On Goodness

Chapter 18: Letters to a Leaving Mormon

I AM NOT ALWAYS A BETTER PERSON than I was when I was Mormon. Sometimes it feels as if my soft edges are gone. I was voted “Nicest Person” in my high school, and it was true, but I don’t know that “nice” is the word that would describe me now. I was really, really nice. I was thoughtful and aware, an expert at putting the needs of others before my own. I honed that expertise right into marriage, motherhood, work, and friendships into my mid-thirties. It didn’t make me unhappy, but often, I was lost somewhere inside of all the caring for others. Leaving Mormonism asked me to renegotiate and deconstruct so much in my life that I didn’t fully realize that re-understanding my own goodness, or even the definitions of that word, would be one of the hardest steps. 

I’ve always wanted to be good, and Mormonism gave me the benchmarks to feel like I could. As a missionary, I made a rule for myself in the first week: I promised myself I would always give my companion the better half of anything we ate, did, or had. If there was a better bed in our room, she got it. If there was only enough hot water for the first shower, I insisted my companion take it. If I broke a cookie in half, I gave her the bigger part. I don’t regret this, but it was not sustainable as I attempted to treat every relationship, except the one with myself, in this way. I learned a deep love for the person I was with in attempting to serve them. I carried these sentiments beyond my mission. Yes, I was nice. Yes, I was trying to serve others. But as I deconstruct my Mormonism, I see that in some areas my selfhood had been diminished in my attempts at erasing my own needs, desires, and opinions. 

Physical copies of ‘Letters to a Leaving Mormon’ can be purchased here.