lies. Or maybe it's always been that way, I just was blinded to it. If anything, I'm a bit saddened it took me this long.

Now that I've completely exited the cave/crossed the fence, I look forward to my future, and ponder how much I will, or should look to my past. The word "anti-Mormon" comes to mind.

Should I begin actively fighting against the faith? On one hand, I want my family and loved ones to see it for the manipulative money stealing guilt farm it is, a magic feather that dilutes their self-worth and sells them the lie that they can't be good or reach their full potential without their God and by extension the church. But I still feel that anything I would say, however well-intentioned and however true, my efforts would likely have the opposite effect. The members of the church whom I love would more likely entrench their heads in the sand and alienate themselves from me. Why is the desire to (in my mind, admittedly) help educate Mormons be “anti”?

Rather than confront, I'll continue watching and reading Atheist debates, preparing to defend my position and attack their beliefs in the discussions that will never happen, and in the conversations I'll never have.

I don't think I'll be the enemy of Mormons or Mormonism. It's a weird feeling to have. To hate the religion but love the religious. I love the Mormon people and want them to be free of it. I want them liberated because I view the church as corrupt and hindering to mental and emotional health. But any action I can think of to help them emancipate themselves from it would only be seen in an antagonistic light. Kicking against the pricks, leaving the church but not leaving it alone, or the narrative that I'm miserable and therefore I want to drag them down with me ("misery loves company").

I suffer from Major Depressive Disorder, and I'll say, in the times I felt the most down and the most miserable, are the times I've wanted others to feel how I felt the very least. One reason I wanted to kill myself was because I didn't want to feel so miserable, and how I didn't want to be a source of misery to others. If misery loves company, it worships solitude, feeds on it. In fact, I'm starting to think the belief of ‘misery loving company’ is just another tactic that those in power utilize to keep their underlings obedient and distrusting of outsiders. If we defectors tell them we've jumped or fallen out of the boat only to discover the water is warm, shallow, perfectly safe, and even fun, they'll just tell themselves we want them to be miserable and/or we want to drag them into the unsafe water with us.

Originally I just tried putting a toe in the water, see how it felt. In the words of Carl Sagan (speaking of space travel but I think it's relevant): "we've waded a little way out, maybe ankle-deep, and the water seems inviting." Now I take the plunge, severing myself from their records. Free, yet admittedly still surrounded by Mormonism's influence, both as a resident of Utah, and as a member of families very much believing in the truth claims of Mormonism. Turning my back on what was an integral part of my identity because I've outgrown it, yet still entrenched and unsure if I'll ever be free of it. Here I am. A former Mormon still a bit in the dark if I'm walking into or away from the light. But eager to find out.