Not that there are comments on my blog anyway (3 loyal followers, that might mean I'm questioning your existence), but brace yourselves for a personal entry, potentially filled with frustration and mirth.
I get frustrated with school. I get frustrated with people. Hell, I get ridiculously frustrated with the media, politics and media politics. All those things aside, I find that my levels of frustration are well within the normal bounds of average humanity. The one exclusion: The LDS Church.
Currently, I'm so frustrated, preoccupied and brain-dead, that I'm sitting behind my laptop, blogging to a seemingly empty Internet (excluding porn, since that makes up like 90% of the internet) as I watch "Child's Play" for the first time in my life. Despite the questionable acting, generic script and notably outdated effects, I'll admit that I was honestly jumpy and suspended until Chucky fully came to life on camera. Then it became a comedy. God, how I long for the 80s sometimes.
Anyway, I've been reading a bit about Brigham Young, and I have to say he was never a man of whom I was too horribly fond. After reading a sermon from his journal of discourses, I like him even less. In what I believe to be a therapeutic statement, I may even go as far as to call him an asshole.
Also, how does a 3lb. doll have the weight, strength and force to strangle a full grown man with a pair of heavy-duty insulated cables? And where did Chucky pick up that butcher knife? The cop doesn't seem stupid enough to just keep one in his back seat...
But back to my point: I go to read things like that (seriously, get acquainted with Brigham Young's wives and you'll wonder how he got a University named after him) to remind myself why I left the church. The church leaders have a consistent track record for only one thing of which I am aware: planting preconceptions of why people leave the church. One of the most common supposed reasons is rebellion. We leave because being Mormon is too hard. In a way, that's true, but it's not that I got lazy or just wanted to rebel (and yes, my sister genuinely thought for a while that I left just to spite our parents. It's been oodles of fun). I left because I was lied to, because I was tired of ignoring my common sense, tired of defending something that gave me nothing but disappointment and rejection in return. It gets exhausting and lying to yourself about existential things that affect the very fabric of your existence is indeed hard.
Unfortunately, when your entire family is Mormon, LDS inc. is the gift that keeps on-a-givin'. I want to live with my partner, but "it will break [my mother's] heart," because it's against church values. We're already living together anyway, just not formally. But fine; I want to elope because I'm plenty ready to be married to my partner and I want to live with him. BUT, "it will break [my mother's] heart." The place I pay rent for is both uncomfortable and unwelcoming. My roommate informed me that having a roommate is beneath her. But I have to stay in this situation because of the arbitrary values of a bunch of old white men in suites. My parents want me to have an actual wedding with actual people in an actual wedding dress.
I just want to fucking get married. And frankly, I don't want my family there. Whenever we talk about it, there's the comment "Of course we want you to get married in the temple but we're still happy for you. We still want to share that with you." In other words, "Congratulations on your honorable mention." I honestly don't want a wedding. I'm weird, I know, but I've NEVER wanted a big wedding. I've always wanted the minimum, because for me, it's about being married, not getting married.
I'm very private about my relationships, especially intimacy. The level of emotional intimacy I need to trust some one enough to commit to them for the rest of my life is not something I want to make a spectacle out of. It's my private business and I'll share it with my partner, thank you very much. That's just my style. I watched my extended family bitch about my cousin's wedding. Yes, his wife is a little high maintenance, but the elitist, "this is second-rate" attitude was palpable. I don't want any of that "It's not in the temple but it's still nice" bullshit ruining the happiest day of my life. It's a wonderful, damnit, and that's it. No buts about it.
So to summarize, my options that don't "break my [mother's] heart" are: 1. continue paying overpriced rent for a shack where I'm not welcome in order to satisfy the values of a bunch of men who don't know me or deserve my respect, 2. uh... well, I guess there's just the one. Nothing about this is fair.
Oh, did I mention the quote from my dad: "We'd rather you elope to city hall with a JoP and than move in together."
...But if I elope they'll be heartbroken. Because they'll miss my honorable mention wedding.
The old biggots in white suits are still dictating my happiness. Awesome.
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