Preaching To The Choir.

The other day while shopping at the grocery store with my mom a ward friend of ours approached us. With a very serious look on her face she said to me, "Did you know that you're a high school dropout and a teenage mother?" I was so completely caught off guard I'm sure my jaw just dropped. She then smiled warmly and asked, "Do people really say things like that to you?"

She let me know that she enjoys reading my blog and is amazed at the things that people say to me. I'm personally amazed too, whether it's to my face or behind my back, I do know what you say about me.

I was raised to not be bothered by what others say to or about me. But I think my parents forgot to teach me to not be bothered by what others say to or about my family and friends. They also forgot to teach me to keep your stupid comments to myself, because even though I try to be a big girl I do have a bad habit of sharing your idiotic comments. I'll have to work on that, or something.

I don't think people realize the gravity of their thoughts, whether you say it out loud or whisper it to someone else, if it gets said you can't take it back.

So yes, people really do say awful, rotten things about me and my life. Do they really know what they're even talking about? No. So it doesn't affect me. Do they judge me without knowing anything about me? Yes. But I know that they will have to answer to someone else, and they will probably feel foolish about what they've done. So let's talk about some big kid things just for a minute.

No kids, I do not go to church every Sunday. Yes, I do occasionally forget to pray. No, I don't always read my scriptures. No, my husband doesn't carry the priesthood. No, we didn't get married in the temple. Yes, we had a child outside of marriage. I am aware of my life, thank you.

BUT, I am honest and open with my feelings. I am not two-faced. I don't decide to like people when they conform to my liking. Because I'm a real person, and I am flawed. Beautifully flawed; and I love it. I love that I can improve myself. I love that I need my Lord. I love that I need the atonement and that it is there for me. I am real. I don't live in my imaginary world where I'm perfect and fantastical. So, from your perspective, I guess I'm grateful to not have the Lord's full blessing in my life, whatever that is. I'm grateful to have the gospel in my life.

The real one.

The one where people help each other when we've fallen down. The one where people don't laugh at each other because, "What, did you get married in the temple? Haha." How ridiculously asinine. The one where we don't tell each other how long you have to go to church before you can feel the spirit, especially if you have no idea what you're even talking about. Because the gospel is so deeply intimate and personal that the relationship between everyone else and God is so not your business.

I have been raised in the gospel my whole life. I would say church, but "the church" is some weird cultish adaption made by some crazed person who feels the need to shove their personal beliefs down everyone's throats. You start looking awful silly when you're telling others around you things about the church, try to pass it off as the gospel, and judge people who practice the gospel instead of the church. The gospel, as I view it, is your thing. Do your thing. Learn and grow and flourish in the knowledge that you can understand. It's so complex that there are so many different levels to it that people are on. And it's okay if people aren't on your level. It's okay. It's really, seriously okay.

When I started my degree my first class was psychology. One night we had a discussion about the Utah County bubble and how it made people feel in the class who weren't Mormon. I sat quietly, because the Mormons weren't supposed to say anything yet, and listened to all of the girls in the class tell the same story. They all walked into church one day a pregnant, unwed teenager, were consequently harassed and put down, and never walked into a church again. Because of people. How ridiculously asinine. This is the culture of Utah County, Utah. People feeling so insecure about their short comings that they have to put down those who's mistakes are visible.

How would you feel if every mistake you made was splashed on your face? If every drink you ever had stained your skin? Every time you smoked cigarettes or drugs that the smell stayed with you forever? If the name of every person you ever slept with was tattooed on your face, would you maybe cut somebody else some slack? You are not perfect, and if you think you are then you need help the most. Please come back to me when you have some real hardship in your life and understand what being a grown up really is.

Pretty sure we were all told not to judge someone because they sin differently than we do.

And really don't judge somebody if they know all your dirty little secrets, because then you start looking really dumb.