53 lines
2.9 KiB
Markdown
53 lines
2.9 KiB
Markdown
---
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date: 2025-11-08
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description: "A brief retelling of my experience leaving the Mormon faith."
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image: ""
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lastmod: 2025-11-08
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showTableOfContents: false
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tags: ["religion", "life"]
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title: "Why I Let Go of the Rod"
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type: "post"
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draft: true
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---
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## First Nephi
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I recognize it's important to establish some things before heading out any further because the audience I could be
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reaching is extremely broad. So, before I get in to tell my tall tale, lets clear the air so I don't run the risk of
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losing anyone along the way.
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- As of the time of writing, it is a commonly held preference not to say Mormons, and instead say members of the Church
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of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints.
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- I'm not writing this to persuade anyone. This is my story. If you feel attacked or validated by my experience, I am
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going to put that onus on you, the reader, to draw what conclusions you deem appropriate.
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- My motivation to write this is to have something thought out and prepared when people ask why I left. This request
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typically comes from friends and family still a part of the faith, which I always appreciate. Your brain is left
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whirling a bit when you leave the Church, so hopefully this can clarify things for both of us.
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- If you the reader don't know much about the (more commonly recognized) "Mormon" faith, then this post may be hard
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to follow. It will waste no time explaining concepts and assume the reader is familiar with the doctrines, history,
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and positions of the church. I will do my best to delineate between commonly held **facts** and my _opinions_ and cite
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my sources.
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- If you the reader take issue with how I've portrayed things, please reach out! I mean it. There's no real way to
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express my sincerity through high contrast pixels on your device of choice, but its true. I feel strongly it is
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important to always keep these conversations open.
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_Hopefully_ I haven't lost you, dear reader, and I want to thank you in advance for any of the effort you take to
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understand and empathize with me. You keep my faith in humanity <3
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So, without further ado, lets "begin at the very beginning"
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## "Born of goodly parents"
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I grew up in a loving home with parents that did their best to give us kids a great life. I'm the middle kid, the
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glue you might say *smirk. My involvement in the church informed much of my life. My friends were typically the boys in
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my ward's Sunday school class or in my boy scout troop. My views of the world were most entirely shaped by my religion.
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There was some anxiety as a kid knowing whether or not someone was a member because it meant Friends houses that weren't
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members of the church felt unsafe.
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When I was 8 or 9, I remember feeling immense responsibility, mixed with privilege and dread, thinking that God had
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restored His One True Church to my neighborhood! Relief washed over me when I learned that there were actually millions
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of us, not just the two hundred in my ward. lol.
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test
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