Growing up in Draper, Utah everyone asked you which ward of the LDS church you were in; as if they were asking you what your favorite color was. I never thought it was weird, mostly because I was raised in the LDS church and commonly referred to myself as a ‘mormon’. I liked rules as a child, and always enjoyed playing things safe so I never thought to question a church my parents raised me in. Not even when my older brother got his girlfriend pregnant in high school. It felt strange, feeling the judgmental stares from all your neighbors who used to treat you as their equal. Even then, I didn’t question the church.
Things eventually got better when one of my youth leaders, Emma Johnson made it her job to make me feel equal and important not only at church on Sunday but every day of the week. I was starting to feel as if I belonged to the church I grew up in again which was a safe-comforting feeling. I didn’t miss any church activities anymore, and got really involved. I strived to be like Emma every day, and couldn’t wait until I could be a youth leader and change someone’s life the way she changed mine.
Below is a story down my own memory lane revealing the trigger that made me leave the church. I feel inclined to warn you, it is not a humorous or up lifting story.
I stared out the car window, and fiddled with the towel on my lap. It was my senior year of high school and I was stuck in the backseat of my ex boyfriend’s car; watching him hold hands with my best friend, Tara. It wasn’t enough that she had sex with my older brother a few months ago behind my back, but naturally she also needed my ex-boyfriend. Please don’t ask me how I find myself in these situations, I wish I could tell you the night got better.
The only reason I agreed to go was because Caleb Townsen was also riding in the car to seven peaks with us. I had been low-key obsessed with Caleb for three years. So I bit the bullet and put a smile on as I sat shoulder to shoulder with Caleb in my ex’s car.
“Ugh, it’s my aunt.” Tara said. “Sorry, guys just a second.”
I tried not to roll my eyes in the back seat, but everything she said got under my skin lately.
“What are you talking about?” Tara asked her aunt. “Fine, calm down I’ll be home soon.”
Now I was really irritated. If her aunt made her go home then there was no way I was going swimming with my ex and the man of my dreams without her.
“Sorry, do you guys mind stopping at my Aunt’s house really quick?” She asked.
Guilt seeped in my stomach as the car turned around. I did feel bad her parents were so shitty that she was forced to live with her Aunt.
As we pulled up to her house the whole family was out on the front lawn standing in a circle. I watched as Tara walked up to her Aunt then seconds later fell to the floor sobbing. Looking back on it I probably should have gotten out of the car and comforted my friend, but I just sat there- frozen. A few moments later she ran toward the car, and slid into the front seat.
“Drive,” She said.
“Tara, what happened?” I asked,
She didn’t even turn around to face me when she said, “Emma Johnson shot herself today. She didn’t leave a note or anything, just shot herself.”
I let the words linger in the air around me, not letting them touch anything deeper than the surface. I didn’t cry until the viewing.
Her face was different.
I didn’t look at her for very long before everything in the room fell silent, as if I just submerged myself underwater. I pictured being up at girl’s camp with her, she was the only reason I ever agreed to go. The tall aspen trees created a sanctuary. The more I thought about it the more I realized how Emma never talked to me about the church. I remember her laugh, and how she always asked me about my current crushes, how my brother was doing with his new baby, and my thoughts about it; but I can’t remember a single conversation we had together where she was preaching the gospel to me.
The whispers began the following Sunday.
‘My wife has depression, I don’t want her thinking it is acceptable to do what Emma did.’
‘Do you think she knew how big of a sin it was to commit suicide before she did it?’
That was the first day I felt fury inside the church walls. I soon came to realize there were quite a few things I did not agree with my religion about. At first I was worried to fall away from the church with no one to catch me and bring me back. I soon realized that Emma didn’t catch me, she taught me how to stand.
That day repeats in my head occasionally, whether I’m with a group of friends or falling asleep at night. Sometimes I wonder whether I would have researched the church on my own, and created my own beliefs and opinions if that memory never happened. Every ache I feel about that moment screams that I would have, and that the day should have stayed in the world of nightmares. The only good thing about nightmares, is that you always wake up and your day has no choice but to become better.