xogsmommy

Thoughts and musings of a mom of three.

Tuesday, April 25, 2006

Of Pride and Prejudice

One of the insidious facets of the Mormon Church is the pride of the members. They are taught that they are God's elect people, saved and chosen for these last days before Christ returns to earth. There is extreme pride that goes along with that. "We" are chosen, "We" are God's elect, ie: "We" are better than the rest of the human population.

Children don't like to feel different from their peers. This is difficult for children growing up in an area with a low Mormon population. I lived in Utah from the time I was one until I was nine. I again lived there for a year when I was fourteen. Utah is a different country. There is a herd mentality. The church itself has said that when the "Prophet" (the head of the church) speaks, all thinking has been done. So to then live in Pennsylvania, where the Mormon population is low, was difficult.

Adding to that difficulty is the inherent superiority complex taught by the church. Top it off with the sexism and racism of the church, and living outside of Utah is a nightmare. Church members are discouraged from associating with non-members. So what to do when you know larger numbers of non-members? You end up lonely, and estranged from both.

Along with the superiority complex comes the judgements. I was raised by a courageous single mother. Since the church teaches "eternal" marriages are required for salvation, what then of us? Well, the wonderful church has an answer: polygamy. In order to obtain the highest eschelon of heaven, which the Mormons call the Celestial Kingdom, men will have more than one wife. So my wonderful mother was to be relegated to second or twelfth wife? Why do women need a man to obtain salvation in the first place? Why was my mother second rate without a husband?

I'm sorry this was a bit disjointed, I'm more thinking outloud. And I'm angry. I spent my life in this cult that calls itself a church and I feel that I will struggle with this brainwashing for the rest of my life. After years of being inactive I tried to go back. I studied the Book of Mormon, I met with the missionaries, and I attended church meetings regularly. I was still shunned, as I had committed the cardinal sin of marrying a non-member. The efforts of friendshipping me and bringing me back to the fold actually centered on fellowshipping my husband in the hopes that he would join the church. Because having a penis is of uber importance. More important than simply being a human being with needs. Thanks to growing up with the brainwashing of the cult, somewhere in the back of my head there is this voice that whispers, "Without a man, you are nothing."

Sunday, April 23, 2006

girls' camp experiences

i was reading on a message board for exmormons and there was a post about girls' camp. about how the "spiritual activities" are really manipulations. the board isn't accepting any new posts and i feel that i need to share.

yes, there were many faith promoting activities. i've blocked out most of them, i honestly can't remember much of girls' camp. however, i do remember my first time there. i was a beehive (they call each class a silly name) and twelve and a half. it was the last night there and my bunk mates and i went to bed early because there was a sunrise fireside testimonial meeting the next day. apparently, unknown to us, that was also the night for the older girls to prank the beehives. so we get the wake-up call before dawn and we rush out to hike to the meeting area. half way there we realize, to our horror, we had been pranked. we each had some sort of soap in our hair and charcoal on our faces. the fireside lasted over two hours long. dried soap in your hair for that long is hell. when we got back to our cabin to pack up to go home we found cut up onions in our sleeping bags.

the sad thing is, i do love to camp. i don't mind bugs and hiking and cooking over a fire. one year it poured the entire week and it was our first year in actual tents, and my feet were wet the whole week. not even my skin peeling on my feet bothered me as much as manipulation wrapped in the pretty bow of "faith promoting" experiences.