I'm going to be honest, because I don't know what else to do. I apologize in advance because this wont be eloquent, and it won't be pretty. A ton has changed since I last wrote. I've left BYU. I've left the church, and i've come out publicly. All fantastic, wonderful things. And I thought making all these changes, cutting ties with the oppressive system of BYU and the LDS church, FINALLY being able to be me with out looking over my shoulder every minuet of every day, I thought after all that I could finally be happy. I expected that my life would start looking better for me, maybe I would be able to see life in a more vibrant, beautiful way. Somehow, outside of the church, the world looks even darker. The world is a mess. People are killing each other, killing us, and nothing is changing. The world seems like its been thrust into some hellish nightmare built on hate and intolerance. Orlando, Black lives matter, Dallas, five suicides in five days. Friends and relatives fighting tooth and nail for their damn weapons while the bodies continue to pile up, oblivious to the pain being caused.
Whats worse? God is no where to be seen.
Ever since my mission I've felt nothing. No love from this so-called loving Heavenly Father. My alleged constant companion has left me, not intermittently, but permanently since I returned from my mission. No amount of prayer, fasting, tears or curses has changed that. And I want to make something clear, this isn't since leaving the church. This has been since I returned from my mission three years ago. Like God used me for his divine purpose then discarded me like trash. I don't understand it. I'm not perfect, but I've tried damn hard. I spent over twenty years in the closet, trusting God to fix me, or make my life work somehow. I pursued my education and my career based on my patriarchal blessing, trusting that "God" had a plan for me, and that he would open doors for me. I believed my mission president when he told me, after two years of tireless and fully devoted service that said god would guide me, and prepare a way for me. Where is he? This God who loves me so much, why is he hiding? Is it my sexuality? Or maybe it is the choices that I have made of education and employment and religion that disqualify me from his eternal love. Decisions I made in his divinely inflicted absence. I don't know. I don't know what has happened, but I am broken, battered, and I can't hold on much longer.