conversion

The Hardest Accomplishment

I had to call a friend and cancel plans, but I took the chance to catch up with her. As we talked we brought up writing, and she mentioned an article I wrote for a website.

She said she had been on a website for people who love to knit and there was a thread (pun intended) for Mormons. Someone discussed being afraid to join because of their family and before my friend had a chance another person shared my article.

I was surprised, but then again I shouldn’t have been. When I wrote the article, well, I just knew it was something Heavenly Father needed shared…

It was Christmas break and my friend Blake who co-owns the Millennial Mormons website was complaining about lack of new material for the site because of the busy holidays. I had wanted to write about Mormon women needing to attain higher education, so I volunteered my services. Blake was just desperate enough to take me up on my offer, and I began to write.

As I sat at home trying to write I couldn’t get my piece started. I had the story worked out in my head but it just wasn’t getting out. Then, I had an impression that distinctly said, “You have another story to tell.” I wrestled with the impression for a moment until I realized that I did have a story that needed to be told.

I began to write about what happened when I first became Mormon. A lot of people have heard my story, but not like how I was about to share it. For once I was giving the whole truth from beginning to end. To say there were a few tears shed during the writing process would be an understatement.

As I wrote the article I knew it was going to help people but there could be a downside as well. Sharing my most personal experience and hardship wasn’t easy, especially when I knew some people would not be able to understand why I did the things I did.

But somehow through my fear and concern I wrote everything out. I said a prayer and submitted it to Blake, I was afraid he was going to reject it, but surprisingly he said he liked it. We made a few minor edits and published it just a day before my 24th birthday.

I was surprised by the reaction to my article. I had numerous friends show support and the article was picked up by another prominent Mormon website as well.

It’s been a few months but every once in a while I go back and read the article. I’m still surprised at what I wrote, but then again I really think I had some Heavenly help with the writing.

So here is the article. It was by far the hardest thing I have ever written, but it certainly has become one of my greatest achievements in life.

How to handle family opposition after becoming mormon
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Can’t Go Back

The ache for home lives in all of us, the safe place where we can go as we are and not be questioned.- Maya Angelou

Being yourself is one of the most important, and most difficult things a person can do. For years growing up it killed me to fit into the mold of what my dad wanted from me. When I finally moved away and became Mormon I finally started to understand what it meant to be happy and since then I’ve never done anything but be myself.

This past weekend my niece Lawfanduh (or Evelyn as her birth certificate forces me to say) was getting blessed (dedicated) at our homeward in Grand Island. Things have been going really well between my dad and I so I even volunteered to come to Mass with him and my other siblings prior to Lawfanduh’s blessing.

The service was nice and all, and it was bitter-sweet to be there in a nostalgic way.

As the service finished and I began to chat with people I realized everyone there assumed I was Catholic too (though you’d think the fact that I was in a nice skirt would make it obvious that I’m not). Everyone in the congregation knows my dad and siblings, and they may remember me being there growing up. Plus I know for sure my dad would never broadcast to people that any of his children are Mormon, so most of the people I talked to later would just assume I was going to one of the congregations in Omaha.

I wanted so badly to completely explain to everyone that I wasn’t Catholic, but for the sake of keeping things kosher with my dad I just kind of avoided answering any church questions.

Leaving that church I realized I could probably never move back to my hometown if they’d think of me as Catholic. If I came back home like I’ve always wanted to I’d have to spend all my time clearing up that I’m not Catholic. Worse, eventually people would probably find out how my dad treated us growing up, and especially how he treated me when I converted. My dad is not a bad person, but I’ve never told anyone how he was without them concluding that my dad must be a terrible person. I can only imagine what would happen if people in our hometown knew how he had really been like, and sometimes still is.

Later that morning when I saw my niece be blessed I was just thankful to be someplace I knew I belonged. It just tore me up to think that I’ll only get to be a visitor when I go home  and never get to stay.