Yesterday I cleaned out my closet. Apparently it's been awhile since it was thoroughly cleaned. I found five bags of that lovely, long, white underwear that I stopped wearing almost two years ago. Some of them were maternity and nursing garments. My baby is 16. As I cleansed and purged I put all those bags in the trash. Not a qualm, not a second thought, not a twitch of the eyelid. Apparently I've been able to purge my brain of many of those ideas I no longer believe in.
Later that afternoon I stood outside talking to a friend wearing a tank top and capris. (I was wearing the tank, not my friend.) A scouting acitivity was going on in the church across the street. There stood the current and former Relief Society presidents. The bishop drove by and then his wife walked past and stopped to talk to my friend about uncoming scouting activities. I guess it's all out in the open now. They all got a close up view of Zena's white shoulders in all their uncovered glory.
The only feeling I still have is a touch of bitterness for the 18 years I spent serving in every possible calling in that ward. I had every one of those scouts in that parking lot in my nursery classes. Years of my life were spent in that church building with those people. And it all means nothing to them. Other families have moved in to the ward and have seamlessly filled that space that I left. I'm sure I'll get over this feeling too, though. I've found other things and people to replace them with as well. Life goes on and mine is taking a turn for the better.
I know, but at least you're out now. Some of those people "filling your space" would love to be you, but are too afraid.
ReplyDeleteWhat is it with Mormons and long-term memory? They just forget what meaningful relationships they've had with people in a heartbeat, drop 'em like a bag of hammers if they leave the church. WTF? Or is it that they never really bond with people because they're afraid of getting too close and revealing their true selves?
ReplyDeleteI had the pleasure (seriously) of having dinner with some former members of my former ward a couple of nights ago. You know I'm part of a military family, so members of my old ward moved in and out all of the time. Inevitably, if you stay in the area long enough, as my family has (8+ years) you end up running into the same people again. These friends were from my super mormon days. Thankfully, these folks have either read my blogs or kept up with me on Facebook and know about my apostate ways. Just to be sure, I wore a strappy sundress just in case there was any confusion about my non-churchness. It was kinda like a huge elephant sitting on my bare shoulders except not really because they already knew the deal.
ReplyDeleteI had a great time and was sad to have to leave early. The thing I realized was that I love my old Mormon friends. The lady that hosted the get-together still had a refrigerator magnet from when I was her visiting teacher 7 or more years ago. She remembered things about me that I had forgotten about myself. I guess maybe she is an exception or I just made a big impact on her life. I don't know.
I have fun hanging out with Mormons in non-church settings. Maybe I'm weird. Maybe they're the weird ones. Maybe I'm just lucky enough to attract the kind of Mormons that can handle my differentness. Well, most of them can take it.
It is their problem and not yours. I know you know that. I've been saying it for years now. But it was one thing for me to understand it was their problem sort of as an abstract idea, and a whole 'nother thing to *really* get it so I could give myself permission to move on.
ReplyDeleteThat's what it comes down to IMO, you as the good and kind and wonderful person you are giving yourself permission to let them go ... realizing you're not being mean or hateful, you simply cannot change them. It's hard to comprehend their behavior because that's just not how normal relationships are supposed to be. That is how cult members act.
Marianne's Mormon friends sound like wonderful exceptions. I believe that once one gets out of the "Morridor" in Utah the chances of meeting Mormons who are also normal and lovely people goes up significantly.