I was in a cult

Being a "Molly Mormon" means you were likely born in the church, by parents sealed in the temple, went to primary, baptized at 8, did four years of and graduated seminary, likely served a mission (if a man) and then went to Brigham Young University. I checked all those boxes, and then I checked many more...

I lost my virginity at 18, dropped out of BYU-I, became homeless, had my first sip of alcohol at 21. I didn't like it. Then I started wearing bikini's (the horror!)

Members of the this cult will tell that-that second list is what played a huge role in me leaving the church. They aren't completely wrong, all these things helped shape me into who I am -today. But they blame "Satan". If I wanted to be the human I am today- this is how it had to go. I just wish I didn't have to be so damn lonely along the way.

Being an 18- year old homeless female in eastern Idaho, having just dropped out of a mormon college, was mind blowing to my fellow mormon friends at my singles ward and people on BYU-campus. (A Singles ward= church congregation of non married, 18-35 year olds, yeah- it's a thing) Mind you, many people there found it very odd I didn't have a relationship with my father but none of my siblings really did at the time. My parents divorced when I was 9- and when I told people that they looked at me like I just described in morbid detail a murder or something. As if divorce was the worst thing that had happen in my life. But it was, because I too was mormon. My parents divorce was absolutely terrible. You could see the trepidation working in their minds, and they were reluctant to help me through my homelessness.

And they didn't.

I struggled fending for myself, from a sheltered, judgmental-self righteous way of life. My heart began to open when the people I thought so low of were the only ones who were helping me. My journey of self love began when I stepped out of the only love I knew- "god's love". I thought God's love was perfect, many other Christians will tell you it is and has always been. That debate is for another day. (or you can just see my blog about Love)

The family is one of the most critical principles with in Latter-Day Saint belief systems, Any breaks in it- meant a break in the norm, a break in the family, a break with you. In this case, a break in me. Indeed much was broken in me- things the Mormon god could not heal. I never realized being apart of a divorced family made me look so bad until I moved out west. Back at home the fact I was the only active member in my family had me on a pedestal. I was amazing, different, my testimony was unshakable. Attending church alone since the age of 12, sitting with widows and making friends with church leaders? I was on the path of being a celestial being living with my Heavenly Father. (my favorite way to describe my deity then) When I moved out west I realized that church was like the mall on Sunday's, full of people with nothing to do, and dressing up and getting out of the house because that's what everyone else was doing. Most of the people there didn't have the testimony I was carrying, I felt a lack of spiritual filling that I got back at home. I was in the land of the mormons, far away from family who grounded me from church when my depression and mental illness was too much for them to handle. Why didn't I feel happy?

I recall my first I-Night (freshmen orientation festivities). I went alone, I didn't travel to college with a friend, though I know many people from my home steak (a boundary of about 5 mormon church congregations) who was going to BYU-I, I hadn't known what track/semester though. I am extremely extroverted and I meet people easily, so I wasn't worried to go alone. It was like a movie,

I was walking backwards almost in a circle, taking in my surrounding in the main hall that had the cafeteria and many floors of entertainment. I figured I'd start with food. There was a loud hum of people chatting and standing in groups, music playing in the distance somewhere outside, when I backed into someone and almost knocked them over. I turned around to apologize and it was an old friend from home. I've known her since I've been at least 4 or 5 years old. Countless sleep overs, hair braiding, food, trick or treating, movie watching, girls camps, church activities- a smile lit my face when I gave her a giant hug! "Ashley?!" I squealed! I couldn't believe the first person I ran into was someone I knew!

Her face went smug, her body rigid, she reluctantly returned the hug. "Kirsten....?" She said in disbelief. She looked around as if confused, stepping briefly away from her circle of friends and said flatly "How did you get here?"

My face went red, I pretended I didn't hear her instant harshness while my excitement faded and I realized what she meant. Ashley and I hadn't talked for quite some time, she was very studious and was valedictorian in her High School. While I wasn't a valedictorian , BYU-I was the only one college I applied to, and here we both were. I said "ahh, by plane, I flew here!" with a shy, but trying to be funny-smile on my face, knowing that isn't what she meant. I had no idea one question could make me feel so small.

"I had no idea you applied here." She continued....I remember her mouth moving but not what else she said. I only remember her turning her back to me without another word, laughing to the conversation in her circle of assuming new room mates. No exchange of numbers or addresses. No hug goodbye. No chatting about what classes we would be in-in two days, to see if we had any of the same (doubtful). And my heart was in my throat choking back tears. I looked around, it didn't seem anyone else saw what happen. Of course they didn't, if they did they wouldn't think anything of it anyways. I walked away, alone, not knowing where I was or where I was going, just walking away.

I didn't enjoy the evening as I had hoped I would. Naturally I milked the rough start of a short conversation exchange and self sabotaged my evening from low and shakey self confidence. This was only the beginning of a mostly miserable adult life into Mormon culture.

This event was meerly two week before I dropped out/ kicked out from BYU. I lost my virginity to the man who later became my first love, two days later. I told my bishop what happen, and he gave me an ultimatum. Stop having sex, continue school. Or do as you please and drop out. Otherwise he would have to remove my ecclesiastical endorsement, aka what kept me at the Private school as a member of the church. I dropped out 12 days later.

The purity shaming that began from childhood gave me over whelming amounts of embarrassment and body dysphoria just for having sex, thinking about it or simply wanting it, but denying myself. I was now homeless and mostly jobless, as I had quit my summer job to take on 17 credits in 12 weeks (track) at BYU-I. I went from a student of a private religious prestigious university to homeless being treated like a criminal, for having sex. I never felt worthy enough, even though the Mormon church is a bit above par with what they teach about how worthy you are of god's love. Many other denominations say we are complete shit without god. I say we are shit with or without. But being mormon was all I knew...

Contrary to popular belief of people leaving their churches and never coming back- people like me, with testimony, drive, and loyalty to a faith I was born into, do not leave on quarrels with other members. We leave from a lack of or change of belief and faith. When I didn't get along with people enough I'd simply worship in another congregation, but I never left. Until my heart changed. . .

09/2015 After Relief society with one of my favorite sister Missionaries who I became very good friends with. <3

Being an ex Mormon isn't exactly the best club to belong to, but it signifies change and growth! When my friends told me I belonged to a cult I didn't believe them. That word hurt me, it was meant to, it was insulting. I was offended, I still am sometimes, which is one of the reasons why I'm writing this blog. I raised myself in a gosh damn cult?! It still is mind blowing. I always justified it with "Well cult just means any organized religion". Yeah, well old Kirsten has grown and I'm so glad I'm learning to un-wire that brainwashing.

My growth started with many emotions, over many years, and it is getting better. Less anger, more contentment. Being in the mormon church I got so much ridicule by my fellow Christians. Even simply being called Mormon was an insult. My heart how intent they were to dismiss any light, truth and love I had to offer because I was a member of this church, instead of letting me share my faith and what made me happy. I learned it didn't matter what church or religion you believed in, there are shitty people everywhere and not to let your preconceived notion of a denomination judge the individual in front of you.

So what makes this a cult? To me it's when your passion drive and obsession becomes unhealthy and often hurts you and others around you. Many will disagree that a church or love of a diety can hurt people. But many have killed in the name of god, many still do. I know I've intentionally said and done hurtful things in his name too. Because what I said was right! But was it? When I prayed more and strengthen my individual relationship with god, I moved away from the Mormon faith. Even though I continued attendance, nothing else felt quite right yet, and something about the temple felt so nice, and no other church had that or believed in that. On my journey to improve my self awareness through independent thinking, that was encourage by the mormon church that teaches gaining your own testimony and not relying on others, I went searching in church history and found the CES letter. I have it hyper linked for you viewing pleasure. In it was unanswered questions I too had about doctrine that was and wasn't being taught. This was not always the fault for the ordinary Sunday school calling. But something were simply neglected.

Much like what is taught at church on Sunday in the Mormon church "All churches have truth" - even though they taught it had the fullness of the gospel; the Mormon church has some very key concepts of family and love I haven't seen anywhere else. But god isn't for me. (See Lower Case g) And I was in a cult. I brainwashed myself to get away from my family on the weekends since they no longer went. It was my getaway. I gained a "testimony" and truly believed what I was learning. I dove deep into love for my heavenly father. When we broke up it hurt. I'm still finding my way and rediscovering new light and life. It took years not to hate myself or my body anymore for its natural and intended desires and needs. It took years to unlearn hateful bigotry and prejudiced I had towards my fellow LGBTQIA+ members. I didn't loose faith. I packed it up put it in a cardboard box, tapped it, labeled it "god" and put it in my closet. It will come with me for now as I move along this life. It's sentimental; It's gathering dust even. But that box isn't going to be open again. And I'm at peace with that.