A Letter to a Friend

An open letter to our former Mormon friends. I hope that this letter can help someone else save a friendship that is worth saving.

My Dear Friend,

I was thinking about you today.  I was recalling the circumstances surrounding the end of our friendship. I am sad. I am angry. I am hurt.

We were good friends.  We traveled together, we spent holidays together, and we raised our kids together. We laughed together, we mourned together, we rejoiced together, and we celebrated together. We have been through hard times, heartbreaking times, and fun times. We were friends for a long, long time.

Until.  Until we left the Mormon church. After a while, you stopped calling us back. You made excuses to avoid going to dinner with us. No more movies, or holidays, or vacations. No more inside jokes, misadventures, and goofy evenings eating ice cream in the grocery store. We drifted apart, and before we knew it, we hadn't seen you for over six months. Eventually you sent me a letter ending the friendship, stating that I wasn't the same "my friend Heidi" that I had been. You're right.  I'm not that same Heidi, and I think that's a good thing.

When we met for dinner two years ago, not knowing it would be the last time I saw you, you said the following to me: "You wear whatever you want, say whatever  you want, drink whatever you want, and think whatever you want. I see enough of that in my job at the high school, and I don't need it in my friends." That night, I was apologetic, almost desperate to save the friendship, but the more I thought about it, I got angry.

Damn right, I can say, think, wear, drink, and do whatever I want.  I follow my heart and my own conscience. Before you judged me and dissolved our friendship, did you even look at my heart and my soul?  Did you see that I am much less judgmental?  Did you see the kindness that I show to strangers? Did I start gossiping, being cruel, dishonest, or violent? Did you look at my moral values, or did you judge me based only on superficial changes in me? Did you set aside your Mormon yardstick for a moment, so you could see me with unbiased eyes?

Sure, I curse from time to time, I got a tattoo, I drink wine, I have three piercings in each ear, I wear shorter skirts, tops with no sleeves, and sometimes I have cleavage. I think for myself and I do the things that I think are right. I have a kind soul, I care for others and the earth, I love my fellow man and I am a flawed human being, but I'm a better version of me than Mormon me was. It's a shame that you didn't stick around to see it. My life is rich and full of amazing people, but I'll likely always be a little sad that you aren't part of it.

I wish you the best.

Your free-thinking friend,

Heidi

The General Conference Talk that Should Have Been

At last weekend’s Mormon General Conference, Jeffry R. Holland delivered one of the most disturbing talks that has ever been uttered over the LDS pulpit.  He worked every mother of a wayward child into a panicked frenzy over the lost soul that was her son or daughter.  His words and those of other LDS general authorities amount to nothing more than a war cry towards apostates.

The Mormon Church is losing members at a rate that is sending shock waves of alarm among the glorious fifteen rich, white, privileged men who run the corporation masquerading as a church.  The membership is dropping, and by that I mean that people are actually resigning from the church in droves.  People are packing up and leaving, whole families even, and these are not the people on the fringes of Mormonism. These are the stalwart, temple recommend-holding Mormon poster children type families.  Poof, gone!  Along with their money, time, and talents.

Now, the church has two choices.  They can choose to sooth the fears of the parents of errant children by taking a gentle stance of Christian kindness and unconditional love, or they can choose the gestapo route.  I had hoped, when I left the church three years ago, that they would choose the former, but unfortunately, with every passing conference, it’s clear that they are choosing the latter.

Here I present the Conference Talk that Should Have Been:

My Dear Brothers and Sisters,

I am humbled to stand before you today to speak about an extremely sensitive topic.  Many of you, maybe even most of you have a son, daughter, or other loved one who has left the Mormon Church to pursue another path in life.  I say firmly to you, to each of you within the sound of my voice that you have only one option, and that is to love your wayward loved ones with the absolute unconditional love of Christ.  

Now, we speak of this term a great deal in the church.  What does it actually mean?  Unconditional love is exactly that.  Love without conditions, acceptance, kindness, and inclusion.  Do not weep and tell them that you are praying for their lost souls.  Do not exclude them from family events.  Do not gossip about them because they do not wear clothing that is in keeping with Mormon standards.  Do not judge them for drinking alcohol, smoking, getting tattoos, multiple piercings, being gay, or living with their significant other outside the bonds of marriage.  After all, didn’t God instruct us to let him do the judging?   This means that you do not get to judge them.  Period.

Which is a greater sin?  To stray from the straight and narrow path than is Mormonism, or to judge another who strays?  I say to you that it is a greater sin to judge, because God himself reserved that privilege for himself.  Is it not enough that you quietly live your own convictions, and leave others to live their lives as they see fit?  God only expects of you to concern yourself with your own thoughts and deeds, not those of your loved ones.  

I speak now, especially to the mothers.  These are your children.  The little one you cared for, loved and taught the best you knew how.  You spent sleepless nights while they burned up with fever.  You mended their scraped elbows, and dried their tears.  You cooked countless meals for them.  You rocked them, sang to them, read to them, taught them to pray, and took them to church.  They were a gift from God to you.

Now they are grown.  It is their time to live a life of their own choosing, even if it is not the life you would choose for them.  The beauty of our time on earth is that we all have the agency to choose the life we want to live.  Do not mourn for them.  Rejoice that they are living the plan God set in place.  God gave them the right to determine the path for themselves.  You have done all you can, and now is the time to set them free.

If you are going to pray for them, pray that they find happiness and joy in whatever they pursue in life.  It may not be the ideal life for you, but you can love them and support them as they make their way in this world.  Some will be doctors, scientists, athletes, musicians, artists, philosophers, teachers, and I pray that all of them will achieve truly great things.  Pray that they will find peace in serving their fellow man.  Pray that they will find solace in your arms, that they will trust you and love you because they know that you will never judge them.

Most of all, pray for yourself, that you can find peace and acceptance in your own heart, free from guilt, fear, or remorse for any failings that you might burden yourself with.  Be confident that you truly did the best you could, and did your utmost to raise your babies to be loving human beings.  I say to you that everything will be okay.  I believe in a loving God, who cares just as deeply for your children as he does for you.  God is just, he is kind, and he is forgiving.

Weep not, worry not.  Be of good cheer as you wrap your children and loved ones in your comforting arms as only parents are able.  Trust that God knows you and knows your children, and after all, the Lord looketh on the heart.

Becoming Myself

When I saw my therapist last Friday, she said something that got me thinking. I was telling her about having purposely severed a longtime friendship, and some family relationships, and all because of the church. She said that it seems that in Mormonism, development of self and personal identity comes secondary to faith in the church.

It's so very true.

When I was Mormon, I wouldn't cook with wine, or order a wine dish at a restaurant in order to stay as far away from "evil" as possible. If I'd used my rational brain, I would have realized that a little wine in a food dish isn't going to turn me into an alcoholic, and it's not unhealthy, which is supposedly the point of the Word of Wisdom. In reality, Mormon rules are more about exerting control over the masses than anything else. If you can control people's diets, sex lives, wardrobes, money, what kind of TV they watch, who they marry, and how they spend their private time, you control their very existence and their psyche.

It's rare to find an LDS woman who was raised to be strong, and to find her passion in life. Little girls are taught from an early age to desire motherhood above all. Girls are not taught to find something that drives them and to go for it. Girls feel defective if they want something other than the standard issue Mormon woman's life. Girls are not free to develop their identity, whatever that be, without the oppressive expectations of Mormonism. A young girl isn't free to say that she dreams of being a Navy pilot one day. She may not even admit it to herself, even if it's the most amazing thing she's ever heard of. She definitely wouldn't admit it to her parents, or church leaders. The pressure to conform is intense, and it takes a strong, rebellious personality to break free. Unfortunately, that rebellion is undesirable, and harshly punished.

"Good" is determined by the religion, not by the person's own intellect and moral code. Often, the religious person has a warped moral code, based entirely on Mormon minutiae such as wearing of garments, having a beer at a party, saying fuck, or wearing a sleeveless top, rather than things that really matter such as honesty, loyalty, kindness, and compassion. Some of the best people I know have foul mouths, tattoos, piercings, and drink beer (one of these people is me), all of which would make them “bad” people to Mormons. This judgement, from what I can tell, is based entirely on superficial adherence to rules, rather than being based on deeper moral character traits.

I recently came across five glaring examples to demonstrate my point:

1. Brent posted a story in a Facebook group about his father. When the grandchildren in the family turn 8, Brent’s father, who is an artist, would paint a portrait of the grandchild. In the Mormon religion, children routinely get baptized at the age of 8. Brent’s youngest daughter, Maggie, had turned 8, but since Maggie’s family had left the Mormon Church, Maggie was not getting baptized, and therefore, was informed that she would not be receiving a portrait from her grandfather. This little girl was devastated. An artist in the group offered to paint the little girl’s portrait, and Brent has given me permission to use his photograph of the painting for my blog post. This act of service and kindness from a complete stranger touched the hearts of many. If you are in the market for some beautiful art, please consider purchasing something from this wonderfully caring woman.
2. My friend, Clark, found himself divorced after leaving the church. He and his wife had four small children at the time. His ex-wife posted on Facebook that nobody should judge Clark, that he was the best husband and father anyone could ever ask for, but that she had her own reasons for the divorce. Those reasons? He didn’t believe in the church. He no longer fit the “Peter Priesthood” role that she expected him to fill, and therefore was disposable.
3. I recently came across a manicotti recipe. The recipe actually looks disgusting (Velveeta, blech), but the comments on the recipe were a clear demonstration of the childish mentality created by Mormonism. The recipe called for a jar of vodka sauce. The women fretted and debated back and forth about the dangers of using this sauce and whether it would cause them to break the word of wisdom. The exchange was quite humorous, and I’ll let you experience it for yourself here.
4.  My friend Angela posted on Facebook that her daughter, Kimmy, had recently turned 8, but did not plan to get baptized. Angela’s parents were relentless with the nagging, pushing, shaming, and constant Mormon sales pitch towards Kimmy. Finally, in frustration, Kimmy yelled out, “No means NO!!” The grandparents were horrified at the disrespect, but Angela pointed out that they were the ones being disrespectful of Kimmy’s right to choose.
5. Some decades ago, a woman, Tracy and her family left the church. They announced to the family that their son would not be getting baptized. Tracy’s in-laws sent a letter stating that it would have been better for Tracy’s entire family to have died in a fiery car crash than to have left the church because at least their eternal salvation would have been secure. When my husband first left the church, I thought something similar, and blogged about it here.

In the absence of religion, would any of these five situations have occurred? Would a loving grandfather refuse to paint a portrait of his granddaughter? What could an eight year old child possibly do to incur such wrath in the real world? In the real world, would Clark’s wife have divorced him, even though she admits that he is a great husband and father? In the real world, are women so terrified of alcohol that they are afraid to use a vodka sauce, or order chicken marsala? What kinds of things do grandparents in the real world expect of eight year old children? Politeness, kindness, respect, enjoying their company, sending a thank you note for gifts? Would rational people in the real world really wish people dead rather than leaving a religion? When people who have never been Mormon hear these stories, they have a hard time believing that the tales are not exaggerated. Yet I read and hear many stories just like these every single day.

This is why we have a difficult time dealing with Mormons after we leave. We are constantly measured by friends, family, and spouses by the yardstick of Mormonism. We sometimes have to cut people out of our lives due to the relentless judgement and criticism. We know that we are good, moral people. We realize that you don't need any religion, much less Mormonism to be a good person. Mormons think that Mormonism is the most important quality to determine whether or not you are a good person. Being Mormon is the ultimate in "good".

Only it's not.

Now I am free to soar, to become whoever I want to become.  I'm free to judge the merits of others based on how they treat me and their fellow human beings.  I'm free from dogma and fear, and I'm free to find out who I am.  Freedom tastes incredible!

Our Marriage Redefined

I've been married to Mr. Pink Hedgehog, my high school sweetheart, for 25 years.  Like all marriages, we've had our ups and downs, seriously stressful times, and years of absolute bliss.  We've come through a lot together, and somehow managed to cling to each other instead of pulling apart.  That is, until the unthinkable happened.  In 2013, our neighboring state of Washington legalized gay marriage.  Suddenly, a sense of foreboding filled our home, and we knew that it was only a matter of time until our own state of Oregon followed suit.  We wondered how we could possibly grasp the remaining threads of our relationship and attempt to keep it together, what with all of this redefining going on.  Then the absolute worst; Oregon legalized gay marriage as of May 19, 2014.  A cloud of doom settled over us and simply will not leave.  How can we continue with our loving relationship, knowing that people of the same sex can now enjoy all of the privileges we have enjoyed for 25 years?

I've heard this argument, ad nauseum, from my religious friends, that redefining marriage somehow harms heterosexual marriage.  When I ask how, exactly, the harm is caused, they are at a loss for words.  It's a tired cliche that they hear at church and on Fox News, and repeat without even thinking about what they are saying.  For one thing, since when is redefining a term a bad thing?  Redefining merely clarifies, expounds, extends, or evolves, it's neither good nor bad, it just is.

First of all, how many times has marriage been redefined in the course of history?  Too many to count.  How many times was marriage redefined in the Bible, for goodness sake?  Concubines, women sold as property, women given as gifts or as bargaining chips in a land deal, just to name a few.  Hell yes, let's redefine!  I'm nobody's property, I'm not some gift to be given or traded.  The fact that marriage, for the most part, has been relatively recently redefined as one man and one woman marrying each other for love, and of their own choice doesn't make that kind of marriage the "traditional" kind of marriage.  There are more traditions of marriage than I can count on my fingers and toes combined, so what makes this most recent tradition the correct one?  God said so, you say?  Um, God said lots of other things as well, such as Abraham taking a concubine, and then another wife after Sarah's death.  God also told Mormons to grab as many wives as possible, even if they are young teens and you're a middle aged man.

Anyone know what Mormon scripture says about wives and women?  I do.

I won't bore you with the excessively verbose and flowery language that Joseph Smith used when he made up this "scripture".  D&C 132 essentially says that women are the property of the men who marry them.  It also says that the highest form of celestial marriage is that of polygamy, and that anyone not entering into polygamy cannot attain the highest degree in Mormon heaven, aka the Celestial Kingdom.  In addition, if a man commits adultery, his wives can be taken from him and given to another.  Thank heavens that marriage has since been temporarily suspended by the Mormon church, though most Mormons probably don't realize what Mormon doctrine and scripture actually says.  Mormon practices and Mormon doctrine are two different things, apparently.

As a child, I always hated the thought of polygamy.  I was scared that I'd have to live it, and I didn't want to.  It was one of those things that I chose not to think about because it was too disturbing.  It was an incredible relief to me to leave Mormonism behind and to realize that the "doctrine" of polygamy was nothing more than Joseph Smith justifying his unwillingness to be faithful to his wife, Emma.

In support of my LGBT friends, on this, the eve of the Supreme Court addressing the issue of gay marriage, I say let's redefine.  Let's and embrace and support anyone who wants to spend a lifetime loving each other.  Enough of the "God said it's bad" argument.  "God" said lots of things in the Bible and Mormon scriptures that people choose to ignore.  Let people live and love and have basic human rights.  If there's some kind of sinning going on, why not let God deal with it, and we all just go about the business of loving each other?

Dive Deep and Swim Far

"Be not the slave of your own past - plunge into the sublime seas, dive deep, and swim far, so you shall come back with new self-respect, with new power, and with an advanced experience that shall explain and overlook the old."

~~Ralph Waldo Emerson

I came across the above quote by Emerson this morning while browsing the internet.  I posted it on my Facebook wall, as is my habit, but for some reason, I couldn't get the quote out of my thoughts, and I ruminated about the way this applies to my life, and to my recovery from Mormonism.

I took a big step a couple of weeks ago, and applied for grad school.   Making this move in my life is a huge deal for me, one of the most pivotal steps in reclaiming my life, my identity, and in discovering what I want to be "when I grow up".

You see, when I was a little girl, like millions of other little Mormon girls, nobody every asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up.  For a Mormon girl, there's only one right answer; one thing that God has in mind for you, and that is to be a wife and a mother.  I performed this duty right on cue, doing everything this role encompasses.  I never even dreamed that I could have been something else, that I might have wanted to be a teacher, a doctor, a therapist, an artist, a dancer, a cruise ship director, or a scientist.

Don't get my wrong, I have no problem with a woman (or man for that matter) being a stay at home parent, if that is their choice.  The key word here, is choice.  Some will say that I always had a choice, and I suppose that they are right, if I wanted to disappoint God, and disobey Him, thereby earning his wrath and losing my ticket to heaven.  I did as I was commanded, and didn't even bother to dream of anything else.

In the 2 1/2 years since leaving Mormonism, I have changed a great deal.  I feel like I have woken up from a long sleep and stepped into a colorful world, full of stunning, interesting people, and innumerable options for the rest of my life.  I am attacking life with zest, with enthusiasm, like a starving refugee, presented with a mouth-watering buffet.  Still, there's been a sadness in my soul, a weight, filled with regret for all of the years which had been stolen from me.  I spent so many years living a lie, years which I will never get back.

As I talk to other women, I feel this same burden in their hearts, a grief that is so profound that it nearly takes one's breath away.  What might we have been?  What would we have dreamed of being when we were young, had we been allowed to dream?  How can we possibly ever be made whole?  The sad (or happy) fact is that we can't change the past.  Like flowing water, like fluid seas, the past has gone, moved on to another realm, and we cannot get it back.

But, and this is what touched me today about the Emerson quote, I can stop being a slave to my past.  What use are tears shed over a career that I might have had?  They benefit me nothing.  Certainly there is grieving to be done, as there is after any trauma, but, if I weep too long, sorrow too much, or hold this weight in my soul, then my past of Mormonism is still my master.  So now, in my new life, my rebirth, I will plunge deep into the sublime seas of my future, and swim far.  I will live the dreams of the little girl inside me, who has aged a bit now (or a lot), seize my power, and overlook the old.  

I will make a difference in this new life of mine.  I will live, I will dream, I will wear flowers in my hair, I will soar, I will dance, I will twirl in circles in a field of daisies, I will spread sparkly fairy dust over the whole world, I will sing, I will roar, and I will rejoice, for I am shackled no longer.

What do I believe?

When I meet new people and the subject of religion comes up, it often leads me to share that I am a former Mormon.  People are usually fascinated by my story and what it was like living such a repressive lifestyle.  It frequently turns into a stimulating conversation with lots of questions, and inevitably, people ask what church I go to now.

I am frankly honest with them, and tell them that it's very hard to put trust in any other religion, or even trust in God since I spent my whole life living an obviously false set of teachings.  I was a very, very devout Mormon, and nearly all of my daily life involved Mormonism in some way.  When we left the church, there were layers and layers of indoctrination to peel off of my soul and my psyche.

I can honestly say that I have blossomed outside the oppressive regime of Mormonism.  I love my life.  I love my fellow human beings.  I embrace and accept them all at face value instead of judging them by the pitiful yardstick that was my Mormon upbringing.  People who knew me before I left Mormonism and see me now have noticed the change, the spring in my step, the light in my eyes, my enthusiasm and my smile.  I have left such a burden behind that I cannot help but be buoyant.

When I first left Mormonism, I assumed that I would always be Christian and that I would always believe in God.  As things evolved, and I allowed myself to think and believe whatever I like, I discovered that I do not believe in Jesus and I do not believe in God.  I call myself an apatheist now, which means I really don't care about God and I don't want to spend another minute of my life trying to figure out if there is a god or not, and what it is that he or she wants me to do.  It's a perfectly good waste of my life to do so.

My journey to apatheism started when I was watching a documentary about Auschwitz on Netflix.  One woman, who had been a child in Auschwitz said, "There was no god in Auschwitz."  I literally sat back on the sofa and stared into space in shock.  There was no god in Auschwitz.  Just wow!  I realized in that minute that I am a better parent than the god about whom I had been taught.   And trust me, I'm not that great of a parent, passable at best.  But I sure as hell wouldn't let my Nazi children kill my Jewish children.  Never.  I want my children to have free will, but I wouldn't stand by and watch one group of them kill another under the guise of free will.  In that very instant, I simply stopped believing in god.  

I see plenty of evidence that a belief in god can inspire people to do good in the world.  I also see that a belief in god can drive people to commit some of the most heinous evils.  I see no evidence that god, himself does anything for human beings.  I know that people pray and feel that their prayers are answered, but honestly, it doesn't feel right to me to pray about a lost pair of glasses and feel that god would hear and answer my prayer when there are millions of innocent children starving and being abused around the world.  If I were god, I simply couldn't watch that happen, meanwhile helping people find car keys, send extra money to pay the bills, and helping cars start.

So, what is left?  What do I believe?  I believe in doing good.  I believe in helping others.  I believe in humanity as a whole, and that we can do so much more together than any of us can individually.  If we can simply stop fighting about god, and which god we should worship.  Stop killing each other in the name of god.  How about we start leaving god out of the equation?

Many people ask me, "What if you're wrong?"  Well, if I'm wrong, and there is a god and I was supposed to worship him in a certain way, then he did a pretty horrible job of letting me know which way that is.  He made it extremely hard to believe in him at all.  I have friends of many faiths, including Mormonism, and all of them feel about their faith in the same way as each other.  Each feels that they have found the correct path back to god.  They can't all be right, and since each of the ways is flawed in some way, I choose none of these ways.  If there is, in fact, a loving god, he will understand that I spend the majority of my life being fooled, and living a false religion, so I think that gives me a "get into heaven free" card.  If he is there and is a loving god, and yet wouldn't let me have a gimme, then I wouldn't want to worship him anyway, and I'll join my fellow apostates and atheists in hell.

I ran across a quote this morning, posted by a friend on Facebook that affected me deeply, and inspired this blog post:

"If there is no hope of eternal life, then what is the purpose of life?" is a question we atheists often hear. My response is that there is indeed no purpose of life. there is purpose in life. If there were a purpose of life, then that would cheapen life. It would make us tools or slaves of someone else's purpose. Like a hammer that hangs on the garage wall waiting for someone to build something, if we humans were designed for a purpose then we would be subservient in the universe. Our value would not be in ourselves. It would be in our submission to the will of the toolmaker. That is slavery to a master, or infant dependency on a father figure. Besides, if there is a god, what is the purpose of his life? If he doesn't need a purpose, why do we? …..If I raise a child who is eternally dependent on me for meaning, then I am an inept parent.

There is no purpose of life. Life is its own reward. But as long as there are problems to solve, there will be purpose in life. When there is hunger to lessen, illness to cure, pain to eradicate, oppression to resist, knowledge to gain and beauty to create, there is meaning in life. A college student once asked Carl Sagan: "What meaning is left, if everything I've been taught since I was a child turns out to be untrue?" Carl looked at him and said, "Do something meaningful."  ~~Dan Barker.

And now I'm off to do something meaningful.

Slaying My Dragons

From the moment in June 2012 that Mr. Pink Hedgehog, my husband of 22 years told me he no longer believed the Mormon Church to be true, to be God’s one true church on earth, my life has undergone enormous changes.  Less than three weeks after that gut wrenching day, I also had my own epiphany regarding the veracity of the church, I walked away, and I wish I could say that I never looked back.  There are many “wise” quotes about never looking back, but rather moving forward.  I’m not sure I see the wisdom in that advice.  I agree that one shouldn't dwell in the past, since you can’t change it, and you don’t live in the past.  My goal is to live very much in the present with vibrant authenticity, and never apologize for being me ever again. 

I feel it is important, however, to examine the past.  How did I get here?  Why do I believe that?  Why am I doing that?  What created that fear?  What created that habit?  How do I change?  By examining my past from an intellectual perspective, I have been able to slay some inner dragons that I wasn't even aware existed.  It's no small feat to overcome 43 years of mind control and programming by a very clever cult, and to choose an authentic life over a fear based existence.  This is not to say my journey has been entirely intellectual.  There have been plenty of tears, earth shattering moments, and scary times.  I have slain some enormous dragons in the 15 months since leaving Mormonism.  I have taken back my power, grasped hold of my life, and marched onward with gusto.  Pretty much all I need now is a fabulous pink cape to go with my sword of truth and my shield of courage.

Dragon #1--Coffee

Oh boy, was I terrified of coffee. When my Mr. Pink Hedgehog first left the church, he asked me if it was okay for him to drink coffee.  At first I said it would make me really sad.  Within a day or so, I realized how silly that was, and that if he wanted to drink coffee, he would sneak and do it at work anyway, so I might as well just say it was okay.  After all, he was a grown man, and it's just coffee, but I told him he'd better not bring it home and set a bad example for our kids.  We were raising them up to be good Mormons who keep the Word of Wisdom, so it was vital to keep all evil influences out of our home.

Within another day or so, I realized that my latest request was also silly, that a grown man, paying for the home we live in should not have to sneak and hide, and that he should be able to have a cup of coffee in his own home if he wants to.  Another day later, I told him he needed to buy coffee when he was with me, so he could drink it, I could kiss him, and find out what coffee tastes like without breaking the Word of Wisdom. That day, I deliberately took a sip of the forbidden brew from his cup.  Fear gripped my heart, and I felt like a naughty schoolgirl who has been caught making out with a boy behind the bleachers.  The whole story is humorous now, and my thinking was juvenile, but it clearly demonstrates the result of living a life while scared of so many dangerous dragons such as coffee.

Dragon #2--Alcohol

Alcohol is even more dangerous and frightening than coffee.  After all, it's mood altering, and extremely addictive.  One sip, and you are likely to turn into a raging alcoholic, right?  Just take the first drink, and you are well on your way to a life of depravity, drunk driving, neglecting your kids, and daily hangovers.  No thanks!  Alcohol is super, super, duper scary.  Super!!  Only it's not.  In August 2012, Mr. Pink Hedgehog and I were on a cruise to Alaska, and I decided I was done being scared of alcohol, and I ordered my first alcoholic drink.  The very first drop of alcohol ever to touch my lips was Sex on the Beach.  I sipped the drink and waited.....nothing really happened.  I felt a little warm and floaty, but nothing else happened.  No dark clouds gathered over me, no thunder and lightning, nor maniacal evil laughter ensued.  Little old me, sitting on the cruise ship, just continued to sit, knit my socks, and chat with people around me.  Hmmm, interesting, a whole lot of fear and stress over a whole lot of nothing.

Since that time, I have been to parties where I drank too much.  I've been tipsy, I've been responsible, and I've had a good deal of fun.  Most nights I either have a glass of wine with dinner, or don't drink at all.  I'm the same me, carrying one less fear around with me.  I became obsessed initially with alcohol, but not really to drink it, simply to gain knowledge about an entire subject that had been forbidden to me.  I'm a knowledge sponge of sorts, and I can obsess on a new topic when I stumble across it.  I bet that not many people know what sloe gin is and how it's made.  I do because I looked it up.  I simply must know things!  It's one of my quirks.  Believe it or not, I've even lost Mormon friends because of alcohol.  I posted a funny joke about beer, which earned me a lecture from someone I had counted as a friend.  She told me she couldn't believe that I'd "lost my moral values".  I'm pretty sure I don't want to live by her list of "moral values".  Recently I posted a photo of my signature drink, a Pink Hedgehog on Facebook.  The next day, she had unfriended me.  I kid you not.

Dragon #3--Red Shoes

I wrote a post back in February about this particular dragon.  Click here.

Dragon #4--Self Sacrifice

I've lost a lot of weight since leaving the church.  I have more to lose, but I'm on a quest, working on it a day at a time.  To further this effort, I decided that I really wanted to join a gym.  Mr. Pink Hedgehog had offered more than once to get me a gym membership, but I always hesitated.  This past week, I had a guest pass for a day to an expensive and exclusive gym in our area.  I have always liked to swim, and decided to try it out that day, to see how I liked it.  As I swam, I realized that I would love to have a membership to this gym.  I talked to Mr, Pink Hedgehog about it, and we went over to take a tour.  This gym costs about double what the regular chain gyms cost, but the membership numbers are kept down so you don't have to deal with crowding.  The facilities are beautiful, upscale, and elegant.

As we took the tour, I was well aware of the cost to join, even with Mr. Pink Hedgehog's discount as the employee of a large local company.  I was also aware that we could both join another gym for considerably less money per month, but I really, really wanted a membership at this one, and to top it off, the gym is the closest to Mr. Pink Hedgehog's work, so we could exercise together sometimes.  This was a pivotal moment in my life, only I didn't even know it at the time.  I can't believe this was only 4 days ago because so much has changed within me since that time.  As I stood there trying to decide which gym to choose, Mr. Pink Hedgehog said to me, "Choose the one you want, cost doesn't matter (which I already knew), choose the one in which you prefer to exercise."  At that very moment, a light bulb went on in my brain, and I finally, for one of the first times ever, said, "I want this one."

Wow!  Just wow!!  For one of the very first times ever in my life, I did not opt for the cheaper version just because it was what I was supposed to do.  As a Mormon mamma, I always took care of everyone.  I looked after Mr. Pink Hedgehog, took care of the kids, the dog, volunteered at the school, cleaned the house, ran errands, served in my callings, helped everyone, bought clothes and shoes for everyone else, but when it came to buying things for me, or doing things for me, I felt guilt.  I always shopped clearance racks (nothing wrong with that), and felt extreme guilt if I couldn't clothe myself entirely in bargains.  For the first time ever, I stood firm and straight, and said what I really, truly wanted with no guilt, and without opting for the least expensive, just because it was what I was supposed to do.  I guess I've grown rather weary of "supposed to" lists; with someone else telling me what I should want to do and be.  It's finally time to be me, take it or leave it.



I've learned a lot about myself; how I am in control of my life, and my dragons are not.  Dragons are for slaying, not for obeying.