Category Archives: religion

Erudition

Posted in Christianity, church, Enlightenment, Feminism, mormonism, philosophy, Plant Medicine, psychadelics, Ram Dass, religion, thoughts, Truth by

Growing up in the LDS faith, I was always taught that having a firm testimony was paramount to my salvation. I was taught that the mormons have the complete Truth, and that god only gave the other religions a snippet of it. Having shed that value system, I have since realized that proclaiming to know ANYTHING about the divine is not only ignorant, but inhibitory to spiritual growth. Why would I continue to search for capital T “Truth” if I have convinced myself that I already have it?

My curiosity for theology is insatiable. Thanks to podcasts, books, and loved ones of beautifully diverse backgrounds, I have gained insight from studying faiths from all parts of the globe, and have obtained value from each of them (yes, even Christianity, despite their notoriously violent and abusive history).

As I embarked on my path to spiritual healing after leaving Mormonism, I discovered the Divine Feminine, and how many Eastern and indigenous cultures revere and worship goddesses. In these contexts, femininity is revered in conjunction with the masculine. This type of worship has been sorely missing from my life, as I’ve never once related to all of the typical dude prophets we find in western scripture. I also think it’s a bold assumption that god is a male, or even has a gender to begin with.

I have also learned that there are several modalities for Sacrament. I’ve experienced the power of plant medicine, and have achieved mental states that can only be described as ethereal. These experiences have helped me dive deep into my own consciousness and have empowered me to pursue Truth within myself. They have also connected me intimately with Mother Nature in reverence.

Then there are contemporary spiritual leaders such as Ram Dass, who have taught me to separate the “me” from the “I,” and become the witness of my own emotions and how I react to experiences. This practice has helped me keep trying times into perspective, and to not identify with the negativity that tumultuous events can bring.

I could type all day about the things I’ve learned and will continue to seek out as I search for Truth and meaning, but I’ll get to the point now. The knowledge that I’ve acquired and pieced together is uniquely mine. Who knows if there’s a god out there somewhere who dictates scripture and triages the dead into whatever degree of glory they earned? Will he withhold my heavenly dwelling from me because my eggs aren’t in one basket? If so, I’m not interested in heaven.

You won’t find me in church. I won’t give precious hours of my time to sit in pews and have gatekeepers of Truth tell me how to interpret my spiritual experiences. I commune directly with the Divine, and the intuition provided to me by my maker is the only guide I need.

In closing, I’d like to bare my testimony. I don’t know that any church is true. I don’t know if there’s a god, to what extent she or he is involved in my life, or whether there’s a warm welcome waiting for me on the other side. I am dedicated to continuously seeking out Truth, regardless of where it comes from. I am committed to not committing to any one dogma, and to actively exploring as many schools of thought as I can. I know that I’m entitled to establishing an eclectic ideology of my own, and that it will ALWAYS be subject to change. I believe that no religion has (or ever will) monopolize Truth. In the name of personal revelation, amen.

–M.

Schismatical

Posted in education, philosophy, politics, rant, religion by

An aunt of mine recently decided to run for a position on the Board of Education in the district that I grew up in, and that’s as specific as I’m going to get as it pertains to her identity. I would like to preface this post by saying that I find her platform shameful and embarrassing, and have chosen to avoid any and all affiliations with her in the future.

The district in which she is running for is sleepy, overwhelmingly white, and riddled with Mormon constituents. The closed-minded nature of this population makes a point of asserting its superiority and has a habit of excluding those who probably wouldn’t be accepted into the heaven that Joseph Smith planted in their heads (i.e. LGBT+ individuals, people who have tattoos, coffee fans, and yes-some even still subscribe to the notion that god won’t let people of color into his posthumous Sky Club). “Trump 2024” signs are far from uncommon. You get the point.

Some teachers have taken it upon themselves to build a safe and inclusive environment for all students despite this less-than-tolerant atmosphere. Not under my aunt’s watch. A few days ago, a photo began circulating around the bored housewife Facebook sphere of signs that teachers had posted in the hallway that indicate their pronouns:

In response, one of my aunt’s “platforms” was to call her constituents to action to pressure the teachers into taking their signs down by arguing that these signs are indoctrinating students into “woke culture,” and therefore must be eradicated. These folks flooded the principal’s inbox and left call after call with the school’s administration. Some even went as far as to threaten the teachers directly into compliance. And to no one’s surprise, it worked.

All of my aunt’s children (and all of her affiliates) are cis-gender and straight, so I can imagine that this is an issue that she simply won’t relate to (and refuses to sympathize with). We’re all familiar with the term “separation of Church and State,” but history has proven that this has never been the case in our “democracy.” My aunt is entitled to subscribe to whatever religious dogma she chooses, no matter how preposterous. However, she cannot impose those views on all of the students that reside within her district. The message that she is sending to the students of my alma mater is that kids whose identities do not carry the label of male or female do not deserve to be validated in their search for an authentic identity while they’re at school.

The simple signs posted in the hallways of my junior high school would likely have been an effective tool in promoting a safe and inclusive environment for students who are beginning to explore their identities and grow into themselves. Oftentimes, these kids don’t have an adult in their lives that they can trust to support them through the turmoils of puberty and development. Perhaps they can find one in a teacher who cares.

The argument that these signs are “indoctrinating our youth,” as my auntie would tell us, is utter bullshit. You wanna talk indoctrination? How about baptizing your 8-year-olds into a toxic religion that they can’t even comprehend well enough to understand the commitment you’re forcing upon them? How about insisting that the world is only 6,000 years old, despite the heap of archeological evidence that proves otherwise? How about spreading the toxic proposition that god will not embrace certain individuals in the afterlife if they are gay or non-white or identify with a pronoun that doesn’t align with their biological sex?

TLDR: If you’re going to run for a position on the Board of Education, you’d best be educated. Perpetrating this tone-deaf nonsense will only contribute to increased divisiveness in a climate that is already on the brink of civil unrest. Stop wasting time and effort on things that frankly have nothing to do with education. You live in the country with the highest rate of school shootings, for god’s sake. Kids are going to school hungry because they can’t afford lunch. Teachers are receiving poverty wages. The curriculum is severely lacking, and leaving graduates with little to no preparation for the Real World. Oh, and we’re ranked 27th WORLDWIDE in education, and declining. Develop a platform that will solve actual issues, or go find a new hobby.

Thank you to all of the teachers that courageously posted these signs. I hope you continue to promote a healthy environment for ALL of your students to flourish.

-M.

Dalliance

Posted in dating, Feminism, humor, rant, relationships, religion, thoughts, Uncategorized by

This is going to be one of those posts where I give advice that I shouldn’t have to give.

Piece of Advice #1: If you are not divorced, DO NOT TELL PEOPLE THAT YOU ARE DIVORCED.

I kid you not, I have had this happen to me twofold. And I get it, the incidence of divorce in my little corner of the world is extraordinarily high-MOST LIKELY because young twenty-somethings are advised from a very powerful organization that shall not be named to get married right after they exit high school (girls) or after they complete an honorable full-time mission (boys and girls if they want to).

So, they do it.

And so, 3-4 years later, a lot of them get divorced. It’s a sad, hard fact that I find rather discouraging, but so is life.

I have encountered two individuals whose reality this illustrates. And for the record, I have nothing against dating divorced men. I get it-we all have pasts and we’re all moving forward trying to find happiness for ourselves. But I DO have a lot of objections to dating a man who has not finalized his divorce, thus making him STILL MARRIED.

Guys, at the very least, I feel that if you’re going to start dating after you leave your marital relationship, you should at least be transparent about the status of the marriage so that your prospective future romantic interest can make an informed decision on whether or not to date you.

I thought that this was common sense, but apparently, I could not be more wrong.

Piece of Advice #2: DO NOT PLAY WITH PEOPLE’S BODIES, EMOTIONS, OR TIME.

The most recent not-divorced-liar-pants that I encountered played with all three.

You see, he and I have history. We liked each other in high school. But for some reason, or many, he didn’t do much about it, as I was “probably interested in someone else.”

Fast-forward a few years, and we reconnect. Thanks to Facebook, I knew that he’d been married. So I asked him point-blank about the status of his divorce, and he responded in the affirmative, that he was a single person. Nothing for me to worry about, or so I thought.

He took me on a handful of dates over the course of the past couple months, and we had a great time. He made out with me, brought me wine, took my hands in his, and told me that he wants me to be his future.

He said some rather frustrating things, too, such as “I don’t want you to wear leggings in public, because people will look at your butt” or “Be a good girl” when I was out with friends. Being possessive, as if we were in a relationship that he wasn’t willing to commit to.

He didn’t make time for me, and I didn’t pressure him to. I’m a “cool girl.”

I saw him once a week at first, and even less after that. But he’d send me gushy messages about how badly he misses me and wanted to “cuddle me for 27 hours” in addition to other pathetic nonsense. He always “wanted to see me super soon.”

So me, thinking that he and I were dating, would decline other offers from perfectly suitable gentlemen, and sit my ass on my couch, waiting patiently for him to show up, and sometimes, he never did.

But alas, the gushy text messages and rather suggestive Snapchats persisted, and my frustration multiplied.

Until yesterday, when I woke up to the realization that he had blocked my text messages, as well as my Snapchat account.

That’s right, folks. I have been ghosted.

Now, I can’t get a message through to him, thanks to his immature handling of the termination of our situationship, but I have some words to say, and they simply must get out, so here they are:

Dear Non-divorced Bachelor,

I have spent most, if not all, of my dating life feeling like a toy. Feeling taken advantage of. I’ve been assaulted, exploited, lied to, and hurt more times than you can count on your fingers. And you have only added to that number. How is it that some people are capable of earning someone’s affection and then slapping them in the face with it shortly thereafter? It’s a level of cruelty and selfishness that I will never truly understand.

If you didn’t feel the things you said you felt for me, then why did you say them?

If you did feel the things you felt for me, but then stopped, why didn’t you tell me?

It’s not fair to leave me to guess what it was that made you cut me off. Because I take the things that I say and feel, and the things that others say and feel, seriously. I foolishly trusted you.

But, thanks to you, I am left to speculate.

Was I too clingy? Was I not attractive? Did you get what you wanted from me, and now I have nothing left to offer? Were you just bored with the game you started with me, and are seeking out a new opponent?

Because that’s the way I see dating relationships now-they’re nothing but a game. You can’t trust the one you’re up against; don’t get too close, don’t give too much away. Make sure you’re always the one who cares less, or triumph will never belong to you.

And, in the case that you get bored, just go find yourself a new one. There are plenty of opponents eager to play.

But as for me? I’m done playing now.

 

M.

 

 

Progression

Posted in Eating disorders, Feminism, humor, mental health, rant, relationships, religion, strength, thoughts by

According to WordPress, I’ve been at this blogging thing for 3 years now.

But the “I” who started this blog hardly even remotely resembles the “I” who sits behind the keyboard now.

DownWithTheNorm was founded by an 18-year-old girl during the spark of her *formal* feminist awakening. That girl was fiery, angry, confused, and determined to fix the world. Misogyny was her only foe, and she was vigilant and determined to take him down, and took every opportunity to bare her teeth in the face of opposition.

But, as with all sparks, hers was extinguished.

Gradually, she let her inquiring mind guide her as she learned more and more about the world; how it probably works, and how it most likely doesn’t. She developed an air of cynicism, and became understandably tired of fighting the good fight. Others grew tired, bored, annoyed, or a combination of the three of her persistent, yet non-refreshing wordy posts on social media that accomplished nothing but a temporary emotional relief for our young author.

She did her best to keep her mind open, while simultaneously drawing her own independent conclusions. Especially in the context of her religion.

She spent a short duration as a walking contradiction; trying to force her newly acquired world views into a mold that simply would not fit. She wanted to be the change from within, but that resulted in her being pushed out.  She lost friends, but she gained an identity that she felt comfortable in. An authentic lifestyle was drawing nearer and nearer, but exponentially more solitary.

This girl was anxious-so much so that she couldn’t bare to even hold still even for a minute. Sleep was just a five-letter word. She had to be the fastest, the best, the smartest, and the skinniest always. And she was failing miserably at all of it.

But, breaking down turns into breaking through, if you let it.

The girl behind the keyboard is an enhanced version of the girl from 3 years ago.

I’ve had so many experiences that have shaped me into who I am now, whether that be for the better or not. I’m not the girl with the eating disorder anymore. I’m the girl who maybe spends too much time thinking about food and not enough time about breathing, and probably uses her bathroom scale more often than the average joe. And binges on breakfast cereal once in a blue moon. Oh, and HATES going to the gym.

I’m not the Mormon Feminist Anomaly anymore. I’m simply the feminist woman-person who believes that whether or not there is an afterlife is irrelevant. What really matters is that there are plenty of opportunities for me to develop and enhance as many interpersonal relationships as I possibly can during the time that I am allotted here. I believe that this life isn’t a test at all. Rather, it’s an opportunity to develop oneself to the fullest extent possible, and perhaps find an individualistic sense of happiness while we’re at it; whatever that looks like.

And for all of you looking to slap a label on me (because that’s what people do-no judgment), you can call me an Agnostic. Like I said, I’m not looking to shut out any possibilities completely.

I love tattoos, science, coffee, wine, and angry heathen misogyny-laden rap music. And I let myself love these things, because this is MY human experience. And what I choose to drink, put on my body, or listen to, does NOT make me a bad person, contrary to what I was led to believe growing up with religion

I’m not anxious anymore. Through the process of extensive trial and error, I’ve finally settled on a path that suits me. I got a job that makes me excited to wake up in the morning. I have a degree of self-sustainability that I never have had before. I feel liberated and powerful and in control. Rather than planning for my future, I’m actively taking steps toward living it, and I’m doing it calmly, mindfully, and relatively maturely.

As far as interpersonal relationships go, I’ve made strides toward getting out of my own way. I’m still a bit more self-isolating than I’d like to be, but baby steps are the name of the game. I can let loose now, and go out with friends once or twice a week. Hell, sometimes even on a school night! Because, as I mentioned beforehand, in the grand scheme of things, people are what matter. Yeah, going to bed early so I can bring my A game to school and work is important, but so is making time for those I care about. It’s all about balance.

I breathe easy, sleep easy, and am patient and engaged in every moment, which is much more than I could have ever said 3 years ago. I know I’m no sage of wisdom, and that I have much more developing, improvement, and revision to do, but I genuinely like the direction I’m heading.

Documenting my experiences over the past 3 years has been truly enriching for me, and hopefully at least mildly entertaining for you! I genuinely appreciate anyone who has ever and will ever take the time to read anything that I write.

Here’s to 3 more years!

M.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ontogeny

Posted in Feminism, humor, rant, relationships, religion, strength, Uncategorized, women by

Please excuse my extended absence from the blogging world as my time, energy, and soul have been completely consumed by collegiate education and self-discovery over the course of the past quarter-year.

I am a Psychology major, and even though I have no intention of working in this field, I feel that my studies have facilitated a complete shift in the framework of my worldview of humankind, in addition to the pace and style in which I conduct my day-to-day life.

I am a new person.

Okay, perhaps not a NEW person. I am still definitely myself, idiosyncrasies and all. But something clicked within me and created a (hopefully) permanent change in my outlook on life, and how I want to live it.

Perhaps the most impactful thing I learned all semester was a concept coined by Carl Rogers, a humanistic psychologist. He calls it “existential living.”

Existential living can be summarized by living in the “here and now.” This requires being fully present, both mentally and physically, in every moment and every environment you are placed in, which, as you can imagine, can prove exceptionally difficult to do when you have six upper-division level courses constantly competing for your attention, among other things like, I dunno, men? Facebook? Grey’s Anatomy? Philosophical podcasts?

I am guilty as charged for my preoccupation with the future, which I feel has robbed me of having meaningful experiences in the present. My former self never made time for actual experiences, other people, or simply stopping to smell the roses every now and then. Fortunately, a series of interrelated events and individuals have yanked me back from the future, and I am much more open to experience, flexible, and, dare I say it, relaxed.

I’ve learned a thing or two ever since this lightbulb went off in my little head. Let’s list them off, for organizational purposes.

  1. You don’t have to protect yourself from everyone. My previous self was so concerned about my own endeavors that I put relationships with other people on the back-burner. I had such tunnel vision that I had convinced myself that I didn’t need anyone else until I’d maxed out to my fullest potential. In retrospect, I admit that I was making excuses for my self-induced isolation as a defense mechanism. However, my newfound understanding of the human psyche has convinced me that people aren’t meant to go through any part of life alone. Attempting to do so can make you crazy, but, then again, so can people. It’s all about balance.
  2. More often than not, there is no definite answer. This concept terrifies me to this day, but I’m becoming more and more comfortable with it. The reason why I do not intend to work in the field of Psychology is due to the fact that there are so few, if any, definite answers as to why people behave the way they do, and, as I mentioned earlier, I don’t like that one bit. I’ve decided to focus my energy on the biological sciences, which are arguably significantly more concrete than theories attempting to account for human behavior. Take Freud, for example. The guy was a total nut case, and any theory I can draft up pertaining to psychological phenomena is just as valid as his were.
  3.  I can’t be good at everything. I suffer from chronic perfectionism. Now, I know what you’re thinking. “Poor M, what a curse, to HAVE to be perfect at everything. Cry me a river.” Where’s your empathy, folks? Claiming perfectionism is not intended to draw attention to my accomplishments. It’s a symptom of anxiety, and it has claimed more years of my life than I would like to admit. Anyway, the reason I include this in my “Life Lessons Learned Spring 2016 Greatest Hits” is because, for the first time in my life, I faced the possibility of failing a class. As it turns out, I am no statistician, and I don’t play one on TV. In all honesty, I exhausted my mental resources in the fight for a satisfactory grade in my Statistics course, and no matter how hard I tried, I was incapable of earning an A in this class. My previous self would have been devastated, my self-esteem shattered. I got a B. My current self thanks the heavens that I passed the class, and has severed the tie between my grades and my own perception of self-worth and competence.
  4. There is no rush. I plowed through my undergraduate degree. This December, I’ll be receiving my diploma at the ripe age of 21, just three years after graduating high school. While I am extremely proud of this accomplishment, a part of me wishes that I’d allowed myself to enjoy the journey a little bit more, and perhaps I could have achieved a higher level of authenticity and security in what I want to become. Besides, I have the rest of my life to go to graduate school, and then work until I can retire in the next 50 years or so and live happily ever after with an obscene amount of dogs at my side.
  5. Breathe. This one was probably the most beneficial to my physiological health. I am a frequent panic-attack victim, however, despite this semester being my heaviest course load, I experienced minimal panic-attacks, and my heart thanks me, due to my newfound ability to control my own stress levels. Rather than allow myself to activate full freak-out mode, I am now able to withdraw from the stressful stimulus, recompose myself, align my Chakras, and return to the task at hand as a much more composed and serene individual.

I’m sure that I’ve learned numerous other lessons over the past four months, but for some reason, we as a species are comfortable with the number 5. Besides, I’m sure that you all are tired of hearing my enlightened self express how enlightened I am.

Anyway, I exited this semester more sane than I entered it, which is refreshing, because I only have a week to recuperate before I dive into the summer semester.

I don’t know who I am without academia.

Onward, ever onward.

M.

 

Purposive

Posted in dating, Eating disorders, Feminism, humor, rant, relationships, religion, women by

Now that everybody’s done sharing their tentative New Year’s Resolutions with their online social circles, I think i’ll finally reveal my plans to make myself a less-shitty person than I was in 2015.

 

Though I love the person I’m developing into since my faith crisis, nose-dive into feminism, and increasingly curious mind, I find myself becoming exponentially more cynical, which is something I hate about myself.

I find myself often looking for reasons to be pissed off, which makes it really, REALLY hard to be the happy, energetic ball of sunshine I once aspired to become, but will never be, due to my chronically sarcastic and brazen personality. Indeed, since I’ve been exposed to a whole new world of liberalism, I seem to have the tendency to search for things that people do that strike me as problematic, and will consequently set me off.

There are specific groups of people that are extremely hard for me to get along with (i.e. meninists, anybody who still subscribes to traditional gender roles).  I totally feel justified in avoiding individuals who fall under this category completely, but I also feel that I am much too hard on people.

For example, my dating life is a literal train wreck. Most of my interactions with men are terminated by me giving them a lengthy, wordy lecture about how sexist it is to not be interested in a girl who can’t cook, or won’t send a racy snap-chat after the first date.

I feel like I’m constantly having to defend my feminist views; nothing flips my bitch-switch faster than when a gentleman i’m dating says anything that could be seen as sexist, even if you have to flip it upside down and squint with your left eye.

So i’m going to work on that. Perhaps instead of ripping his head off every time a suitor says something I don’t agree with, I can calmly present my point of view on the matter, and then change the subject as I squeeze the hell out of the stress ball I just bought.

This resolution’s due date might extend into 2063, but it’s all about progress, people.

Additionally, I am going to get out of my own way when it comes to relationships with other people. This is a very poorly-defined goal, but I have very specific quirks that I use in order to build sky-scraping walls around myself, thus protecting my isolation.

First of all, I have got to make peace with my relationship to food and to my body. I’m talking about my obsession/preoccupation about eating in a manner that will cause me dramatic weight loss, and dutiful, religious, nauseating exercise. When one is as engrossed in the aforementioned activities as I have become, there is little time or energy left to spend on stuff that matters significantly more, and after 6 years of eating-disordered behavior and body dysmorphia, I’m tired, damn it. And ready to invest myself in building some meaningful relationships and kicking ass even harder in school.

This problem is never going to resolve itself, so I’ll have to look back into going to therapy.

I always complain about how pathetic it is that I’ve attended my current university for two years, and haven’t made a single friend, but if I’m being honest with myself, I have never once initiated any kind of effort to make friend at college. So this year is going to be different. I am going to focus on becoming more inviting, friendly, and talkative. I am going to take some risks, start some conversations, hell, even ask out a hot guy from my Stats class (after checking his finger for a ring, obviously. We have lots of super young, married folk where I’m from.)

In addition to all of these resolutions, if I have time to spare, perhaps I’ll attempt to kick my caffeine addiction.

Just kidding, I’m taking 19 credit hours. There is no way in hell I’m decreasing my latte consumption.

So there you have it. An outline of how I am going to go from a shitty person in 2015 to a noticeably less-shitty person by the end of 2016.

Happy New Year!

M.

 

 

 

 

Authenticity

Posted in Feminism, humor, religion, strength, Uncategorized, women by

Are you still there?

Good. Cuz M is back, baby.

This past couple of months has been nothing short of crazy. First of all, I took on 18 credit hours of school, which literally killed me. I am dead inside, and my soul has been sucked away in a flurry of final exams, which completely kicked my ass.

Also, I switched my minor to neuroscience, and have made the executive decision to enter the medical field, and specialize in something super cool and prestigious, like brain surgery. (Grey’s Anatomy may or may not have slightly influenced this decision.) I discovered that my one true passion is neuroscience, and that the brain is by far the coolest and most badass organ in the human body.

So, school is going well.

Employment, however, is not going so well. Over the course of the Fall semester, I have held three different jobs. I spent a solid THREE WEEKS as a barista at my local coffee shop. I learned during this time that it takes more than an obsession with coffee to master the art of espresso-making. Additionally, I am really, really good at spilling liquids all over me, my coworkers, and my customers.

Job number two was as a receptionist in a mental health clinic. All I can say about that is that frankly, I don’t want to be a receptionist.

And job number three, which I am proud to report that I have held for 2 MONTHS, is being a sales associate at one of my favorite clothing stores. I love it and want to work there forever because first of all, I get an average of 4 hours to work a week, which makes my paychecks big enough for about a quarter of a Victoria’s Secret bra, and I also get a 40% discount on all clothing items, which I can’t afford because I never work.

Kidding, I have no desire to work retail any longer than I have to.

But what I really wanted to tell you all about is that I got a tattoo!

Tat

Do you LOVE it?

It’s the Hand of Fatima, which is symbolic of the “feminine holy hand.” It’s located on my upper side, which, I’ve been told, is the most painful place to get a tattoo.

I’ll have you know, though, that I didn’t even flinch. My tattoo artist said I took it like a champ, which I obviously am.

I’ve been wanting a tattoo for a long time now, and I feel like getting inked is my way of claiming my body as my own. I feel empowered to live authentically-It’s funny what a little permanent sticker can do to a person. Also, I want like 300 more of them.

So there’s a semi-decent update on what I’m doing with my little life lately. More to come soon.

Cheers!

M.

Dubious

Posted in religion by

I think it’s really important that when discussing women’s issues, we keep a safe space for men to express their concerns, as well. Don’t get me wrong, with some issues, I stick with the motto “No Uterus, No Opinion,” but in the interest of making the feminist movement as effective as possible, it only makes sense to get as many folks on board as we can.

In order to contribute to this idea, I have taken the liberty of interviewing a couple of male feminists to get a feel for what they find problematic in regards to the Church.

I am so blessed to have not just one but TWO feminist parents in my life. The first male feminist I interviewed is my dad, who, unfortunately, has not developed this viewpoint until recently, which meant that I suffered some blackmailing in order to attend and participate and comply with YW stuff as a teen.

The prompt I provided my interviewees is as follows: “As a father (or father to be) of a daughter in the YW program, what themes, if any, taught by the program strike you as problematic, and what will you do as a parent to ensure that these themes are not absorbed by your daughter?” 

“The first thing is how limited women are in the church. We are taught that a woman’s role is in the home raising children. Women who chose a career are guilt-ed into thinking they are being selfish for wanting a career. They are guilt-ed by the GA’s, local ward, friends and family. It is a cultural problem created from the top down. Women are being taught to be subservient to their husbands and that they can’t obtain eternal life without one. Our lesson manuals teach that and it is taught all the way up to the temple. Women can’t talk to God directly or covenant with God directly. They must do it through their Priesthood holding husbands. The problem is that most of these women are more worthy than their husbands in terms of keeping commandments, serving God, and being Christlike, but when it comes to rank in the church, they are not considered equal. As long as he [the husband] pays his tithing, he’s in good standing. But a woman who stays at home to raise the kids can’t have a recommend if her husband doesn’t pay tithing. Keep in mind this housewife has no income and cannot pay tithing, yet is punished because her man doesn’t pay tithing. Where is the equality in that?

“The church needs to teach that women can be anything they want to be. They should strive for education, strive for success professionally. They have so much to offer than this male-dominated society. Women are capable of amazing things but we as men are afraid of that, of losing control, just like the church is so they try and keep everyone in their little boxes and roles. I teach my kids they can be anything they want to be and should strive to be anything they want to be. God wants us all to be the best and most we can be, not just men. Women matter.”

My second interviewee is a colleague of my father’s who is married but has not had children yet. He had some insight to share on how he intends to raise his (hopefully) future daughters.

The first, focusing on a very specific role to define a women’s divine purpose, makes a young woman feel that if they aren’t wired with these exact traits or desires that something is wrong with them in the eyes of God. Even when a women has these desires, it makes them feel that this is the only thing essential to their happiness.  I do not wish the devalue the importance of being a mother and bringing and child into this world but I do NOT want my daughters – or anyone’s daughter- to feel that their eternal worth and overall happiness in this life is intrinsically linked to motherhood. If you want to have a career, you can still be an incredible mother. If you do not wish to have children or cannot have children for whatever reason, you still have the same divine purpose and value. If you do devote much of your life to being a mother and a homemaker, there are still other things you should seek after as well. Whatever makes you, YOU is your divine worth and using that to make this world a better place and enrich the lives of those around you is what makes you worthy in the eyes of God.  It all seems very simple but I hope to instill this in my children by encouraging them to find who they are and develop all the goodness in them into whatever type of individual that may be.

The second, which I think can be even more problematic, indirectly teaches women that they lack a fundamental connection, and have to rely on their husbands, fathers, brothers, bishops, or other “worthy” male influences in their lives for some divine inspiration and guidance. I hope to teach my future daughter(s) that she has a personal connection with God that is just as strong as mine. He will give her as much personal inspiration, guidance, and power to make decisions as he will to me or anyone else. Pray and receive inspiration. Ask your heart and your soul deep questions and God will direct you. The questions you have in this life, the inspiration you receive, and the decisions you make never have to be filtered through any sort of male counterpart. This ties back in with divine worth. Your worth in the eyes of God is equal no matter who you are or what path you decide to follow. Embrace all the goodness in you, develop who you are, make decisions for yourself, and know that God will empower you with as much inspiration as anyone to make this world a better place.

The most difficult part of your question is how do you teach these things in your children. My wife and I actually disagree on this because sometimes she thinks it isn’t possible. I try to remain optimistic that it is. Maybe we have trouble answering it because we haven’t experienced parenthood yet. But how am I going to  get my kids to believe something differently than what they hear in Sunday school and what most of their peers subscribe to? I would hope the answer lies in my ability to connect with my children and the trust they will have in me. I would also hope that I can always provide them with an environment that really encourages them to focus on developing into a unique and inspiring individual.  Be who you are and I promise there is as much happiness and divine worth available to that person as there is to anyone else in the world. I have to hope they can live that and find it for themselves.

Not that women’s issues require acknowledgement from men in order to be validated, but it is definitely encouraging that these issues are being recognized by more than just the oppressed.

Special thanks to my interviewees for contributing to today’s post. You guys are number one.

M.

Exclusion

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Can someone please point me to the part in the bible that says “Yea, forsake thy bretheren/sisteren who differ from thee”? Because I can’t seem to find it. Which is funny, because that’s the law that people seem to be living by these days.

It seems that the more I advocate for inclusion, the more excluded I become.

I feel like a plague or a parasite that people are protecting themselves from. Apparently if you drink coffee, wear tank tops, and think that all people deserve to be treated as equals, nobody will want to play with you. Even the people that have been in your life for years.

The more I think about it, though, the more it makes sense. Even in Primary, I remember having discussions about the importance of choosing good friends who have the same standards as you, which, where i’m from, meant that mormons stuck with other mormons for the most part.

I love mormonism, and I love the people within it. I don’t necessarily agree with everything in it, but I am doing the best I can. And it stings that through my well-known “struggle,” I am having to try my best all by myself.

Every Sunday, I sit through my meetings by myself and try my best to stay calm and keep an open mind, and return home either in tears or in a flurry of frustration or pain.

I can’t seem to find my tribe. Even through grade school, I’ve been in constant pursuit of finding a place to fit in. But now that i’m starting to figure out who and what I am, even the few people I though I had are turning their backs.

Not to rain on anyone’s parade, but I had to get this out there. I feel better already.

A Very Solitary M.

No Prorogation

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Today was YSA Stake Conference, which is when a large congregation made of sub-congregations meets to hear their regional and general leaders speak.

My solitary self arrived fifteen minutes early as instructed, and already, the parking lot and a quarter mile of the roads in either direction of the stake center were filled with cars.

I rushed into the chapel and chose a seat almost to the very back of the overflow, actively avoiding eye contact with others, and praying that i’d be left to sit alone for the duration of the meeting. Due to the overwhelmingly large number of attendees, we were all forced to sit shoulder-to-shoulder in order to accommodate everyone.

So there I was, sitting on a fold-up chair next to a red-headed gentleman in a sports coat with above-average singing capabilities, who probably came by himself, too.

To my delight, we avoided each other perfectly.

The fun thing about YSA anything is that the main goal is to get us all hitched. YSA Stake Conference is no exception. Our first speaker was our stake president, a man whom I love and respect. He counseled us to pray to find an eternal companion, and to not delay marriage. He then continued to emphasize that our biggest and most important decision in life is whom we choose to marry, which I agree with (if we decide to marry.)

This counsel seems contradictory to me for a couple of reasons. First off, if marriage is the most important decision we make in this life, why are we being told to rush it? Isn’t the universal advice to “sleep on it” when faced with big decisions?

Secondly, getting married complicates educational and career goals, especially for women in a lot of cases. My mom (whom i’d been texting throughout the meeting) told me that a woman in her ward told the story of how she’d achieved her dream of getting into medial school, but then she got engaged and gave it all up to raise a family. It breaks my heart to hear stories like this, because I don’t see why a person can’t pursue the career of their dreams and raise a family.

I do believe that it can be done, if timed and prioritized correctly.

This is not to say that I think that those who chose to get married young are wrong in doing so. We’re all individuals, and different circumstances yield different decisions.

I’ve been twenty for three days now, and at this stage in my life, I can’t imagine rushing much of anything, much less decisions of whom I choose to spend the rest of eternity with.

Hmmm.

M.