The Final Entry

This post has been a long time coming. I plan on some very negative repercussions. Even so, I am compelled to write it.

As a young mother I learned exactly how some LDS Bishops protect abusers. I know this because I had multiple bishops protect me and not report me. You see, as a young mother who lived with depression that manifested as anger, I was rather violent. You could even talk to some of my friends from high school and find out that I was given to violent outbursts at times.

After a violent outburst in where I struck my young child and left bruises, I went to my bishop to confess. He gave me some scriptures to read and gave me a blessing. I had fully expected to be released from my calling as a Primary President, but he didn't think it was necessary. My husband at this time was fully aware of these violent outbursts of mine. He told me to make sure that the bruises were never visible and then just let things happen (a few times it happened in front of him).

A couple of years went by and things weren't changing. In fact, they had gotten worse. Oddly enough, I had been turned in by someone to Child Protective Services for neglect because my house was dirty (3 kids under the age of 4 and I was severely depressed). My kids weren't being neglected according to state definition. My house just needed to be cleaned a little better. But this was a wake up call for me. A new bishop had been called. As a faithful member I went to him and confessed. He admitted he wasn't trained to deal with these situation (along with me trying to face my own abuse which had been physical and sexual). I was referred to a therapist.

This therapist was a life saver in many ways. He had me see a doctor to get on antidepressants. This did so much for me when it came to the anger. I also learned a lot of coping skills. However, I did not tell him I had been physically abusing my own children for fear of them being taken from me. When I signed the agreement to be treated it included a caveat that if someone was in danger from me that the authorities would be notified. So I never said anything.

There were times after this that the anger and violence would reemerge. I would see a doctor and get my medications adjusted. But I still hadn't dealt with the fact I was an abusive parent. Not until my divorce did I speak to a therapist about the abuse. He was so helpful and taught me what to do when I felt that urge to strike out come on. He also recommended that I attend a parenting course run by Child Protective Services.

It was this course that solidified a change in me. I learned how to be the kind of parent I should have been all along. I sat in a class where I was the only parent there voluntarily. Everyone else had been court ordered to attend the class. I expressed my past behaviors and desire to never be that person again. This change has not been easy.

Between the classes, therapy, and medication I was able to change who I was as a parent. But I cannot help thinking that if that first bishop had followed protocol and contacted the police then my 2 oldest children would never have experienced as much abuse as they did. In fact, my oldest took the brunt of it and it has all but destroyed our relationship at this point. You see, my 2 oldest children no longer speak to me. I am the toxic person they have had to cut off...and it hurts.

I can blame the fact that I was raised with a father given to violent outbursts and a mother who sat back and let it happen. But that is just creating a scapegoat. In all honesty, it was me. It was me feeling trapped in a marriage and not valued as a person. It wasn't physical violence that I experienced at the hands of a spouse (until I threatened to call the cops). It was me. It was my choice. I knew that I was making the wrong choice, yet I continued to make it. There is only one person to blame...ME.

Now I don't write this for sympathy or for someone to help me find the excuses for my choices. I write it because too many people have said to quit blaming bishops for not reporting abuse. Too many want these men to be blameless in the process. They aren't. If an abuser comes to you to confess then it is time to turn them in. Don't protect them. When you do protect them you only make matters worse.

If I could turn back time and change things I would. I tell people I have no regrets, but I do. I regret ever hurting my children, whether it was physically, mentally, or emotionally. It is wrong. I'm also aware that my children can still press charges against me and am almost anticipating it at this point. More than anything I want my children to be happy and healthy.

The odd part to all of this is that a few years ago a now ex-boyfriend and his spiteful family reported me twice for physically abusing my children. My children were all interviewed and told the worker that it may have been true at one point but that I did not ever hit them. They even said the only parent who hit them was their dad and that was in the form of a spanking. When I was finally being a decent parent I was accused. When I was an abusive parent I was seen as a good parent. 

If you know of an abuser, don't sit back and do nothing. Step forward and say something. If you are an abuser, seek help that isn't in the form of talking with your bishop. If you speak to a therapist they can help you. If you are there to stop the abuse they can work with you and help you all. Most of all, remember if you are the abuser, that you still have inestimable worth. People love you and want to see you become a better person.

Some day I hope the relationship can be restored between my children and myself. If that never happens, then it never happens. It will always hurt, but I will move forward. This needed to be written. This needed to be out there. I'm not the woman I was at 18, 19, 20, or even 30. I've learned and changed. However, the consequences will need to be faced. And it looks as if that time is now.

It is my own behavior and choices that have caused me to support Protect LDS Children. It is knowing that the current system fails and change needs to happen. I can't go back and change anything. I can't change what I did. I'm not asking for forgiveness from anyone except those I've harmed. And even in doing so I accept that forgiveness will never come. I accept that I have zero right to ever be in my childrens lives again.

To my children, please know that you are loved beyond measure. If I could go back and protect you from the hurt I've caused then I would. Please know that you will forever be in my prayers and you will always be my heart. Love, Mom

This blog will stay up but I will no longer be writing. Thank you to all who have been loyal readers especially as writing became sporadic.

What's Wrong with the Name?

This week "The Church" released a revelation regarding the name by which they are called. No more should members refer to themselves as LDS or Mormons, but Latter-Day Saints or members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. The press release stated that Mormon is ok as part of a title, i.e. Book of Mormon, or descriptor, but not as a term to describe the religion.

So why the big to-do over a name. Especially now? After all even Shakespeare has written about names. Yet if you ask someone who has changed their name, they can tell you that a name means everything. When I divorced my first husband I had the right to change my surname back to my maiden name. This hurt my ex and elated my dad. When I remarried I considered not taking my husband's name and this hurt him. He wanted to know why I would consider not sharing his family name. When I dropped my maiden name my dad was again hurt. I told my dad that "once a Facer always a Facer" even if my legal name didn't state that name.

When my son came out as transgender and changed his name I was caught between loving the name he gave himself and mourning the name I gave him at birth. As I thought about it I remembered that my son had also participated in a naming ceremony when we lived near a reservation. Through his love and respect for the tribe he was given an indigenous name. It is a name he still holds dear.

Then my youngest came forward as non-binary and chose a name that is non-gendered. Again I was troubled by them changing the name I chose for them, but I care more about their self esteem than about them changing their name.

In both these cases my children changed their names as a way to honor who they are becoming. It was to show the growth they are experiencing in their lives. Because of this I honor who they are. This isn't to say there haven't been times when I've misspoken and used the wrong name or pronoun. In fact, their names are also similar in some ways to the names I chose for them.

All of this name stuff led me to think about the fact that my faith community also went through a name change. They ceased to be the Reorganized Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints and became Community of Christ. This name change was to show where they are going. It also helped to further disassociate them from the LDS Church. I wasn't a member during this time so I can't speak to what member thought. I do know that there was a divide and not everyone agreed with the change. But this change has moved them forward.

Why do I bring all of this up? Well the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints isn't going through some grand name change. In fact, they are doubling down on their name. They are saying they want their name choice respected. Yet they are unwilling to respect the name choice of those in the transgender community. They are saying they don't want to be called by their 'nicknames' anymore, but they themselves promoted the nickname of Mormon 4 years ago.

As a child, my nickname was Shanny Shoes. Some still call me this, but not many. For a long time this name was an embarrassment. Now it is a joy to be called by this name. It may not embrace who I am right now, but it embraces a part of who I was. It embraces part of my life journey. Nicknames are fun. They are terms of endearment. They aren't typically thought of as disrespectful.

So what's in a name? Names only have the power you give them. In the world of Doctor Who no one, save River Song, knows the name of the Doctor. In that universe the name Doctor has different means depending on how he/she has been seen by a certain society. Doctor typically denotes healer to many, but to others it denotes warrior.

As I have pondered (not ponderized because that word is ridiculous) this issue of name I've come to realize that this issue the LDS Church is having with their name has nothing to do with a new direction but doubling down. Here's the thing, until this press release when someone googled 'Mormon' or 'LDS' the website for Protect LDS Children came up as one of the first hits. Since the press release it can take up to a couple of pages before you find the website. Also buried now is Mormon Stories. Two websites that have gotten a lot of attention. Two websites that show the LDS Church in a less than glowing picture. Proof that the church is not perfect, and is actually seriously flawed.

I don't buy, not even for a moment, that this has anything to do with a revelation. This is more of the frantic ramblings of a group of frustrated old men. They see something they want but can't name. they can't get their hands on it. So they are resorting to misdirection. They are like the spoiled child who suddenly isn't getting attention. This is nothing more than a childish temper tantrum. As for me, they will always be called the Mormons or LDS Church.