Stop Labeling Me Anti-Mormon

I’ve been thinking a lot about the term anti-Mormon and why it doesn’t sit well with me as a post-Mormon person. Oftentimes when someone leaves the church, the responsibility for maintaining the peace and keeping everyone comfortable in interfaith relationships falls on the person who left. Frequently, this looks like post-Mormons mitigating, minimizing, and even censoring their experiences in the church and after leaving. They may only talk about the church in positive or neutral terms, or they may not talk about the church at all. In this way, it is only the active members' feelings which are being prioritized and protected. When post-Mormons dare to speak openly and honestly about their faith transitions, we are regularly labeled anti-Mormon. We are made to feel as if our lived experiences are inherently harmful and hurtful to our believing loved ones. The diminishment of real, painful experiences and feelings is deeply isolating to those of us who have left. We feel our views and insights are seen as insignificant or worse, untrustworthy. We are convinced that expressing our hurt or sharing our perspectives is spewing negativity or acting hatefully. We are told that asking to be seen as our whole selves is asking too much. That the reality of our existence is anti-the existence of those we love.

There's a frequent refrain that if post-Mormons are happy with their decision to leave they should move on and "leave the church alone". This sentiment expects post-Mormons to erase the significant impacts of the church (both good and bad) overnight. For many of us, Mormonism is the framework through which we learned about the world. Mormonism was the answer to our first existential questions about death, life, meaning, and truth. It informed our self-worth and the worth assigned to others. It was the foundation for our moral reasoning, our sense of right and wrong. Such profound influence on our lives and development will not vanish with our change of beliefs. It takes years of therapy and self-reflection to begin rewiring our brain circuitry to view the world outside of the Mormon perspective. This viewpoint also ignores the reality that for many post-Mormons, Mormonism continues to affect our day-to-day lives. It may be the predominant faith of our families, our communities, our friends. If you live in Utah, it impacts politics and the educational system. For those of us with predominantly believing families, there are consistent and persistent reminders of our exclusion. I will likely be unable to see my brothers' marriages. Baptisms, blessings, and mission farewells are reminders that I am different, that I chose the "wrong" path according to the faith of my loved ones. I am constantly navigating this hurt and exclusion.

I am fortunate that my nuclear family, especially my mom, have worked through their own discomfort and created space for my full self. I can express my grief and sadness openly. Sitting at a baptism hearing loved ones profess pride for the family member being baptized, I began to cry. Would my family feel the same pride for my future children who will not be baptized? Would my prospective children feel lesser than their Mormon cousins? Gratefully, I could express all of my fears and hurt to my mother and she responded with a resolute "Of course I will be proud". The ability to be seen and validated by active family has been profoundly healing. However, such open discourse remains far too rare. Many families refuse to accept or embrace the wholeness of their post-Mormon family members. They enact a "don't ask, don't tell" policy, which silences post-Mormons' lived experiences and shuts down the possibility for repair. Many, many of my post-Mormon friends live in a space of tension and repression with their active family and friends. They feel they must hide their authentic selves. They feel their families will never truly know them. They are hurting and they yearn for reconciliation.

The irony is that the term anti-Mormon is often aimed at post-Mormons because our views and experiences cause active members discomfort or hurt; Yet these "anti-Mormon" views are frequently expressions of post-Mormons' own hurt and discomfort. I should not have to deny my religious wounds for someone else’s comfort. And they should not have to deny their religious belief for me. I should not have to hide facets of my life for acceptance, and neither should they. I am not anti-Mormon because my beliefs differ. I am not anti-Mormon because I had negative experiences with the church. I am not anti-Mormon because I disagree with aspects of Mormon doctrine. Just as I am not anti-vegetarian because I stopped eating a vegetarian diet, I am not anti-Mormon because I stopped following the Mormon-faith. If you instinctively label post-Mormons' opinions, experiences, ideas, or viewpoints about the church as anti-Mormon, take some time to sit with your feelings. Is what was said actually spiteful or unkind, or are you uncomfortable with disagreement? Did someone insult you and your beliefs unjustly or was their critique valid but different from your own viewpoint? Discomfort and disagreement do not equate to disrespect. There is a better way forward through tolerance and love where all peoples' existences can be valued, respected, and witnessed in interfaith relationships.