Modesty Empowers No One

Growing up, I was taught, like many other young LDS girls, that I had a sacred responsibility to help keep young men's thoughts pure. Because it was difficult for them. And our physical bodies were made by God to be attractive. But that we weren't allowed to use our attraction physically until after marriage. So better to cover up our bodies so as not to entice young men to think impurely of us.

Although the concept of modesty is applied unfairly towards women in general, I must applaud the LDS church in the fact that their standard of decency is applied fairly towards men and women. When I say this, I mean men and women both have to cover up the same general areas (shoulders, chests, knees.....). The fact is simply, men's modesty is virtually ignored and just implied, while female modesty is rehashed over and over and over and over. And LDS women are basically told they are responsible for keeping young men pure, while LDS men are taught to encourage girls to cover up for their carnal benefit.

In more conservative religions, where women have to wear head and or face coverings, loose fitting dresses that go to the neck, wrists and ankles, the standard of modesty is applied in extreme inequality. Where men are able to show their faces and heads, women are not.

This empowers no one.

When a woman is forced, by the doctrine of salvation, to cover herself, she is not making a choice. She is being coerced into submission. She is being taught that her body is inherently sinful, and that to show it is in direct violation of god's commands. Whereas a man is not held to the same standard of modesty. Therefore the doctrine is not empowering for women, but chauvinistic. If the standard was equally applied, and men were also taught to cover their heads and faces, it would no longer be a symbol of chauvinism, or gender inequality. It would merely be a doctrine of modesty.

The biggest problem I have with modesty is not in being covered up. My problem is that it is unequally applied to men and women. Because of this, the female form has been considered taboo for generations. It is considered a temptation, inherently sinful. And women are forced to lose their identity to extreme versions of modesty.

The female body is not deserving of shame. Covering it up for a man's benefit does nothing for the man or the woman. It simply breeds a more lustful and jealous environment. It turns a woman into an object, rather than a person.

Whereas if men and women were covering up equally, these problems of objectification and gender inequality wouldn't exist in terms of modesty.

In western culture, it is less extreme, but standards of modesty are applied unequally. A lingerie model is perfectly acceptable, but a breastfeeding mother is not. A man topless is perfect acceptable, but a female topless is indecent. When a woman is dressed in short shorts and a tank top, she is asking for "the wrong kind" of attention.

Telling women to cover up, or that what they are wearing is what ultimately leads to the wrong kind of attention, including harassment and rape, only perpetuates an ideology that condemns women to second-class citizenship. It asserts that women bear the burden of men's sexuality, and treats them as lesser persons. It shames them for being femininely shaped, which is beautiful and natural, and causes self deprivation and hate. When a woman is sexually assaulted and we say, "well look what she was wearing, she was asking for it", the blame is transferred from the attacker to the victim. That is wrong.

Women and men's bodies are no different. We have created a hyper sexual society with the concept of modesty. And we have successfully ruined hundreds of thousands of women's self perceptions with what is acceptable.

If modesty is going to exist, it needs to be fairly and equally applied to both sexes. Otherwise it is not modesty, but just another component of chauvinism, with men exercising dominion over women.

I Grew Up Color Blind

I grew up color blind.

I didn't see race. My parents never really taught me about race. Of course, I wasn't blind. I could see some people had dark skin, some people had light skin. But I wasn't aware of any difference past that, nor did I see how skin color made any sort of difference.

Alaska is a unique state. Because it is a very expensive and difficult state to travel to, it doesn't represent the typical range of "poor" ethnicities. Generally, people who travel there have means to do so. This isn't to say that Alaska doesn't experience racial discrimination in terms of wealth, it certainly does, but on a much different scale.

I also grew up Mormon, so my church friends were predominately caucasian. But outside of church, much of my friends were Filipino, Alaska Native, Hispanic, Black or from the Pacific Islands. None of my friends were first generation immigrants, most of them were born and raised in Alaska, or another part of the US. The school I attended was very diverse.  My white friends and I sometimes would joke we were the "minority". Statistically, of course we weren't. But I am grateful that I didn't grow up in a "white" community.

Am I grateful I grew up color blind? I thought I was. Like I said, I didn't see color. I didn't see race. I didn't feel anyone was beneath me, I didn't feel I was beneath anyone. I looked at people as people. But that is also because I was ignorant.

While I wasn't outwardly "racist", I lived in a world that was.

When I was 12, I laughed at a joke my friend was telling, and was mistaken for making fun of another girl close by. She thought I was mocking her, and took it upon herself to bully me the rest of the year. She was black. I didn't understand then why I had made her so angry, but I think now I can. I don't excuse her bullying, and I am also grateful I was so naive I didn't understand it. But now, seeing the world in a different light, I can understand her anger.

Race is a social construct. It was created to separate people though prejudice and animosity. And it is also very effective. While I didn't see it growing up, it was happening. People of color are born with a disadvantage. And while, as a woman, I am also born with a disadvantage, it is no where near as severe as some of my friends.

People of color face difficulties in schooling, careers, housing. They face bullying, bigotry, hate, and intolerance. They are misrepresented. They are categorized. All as part of a rigged system to keep rich, straight, white men on top.

Speaking to one of my friends about it, she told me how upset she was finally seeing how Hispanics are portrayed in TV and film. As the maid, housekeeper, thickly accented, trashy. I had never actually seen Hispanic people, who ignorant people call "Mexican's" or "illegal aliens". People from Latin America who were first and second generation immigrants living modestly or downright poorly in order to survive and make a living. My mom's best friend was Guatemalan. She was an executive at the bank. My friend's mom was a counselor at the university in town. So due to my limited experience, those things were just stories on the TV.

In middle school there was a boy who sat behind me in Spanish class, who used to kick my chair and pull my braids. We're friends on Facebook now, all the silly adolescence behind us, but I find myself shocked. He is a person of color, black, and very much proactive in speaking about racism. I amazed at how ignorant his friends are. How they dismiss what he says, how they justify it, or say he is just bitter and angry. How they question his right to talk about it when he didn't grow up in the ghetto, he grew up with white boys.

It makes me so sad to read those things. Moving to the lower 48, I experienced racism for the first time. My very first college roommate was Black. not African American, and she reminded us anytime we needed it. She was from Bulgaria, and hated being called African American. I learned a lot from her, about how American's see race.

My husband took a course in racism, and tried to explain to me how I was inherently racist. I told him he was crazy, so he directed me to a Harvard test to see just how racist I was. I said I'd take it. And as it turned out, I scored neutral, with no obvious preference to white or black individuals. That was my Alaska upbringing.

I was still disturbed by the questions. I remember one being about a black person's work ethic. It asked if I thought they were inherently lazy. Or overall not motivated to work hard. I said of course not. There was a question about seating, would I sit next to a black person on a bus. I said of course I would. Would I look a black person in the eye. Of course!

The questions were so bizarre to me. Black people aren't lazy. And why wouldn't I look them in the eye? They are people! Just like me! They are just people!

I had no idea there are white's out there who think this way of people of color. That they are lazy, or that they can't sit next to them, or that they avoid eye contact.

And because I didn't know about it, I couldn't do anything to stop it. Being color blind is part of the problem, because it ignores the fact that racial inequalities exist. You can't just turn a blind eye to race, because that ignores racism. And if you ignore it, you can't change it. So while I am grateful  that I grew up viewing everyone equal, I'm now glad I understand they actually aren't. Because I don't view my friends differently, but I understand that as a white person, I have more opportunities than they do, and that is wrong. There aren't the horrible stigmas and stereotypes against me.

This came very easily to me, understanding racism, and I think it's because I'm a woman. So I also have disadvantages. And I gave birth to two boys who started life at the front of the race. I just hope that their generation will be smarter than mine, and will work towards a future where color blind is a term that no longer exists.

I Hate Being an Atheist

I hate being an atheist. I've found myself in a very lonely place. The people I used to think were my friends aren't really. I grew up inside of a bubble, where everyone believed the same thing. And we would whisper in hushed tones about those who had the gaul to kick against the pricks. I'm one of those people now. And I've found that I've lost a lot of my friends because of it. I'm still the same person, but something about me has become so off putting to the faithful that they avoid interactions with me.

I hate being an atheist. I've often wondered what it would be like to believe again. I still wish and hope for an afterlife. I hate the idea of the one I grew up learning about, particularly because it is so unkind to women, and I'm not fond of the LDS god either. If there was a god, he or she would be kind and loving to everyone. And would understand my reasons for not having faith. The problem is, while I wish there was an afterlife, everything I have learned keeps me from believing in one. It's just not probable. And while I also wish I could believe in it, being an atheist is like riding a bike. You just can't forget. You just can't unlearn. You just can't not understand.

I understand now why so many people cling to religion. It's a sense of security, a hope for retribution. Everything done wrong to you will be made right. And you will not be sad.  And you won't hurt. I can't tell you how many times I'd thought about death, and finally being able to eat normally again. I made a list of the foods I would try first with my celestialized body, including Cinnamon Toast Crunch and Lasagna. But the price tag for this bliss is a steep one, with so many willing to sacrifice their humanity for it, with no guarantees or proof it will actually happen. They just have "faith" because someone told them if they had faith it would come to pass. They were told to pray, and told what they would feel if they prayed, and what that feeling would mean. And when they felt that warm fuzzy feeling they were told they would feel, the confirmation bias was just too strong to deny. It had to be true.

It would be so nice to have faith again. To forget everything I have discovered and live in that blissful world where god will punish the people who hurt me. It would be lovely to unlearn all of the terrible history of the founder of the Mormon Faith, to put aside my humanity and lovingly hate the sinners and apostates. To let myself be led around by the nose, and never have to think for myself again. Tell me what to eat, tell me what to drink, tell me what to wear, tell me when to shop, when to sleep, when to pray, when to bear testimony of how grateful I am there is a prophet to tell me how to live my life. If only it were that easy.

But I can't. I've tried. And then I remember everything that brought me to where I am. All of the struggles, all of the thoughts, all of the realizations that brought me to tears. All of the doubts that had been boring holes in my brain since my teenage years that could no longer be contained by the dam of my faith.

And I finally let go. Living in that fairy tale world was nice, but it was also wrong. I hated people I didn't know, because they were sinners. I judged stations without proper context. I found purpose in suffering, saying it was gods way of humbling someone, or gods way of refining someone. I actually would joy in a person's trials, because it was god's love. How horrible is that? To project my own insecurities about life and death onto someone else's suffering as though it didn't actually matter? To belittle someone's experience because hey, someone said a man suffered and died for it 2000 years ago. Makes perfect sense, right? To tell someone dying of cancer, god must really love you, and he knew you could handle this trial. And he knew your children could benefit from your suffering and death too. How great is god!

Being a person of faith ignores the realities and complexities of the world we live in. It divides people, rather than brings them together. It preys upon the anxieties and fears of life ending. And it monetarily gains from people's ignorance. I know life isn't fair, but my goodness, if there is a hell it will be filled with saints, not sinners. Anytime I see the suffering of a loved one, and hear people praise their faith and strength in god testing them, I just want to throw up. And when a blessing is given and they are promised through their faith they will be healed, the burden is removed from the unseen god and placed on their shoulders, ultimately leading them to believe their faith wasn't sufficient enough when they are not healed. Or the kinder version, god had a different plan for me.

And so I hate being an atheist. Anyone who thinks its an easy life is stupid. STUPID. The reality we live in is a dark, and difficult one. Life is not kind. It has no inherent meaning. But we can ignore that, and pray for it to change or we can make the best of it. I for one choose to do so by fighting for the things I am passionate about. I find meaning being an LGBTQ ally. I finding purpose in standing up against chauvinism and exposing male privilege. I like to discuss the inherent racism of our society so my friends of color will have the same opportunities as I do. I take pictures because i realize that some day that will be all someone has left, and that is important.

But please, do not hastily think I am a woman of the world who enjoys binge drinking, wearing slutty clothes, eating babies and having sex with anyone I can get my hands on. Being an atheist does not turn a person into a nonhuman animal. But is does help me to see the world as it truly is. And I can tell you one thing, it is a disgusting place where saints pray and children starve.

Why do you believe in God?

I believe in God.

Why do you believe in God?

Because I've felt it in my heart.

What have you felt?

I've felt his spirit, and his love.

How do you know it this is God?

Because I believe it is.

Why do you believe it is?

Because it makes me happy.

Why do you believe it is God making you happy?

Because I feel it is true.

Why do you feel it is true?

I was taught to pray to know if it is true, and I prayed and felt it.

What did you feel?

I felt peace.

Why does peace mean it is true?

Because peace comes from God.

How do you know peace comes from God?

Because I was taught that all things good come from God, and he will give us peace if we pray to know he is  there.

Who taught you all things good come from God? And who taught you to pray to him?

My parents.

Who taught them?

The missionaries, who were sent by the prophet to teach God's word.

Where did the missionaries learn?

Probably from their parents.

And where did their parents learn?

I see what you are getting at. Not only do they learn from their parents, but from reading scriptures and praying to know if it is true.

Where do scriptures come from?

From God.

So God wrote scriptures?

Yes, through his prophets.

How did they know they were writing what God wanted?

They felt his spirit and were prompted, and received revelations.

How do you know those revelations were real, and not just hallucinations?

Because I feel they are true, I've prayed about it. And they bring peace and joy into my life as I read them and live by their teachings.

So you pray to know if what you are praying about is true?

Yes.

But you pray to know what you are praying about. How does that work?

Because if you pray with faith, God will reveal himself.

What God?

Why, the one and only God.

How do you know he exists?

Because I have felt his spirit at I pray, I've told you this.

How do you know what you are feeling means there is a God?

Because I was taught this, and I've felt it as I practiced it. The prophets and my parents and my leaders have all taught me that I would feel God's spirit as I prayed, and I have.

Where did they learn to pray?

From those who came before them. For instance, Joseph Smith saw God and Jesus Christ, and he taught his followers about them. And what it feels like to pray to them.

How do you know he saw God?

Because he said he did, and I prayed to know if it was true.

And you felt it was true?

Yes, I felt it was true.

How do you know what you are feeling is real?

I just know. I can only base what I know on what I feel and what I was taught.

So you were taught to pray, and you were taught what you would feel if you prayed, and you were taught that that feeling meant God existed.

Yes. *pause*

You were taught what you would feel and how to interpret that feeling.

*pause*

Based on someone saying they saw God somewhere along the lines.

*pause*

You pray to know if what you are praying about is real. You pray to God, who you cannot see, to know if he exists. That is like whispering in an egg to ask the Easter Bunny if he is real, and then getting a warm fuzzy feeling and saying that is proof the Easter Bunny does in fact exist.

But we know the Easter Bunny is just a story, this is God, the creator we are talking about.

How do you know he is the creator?

*sigh* Because it is what I have been taught.

And you prayed about it?

Yes.....

And you felt it was true?

....yes......

Because someone told you if you prayed and got a warm feeling that meant it was true?

*pause*  Yes......

I'm sorry, but I'm really struggling to understand how this is escaping you. Let me try another example, I went to see Harry Potter in the theater. I felt chills, goose bumps, excitement, happiness. The same exact things I felt during a heartfelt moment in church. Can I conclude Harry Potter is real from this experience?

No.

Why not?

Because we know for a fact that Harry Potter was made up.

Perhaps he's not, perhaps it is actually Harry speaking through J.K. Rowling the prophet, and Harry Potter is scripture. And everyone who doesn't believe in him will go to hell.

That is ridiculous.

What if I told you I prayed about it? And got that confirmation you were explaining about?

I wouldn't believe you.

Why not?

Because you have no proof, and Harry Potter is clearly fiction.

 I have no proof?

No.

Can you provide me proof of your God?

Yes, I can.

Then please, by all means.

I have proof in his creations. In the way I feel when I pray. In---

Okay, I thought we had gotten past that. Feeling something is true, does not make it true. Assigning meaning to things does not indicate a God.

But it is all the proof I have, what I have felt in my heart.

Because someone told you that you would feel that way if you prayed.

Yes.....

And someone told them, and someone told them, and someone told them. And back and back, like Jonas in The Giver. While someone gets rich off of people like you praying and paying them to keep telling you to pray. It's a vicious cycle of I believe because I believe because I believe because I believe. I believe because I have felt it because it is true, because I believe it is true. And around and around and around.

But I felt it was true. I really felt his spirit.

A feeling is not a measurement of truth. A feeling merely indicates a state of being. Feeling it will rain will not make it rain. Feeling it is rainy on a sunny day does not make it rainy. The problem is people feel it is rainy on rainy days and take that as a confirmation of their feelings. When merely, it is a coincidence. If God truly existed he would answer prayers, yes?

Yes, and he does--

Then explain to me, we are in a room. There is a priest and a boy. The priest begins to rape the boy. The priest is praying to not get caught. The boy is praying for it to stop. It seems god favors the priest when the deed is done and no one knows. God did not answer the boys prayer, does god exist?

Yes.

Why?

God can't answer every prayer, and he cannot stop people from doing bad things.

Why not?

Because that would interfere with agency, and God knows what is best.

So rape was best for that boy?

Of course not!

Then why didn't god stop it? The boy prayed.

Because he couldn't stop that man's agency.

But the scriptures are full of God stopping people's agency.

In extreme cases, God will step in---

Who determines that?

God does.

God is supposedly omniscient and omnipotent. If he is all knowing, he knows what we will do. If he is all powerful, he can stop anything. Tell me then, how can anyone possibly have agency?

Because they can still do what every they want.

And God will punish or reward them for what they do, based on rules that he made up?

No, I believe God is bound by eternal laws.

Like, thou shalt not kill?

Exactly.

So, God is going to be punished for killing all of the men, women and children of the Canaanites?

No.

Why not, isn't killing against an eternal law?

Well, all life is in God's hands.

So it isn't eternally wrong to kill.

Not if you are God.

So God is absolved from consequence of actions he says are bad?

Bad for us.

You sure make a lot of allowances for your God.

Look, all I can say is Ii've prayed and felt it was true.

Which God did you pray to?

The one and only God, God the Father.

What if you are wrong? What if Odin is the one true God?

Well I don't think that he is...

Why?

Because I just don't, Odin is mythology.

Why isn't your God?

Because he isn't.

Why?

Because I believe he isn't.

Because you prayed.

Yes.

Like you were taught to do.

Yes. Look, I'd rather be safe than sorry.

So you'll base your life on an assumption that you might be right? Just in case? And you will be perfectly okay looking down on everyone who doesn't agree with you, and deny yourself living because someone 200 years ago said they saw God when they prayed??

Yes.

More power to you my friend. I'll just take my leave and let you to your crazy. Don't forget to pray about what you are praying about before you pray to the god you are praying to know exists before you pray tonight.

Something Didn't Seem Right

It sure looks happy on the outside, but on the inside, Mormonism is a very dark place.

I graduated with a degree in Medical Assisting from BYU-Idaho, so I could quickly get a job to support a husband while he finished school. And then I would quit once he finished to be the good stay at home mommy. Little did I know that that degree would give me a graphic inside view into the world of Mormonism beyond testimony meeting on Sunday.

Out of respect for people, I will not include any names.

Before I graduated, I would work seasonally at a hotel. I don't remember the content of the conversation, but my boss laughed at me one day and said, "oh baby girl you are so sheltered!". She was right, I was very sheltered. I saw everything around me through the lens of the church. I wasn't aware of most of the things of the world, I had a limited vocabulary, my understanding of social customs was deplorable. I lived and breathed the church. And working at that hotel was my very first glimpse into the world. It was eye opening, but not nearly as much as my later employment would be.

Sure, I saw drunk people throw up on our door matts, and had disturbing conversations with lonely patrons in the middle of the night, but they were just sad people lost in the dark world. I had the light of the gospel, and I pitied them.

My internship was at a pediatric office. I worked the front desk and I worked as an MA. My mentor, a squat little woman with a huge personality liked to tease me for being Mormon. This was in Idaho, mind you. She worked on me day in and day out trying to convince me I was crazy, and even tried to help me understand how porn was appropriate material for marriage. I remember being disgusted and just blown away that a woman would  be telling me these things.

Soon after, I moved myself and my two cats to Utah. Where I lived with my sister and my friend Emma. We spent every day job and house hunting. I remember I would get up in the morning, dress up, and with a stack of resumes go door to door begging for a job. Finally, I found both. A cute little apartment for me and Emma, and a job at a doctor's office. It was amazing, and I loved it. Because virtually everyone I worked with, and nearly everyone who came through the door, was Mormon. It was a Mormon girl's paradise. Everyone thought like me. No one thought I was crazy. Life was good.

But, as I became more and more familiar with patients, I began to notice something. Happy Valley, wasn't actually happy. In fact, nearly 80% of anyone to walk through the door was overweight or obese. I was shocked also to see that an incredibly startling percentage of patients were on antidepressants, or antipsychotics, or narcotics. I was disturbed by the number of suicidal youths and adults. The amount of crazed addicts. But what was most uncomfortable, was when I saw them in the temple. Because I knew that behind those smiling faces, was a depressed soul.

I struggled with this for a long time. It never occurred to me that people in the gospel could be so sad. The statistics indicate that Utah leads, or is among the leading states, in suicides, prescription drug dependance and abuse, and obesity. These people, who have the Word of Wisdom as a code to live by, were floundering.

And that bothered me. I began to be bitter. When a fit woman who ran marathons would come to be seen, I would ask the normal questions of alcohol and cigarette use. And when she said yes to wine or coffee, I would wonder, now why is she being kept out of the temple but the 320 lb patient on Lortab isn't? It truly bothered me. I didn't understand it. Coffee kept you from the temple, but Percocet abuse didn't. Prescriptions were okay. Because they came from a doctor. Processed foods, fast foods, narcotics, no exercise, those were all just fine in the eyes of the lord.

It started to occur to me that the gospel didn't make people happy, it actually made them depressed. It filled their heads with guilt and visions of perfection they could never meet, and at the same time forbade them from accepted coping mechanisms like alcohol. And so they turned to prescriptions, and to bad food. Becoming fat and tranquilized. And still weeping over the pulpit during fast and testimony meetings about how wonderful the gospel was.

For my husband and myself, we tried to live as best we could, feeling the hopeless guilt of never measuring up, and struggling with the confusion of paradoxical doctrines, like the word of wisdom.

Having now left, all reservations about learning about the church have left me. And I realize many things I never actually understood while I was a member, like how in the word of wisdom it is recommended to use wine for sacraments and even gives instructions on how to prepare it. Or how it says to make mild drinks from barley and other plants, which is how you make beer. It also never mentions coffee or tea, but those are widely accepted as things that keep members from temple worship. It says to eat meat sparingly, and not out of season, and yet nearly every Mormon I know is fond of stakes, burgers, and tenderloins. Chicken and turkey, hot dogs, meatloaf, roasts, bar-b-ques. I mean, really?? Sparingly eat meat, but if you don't, its okay, you can still come to the temple. But if you drink a coffee, not even mentioned in said doctrine, shame on you.

As I found myself phasing out of the church, it was the one thing that I really struggled with as well. My husband has little reservations about trying things, and I ascribe it to not being raised Mormon. Every time he would ask me to try his coffee, I'd say, "stop tempting me Satan!". Even though I didn't believe any of it, it was still so engrained in me that coffee, tea and alcohol were bad. I happily ate my meat, but coffee still made me uncomfortable. Thankfully McDonalds and Ghiredelli helped me overcome the fear with lovely mochas, and StarBucks has become my coffee Lover. Seriously, I look forward to my cinnamon coffee every morning, poor old addicted me ;) But when I realized I couldn't go a day without milk, that I began to get sweats when I couldn't find any Boosts in the house, or that I was incredibly grumpy without brownies, my coffee "addiction" didn't seem so bad. After all, I have been drinking instant breakfast every day for the last 15 years. Some might consider that an extreme addiction as well, especially because I crave it.

My conclusion is that so many things from the original Mormon church have been twisted and changed for the purpose of control. To keep the members feeling out of touch, or above the rest of the world, in an effort to keep them secluded and easier to maintain. It's so wrong. And it's heartbreaking. Especially when I think of the woman who attempted to commit suicide in the parking lot before I came to work. The church hurts so many people, but you'd never know because they are commanded to endure to the end and put their shoulder to the wheel with a smile on their face and a song in their heart. And apparently lortab in their mouth. But not coffee. Never coffee.

Unvalidated

I've been asked before why I bother with the church anymore if I don't believe it. Why can't I just leave it alone? You know, I've asked myself the same thing.

Every first weekend in April and October marks General Conference for the faithful, and the not so faithful who have to read the explosion of pre-made memes from the different talks. So this past weekend, I got my phone out and scrolled through #ldsconf updates and trending. Didn't really feel like boring myself to tears watching the actual thing, but I was curious to see what was talked about, or if they addressed at all their most recent insanities (ostracizing gays, forbidding medical marijuana,  and condoning religious hate, excuse me I mean religion freedom bills).

Of course, in nonspecific, round about ways they pacified the members into submission once again. Patted the women on the head, told men all children deserved the influence of a father, lamented with parents of apostate children, said if it didn't come from a prophet it didn't come from god (shame on you Google!), and that choosing the church was harder than leaving.

I loved the bit about everyone having a Sal in their life with Paul potential. That one really made me laugh, because I immediately thought of my husband and myself kicking against the pricks so readily. And then my personal favorite, and terribly photoshopped depiction of two children running from a T-Rex to symbolize us running from tomorrow. I'm sorry, but when you are a professional photographer and editing is your business, you can't help but shake your head when a multibillion dollar organization can't afford a decent designer to prepare their graphics. It was terrible.

There were quotes about indoctrinating children, disguised with pretty pictures and flowing words. Talks about staying temple worthy to keep members paying their tithing and reimbursing themselves in the deluded doctrine on a monthly basis. Talks about how fathers are irreplaceable, which is funny because it's usually mothers they go on about, but it invalidates homosexual parents all the same. Threats of the world to come, but assurance that all you need to do is try and you'll be fine. Be obedience, be submissive, be heterosexual. Ugh its so terrible.

The whole time I was checking up on people's ridiculous trending posts, covered in gobs of sticky gushing I love our prophet, I couldn't help but giggle to myself about one particular fact: they were speaking in the Great and Spacious Building.

For those of you unfamiliar, there is a story in 1st Nephi of the Book of Mormon popularly known as Lehi's dream. (1 Nephi 8) Nephi's dad has a dream, and so Nephi wants to see it to. He describes a rod of iron with people walking along it towards a tree lit up with magical fruit. To the side are traps like a river, mists and a huge building with all sorts of mocking folk. This building is large, with tons of people, all dressed nicely and making fun of anyone not in the building.

Hmm........ sorry, but the irony is just pathetic. The conference center is enormous! It cost millions of dollars to construct. It was full to the brim with people dressed in their Sunday best, all listening to the leaders "mock" those who had left or those who were on the outside. I mean seriously, the love to talk about "apostates". Warn about the dangers of associating with us, and how sad we actually are, and how they mourn with the parents who's children have gone astray. While they take money from the poor to build mega malls and shame anyone who isn't living perfectly.

Another bizarre thing? They play the victim card over and over again. Calling for love and tolerance while not accepting other opinions or viewpoints. If you say something "disrespectful or mocking" of their belief, they call for respect. But if you try to  tell them something religious they have said offends you, it isn't valid because they have the truth and they know you are wrong. So the offense taken at their belief isn't valid. Its an insane double standard. I've been approached by several friends, w ho have since blocked me, being asked to stop posting "anti-mormon" things, or to stop making fun of their beliefs. I'm not terrible, I am passionate, but not usually rude. I typically only post things that I think will make people reconsider their beliefs, but not blatantly make fun of it. Still, at the same time, when I see members post memes that invalidate real lifestyles, or devalue other religions, or say Christ is the only thing that matters, I do take offense. Its offensive. But they don't understand why, because they "know" it is true. It ends up being a big problem, because there isn't really a nice way to explain it without further offending them. Mormons are so deeply indoctrinated its like talking to a three year old who has no concept that Santa Claus couldn't possibly be real. They have no frame of reference, they simply cannot imagine a life where he doesn't exist.

Mormons are the same way. They cannot imagine a world where god doesn't exist, and they are taught that it is supremely true above all other ways of thinking. They will defend their religion to a fault, even if it means trampling over everyone else, including loved ones. Because nothing is more important in their minds that good temple attendance and prayer. Nothing brings more happiness that attending their meetings and spreading their propaganda door to door.

I wish that there would have been enough opposing voices this conference that someone would have stopped the talks to answer questions. The members deserve to know what kind of a church they belong to, and it's about time the leadership was put on the spot to answer the difficult questions. Without premeditated pacifying replies. To actually answer the questions everyone has been asking, and not say, you might hear what you need in my talk that I made without you in mind. Without the copout of, be faithful and god will answer you. No, its time they actually answered the questions of "Why was Joseph Smith married to children? Why was Emma threatened with damnation for not accepting it? Why were there multiple versions of the first vision? Why are women eternally second class citizens? Why did the Joseph translate out of a hat, when we had always been taught he translated from the plates? Why did Nephi slay Laban? Why did god murder countless innocent babies? How the hell can free agency possibly exist when god is omniscient?"

There needs to be a real dialogue. Someone needs to start it. I'm sick of all the platitudes and excuses and deceit. I hate that people I love are being played for fools by a bunch of chauvinistic white homophobes! Who cry at the drop of a hat to show you their sincerity. But secretly stash away billions in a secret vault and invest in stocks like Burger King and send unknowing youth to their deaths all in the name of an invisible god who may or may not reveal himself.

Ugh, I'm just so repulsed I can't stand it.