Coming out as Mormon… and then post-Mormon

[Below is a social media post I made in August of 2020 after hiding my Mormon upbringing for decades. In order to move forward with my own spiritual and personal growth, I had to “include and transcend.” It’s a process, I’m still working on all of this. Many of my friends and colleagues had no idea, several of them are active Mormons.

… It also happens to make a nice introduction to my blog. Here:]

D. Todd Christofferson is my uncle. Elder Christofferson’s wife Kathy is my mom’s little sister. To me, they are “Uncle Todd & Aunt Kathy.”

If you know who he is, you might care to know that I am Mormon, meaning I’m a descendant of 170+ years of Mormon ancestry and culture. I was born into an orthodox Mormon family in Provo, Utah. Our heritage goes back to the first years of the Mormon migration. Ephraim Knowlton Hanks, a folk hero of the church is a great-grandfather of mine. Many of my beloved are all-in members of the church and I love and respect them (you) all. I claim my Mormon past as a part of my history, and a significant part of who I am.

As a young adult, I left the church emotionally and intellectually. For 16 years I remained a member by name only, without setting foot in church. In 2003 I finally resigned my membership in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. In 2018 I was baptized & confirmed into the Episcopal Church after 28 years of being non- and somewhat anti-religious.

It may be difficult to understand why I’m saying this today after all these years. The short answer is: being open about my past has become necessary for my personal spiritual and psychological growth. The shame and social trauma I experienced leaving the church kept me silent for three decades. I knew of no support groups for people who doubted their faith in Utah Valley in the 80’s and 90’s (no internet). Those who doubted or left the church lived in the shadows of the culture, it was very lonely. Leaving the church may have been the most courageous thing I’ve ever done. I have the right to talk about it.

 If you are a friend, and can no longer call yourself my friend, I understand. If you are family, I’m sorry for any hurt this may cause you. Again, I understand. I mean no harm; my only motive is that of healing. I wish you all love, contentedness, and peace.