Wednesday, September 13, 2023

Faith Transition: A Lonely Experience

 Having your religious foundation crumble and entering a faith crisis/transition can be one of the loneliest experiences in a person's life. This is especially true for those who have been an active member of a high demand religion, where much of your life and identity is wrapped up in the religion, and where your "community" of family and friends may be mostly (or even entirely) within that religious tradition. You not only lose the feelings of security and surety that your former religious beliefs brought, but may also lose the closeness of relationships that were intertwined with the church. In worst-case scenarios, you may lose your actual family and friends because you no longer share their beliefs or fit in with their community. 

I am in a support group for persons going through faith transitions, as well as a member of some similar groups on Facebook, and listening to (or reading) so many personal experiences of being rejected or shunned by family and friends, I count myself extremely lucky. I don't think most church members realize how scary and stressful it is for most people in a faith crisis/transition to come out to family and friends about it. Although there are no explicit rules in the LDS faith to shun or reject those who leave, the message has somehow gotten through that membership in the church and belief in its doctrine is required in order to be a good spouse, family member, or friend. Even those who try hard not to let a family or friend's change in beliefs affect the relationship still often end up acting differently toward them. At best, they might just create a bit of distance emotionally or not have the ability/desire to ask and listen to their family/friend's experiences. Sadly, it's often much worse. I've heard of people whose families have vacations with all members of their family except theirs, just because they are no longer associated with the church. Others have told of how their families actively avoid letting their children play with their cousins, because they might be a bad influence on them. One of the most painful things I keep hearing is of spouses who are counseled by church leaders to leave their spouse because of the change in religious beliefs, or the inability to remain in a marriage with differing beliefs. I've also seen and heard of many women who question everything about their marriage because they were taught to look for "righteous priesthood holders" but not taught to look for emotional, intellectual, or sexual compatibility. Leaving the church is a lot more than just no longer believing or attending. It all too often comes at major costs to the one leaving, and can make you question every aspect of your life, because the church is generally enmeshed in almost every aspect. 

I have been exceptionally lucky (some might say blessed) that I have not experienced much of this rejection. Granted, I haven't made it totally clear to many of my friends and church community that my beliefs have changed so drastically, and if I ever do, I can see some people dropping me like a hot potato. I have others who I *think* would still accept me and recognize that I'm still the same person I always was at my core, but there's always that nagging doubt about how close the relationship could really remain if I don't share something that affects nearly every aspect of their life. I already feel the loss of "community" that comes from just being together with the same people week after week. But, thankfully, most of the people that I'm closest to are in the same position as me. My sister, mom, husband, daughter, son-in-law and one close friend have all left the church within the past 2-3 years. I want to make it clear that  none of these family members or friends ever tried to influence me or even share things that might have made me question my faith. The LDS church itself is what precipitated my faith crisis. 

I am so grateful that I have enough people I can talk to openly, who understand what the transition is like, and who can empathize with me. I can be accepted for who I am with them, and it's not dependent in the least on whether or not I attend church, have certain beliefs, live a certain lifestyle, or fit in with their idea of what a "good" person should be like. I can't tell you how freeing that is. To no longer feel the need to live up to a whole bunch of man-made expectations of how I should live my life, to no longer feel the need to "fit in" (which isn't belonging!) and to no longer feel the need to look or act a certain way because of the worry of judgment or shaming is glorious. 

I know there will be some who say that no one is actually required to be a certain way in the LDS religion, but I can tell you from experience that it takes one heck of a strong person, who is completely self-differentiated, self-confident, or just oblivious to be themselves and not fit the mold (or they end up on the fringes or being known as "that sister/brother.") I've lived on both coasts and in the south and north, in at least 10 different wards, and in none of those did I ever feel that people were free to fully embrace who they were. I did have feelings of fitting in and even belonging, but there was always an undercurrent of expectation that I needed to do the "right" things in order to receive that. (There were those rare souls who did provide moments of true belonging, but that wasn't the norm.) This isn't meant as a criticism against the many, many wonderful Mormons I've known and loved over the years. I fully understand why it is the way it is. And most don't even realize the extent of the implicit rules that permeate their belief. I lived it for almost 50 years, and was one of those who was "all in," so I get it. What's hard is that I can understand where members are coming from (and even sympathize with them), because I was so recently there with them, but they will never be able to understand where I am coming from unless/until they are on the outside looking in also. That by itself makes this a lonely place to be. 

And yet, I wouldn't trade it for the world. 


1 comment:

Stephanie said...

I love you no matter what. ❤️ And maybe that's not the "right thing" to say, but my friendship with you has never been based on our shared belief system. That just happens to be how we met. I hope that you can continue to offer me the same consideration, even when we can't empathize with all of each other's traumas. You've been through plenty that I can't ever claim to "understand", and vice versa. But I understand grief and shame and identity crises. Doesn't entirely matter where they originated.