I was active in the church as a teenager. I didn't really have a choice, if I am being honest, but I was active. The thought of NOT being active never really crossed my mind. My parents would have come down pretty heavy on me and I would have essentially been eternally grounded, so why would I even entertain that thought? I went to church and to activities and to seminary because I was absolutely expected to. I didn't mind most of the time. After all, that is where my friends were. The whole system reinforced itself.
I attended Seminary all four years of high school. The church was literally right around the corner from our house, so I walked initially. My family moved to another house that was further away while I was in high school, but I could drive by then and I was driving myself. My parents never had to take me to seminary. I had a big crush on a guy that was in my seminary class, and that got me perfect attendance for the first two years, I think. He didn't go to my school, so seminary was where I would see him. After my crush on him faded, my attendance remained consistent. (I'm telling you - I was a good kid.) I would skip every once in a while, but for the most part, I went. I would say that seminary helped me to strengthen my own personal testimony. I had good teachers. They had strong testimonies. They challenged us to do the reading and the praying, and I tried really hard to do it. I can never say that I truly enjoyed reading the scriptures. I just never found the joy in it that others claimed to find. But I tried really hard to do the reading we were asked to do. As a teenager, I do not ever recall doubting the truthfulness of the Book of Mormon or the church. I didn't really have a reason to. I was never challenged on it. I was never taught the problematic portions of church history, therefore, I never had cause to doubt or question. Seminary taught me the all the fundamentals of the gospel - at least the ones the church wanted to teach to the youth. Did it leave out a lot?! ABSOLUTELY. I see that now. I'm sure if I were to attend a seminary class today, I would have my hand up the entire time, questioning and commenting on what was being taught. But not then. I was 15 years old, 16 years old. I knew nothing - only what was taught to me as truth by the trusted adults around me.
I have very fond memories of youth activities when I was a teenager. Maybe I was really lucky. Maybe I am choosing to only remember the fun ones. But I felt like I had pretty fun leaders and the emphasis seemed to be on making sure we kids had fun, rather than making sure we felt the spirit. Some fun things I can recall us doing as youth: ski trip, multiple beach trips, scavenger hunts, Christmas trips to San Francisco to ride the cable cars and sing carols, sailing in the Bay, movie nights, swim parties, game nights. We just had fun. We also had choir a lot - youth choir - which I also really enjoyed. I'm not sure our choir director felt the same - we didn't listen well. We were rowdy. But I enjoyed it. Again - all my friends were there. Even singing church songs became a good time.
I attended EFY (Especially For Youth) one year, probably when I was a freshman. I was deep in the throes of my crush that got me to seminary each morning and I found out what week he was attending, and a few of my friends and I attended the same week. I was a devoted crush-er, clearly. We flew to Salt Lake City - pretty foreign to me - and my Dad arranged for us to stay the night with a family my parents had known in Spokane. I think their name was Frederickson, but I cannot be sure. Again - it's in a journal somewhere, I'm sure. Anyway - I did not know these people. They were former friends/acquaintances of my parents. They were pretty stereotypical Utah Mormon. They had a ranch-style home, with a trampoline in the backyard, a stay-at-home Mom. The first, and only, night that we stayed with them, we started playing a game with a deck of cards we had bummed off the airline attendant. The dad came in whilst we were playing (probably something silly like Go Fish or Slap Jack) and said, "Ladies, we don't play with face cards in this house". We all giggled. Surely he was joking. We continued playing. He wasn't joking. He said it again and stood there until we put the cards away. We put them away and when he closed the door behind him, we all just marveled at what a weirdo he was to not allow face cards. That was not a rule I was familiar with at all. My parents played Pinochle with the Skubals all the time. Face cards were not taboo where I came from, but they were in this home. Welcome to Utah.
We spent a day roaming Salt Lake City, on one end of the trip. Again, my first time really experiencing Zion. We visited Temple Square. I remember having a protester of some sort hand us anti-Mormon literature. At least, that was my understanding of the pamphlet. I was so sure of myself at the ripe age of 14. I took the pamphlet and put it directly in the garbage - and I remember being so proud of myself for not even looking at it. It's amazing to me that I once prided myself on my refusal to learn something new and think critically about it. But that was what a good Mormon does. No slippery slopes. Hold to the rod. Ignore the people in the great and spacious building.
EFY itself holds few memories for me. I recall going to classes, being bored much of the time, enjoying the activities at night and the dances, seeing my crush from afar and sneaking in a dance with him before the week was over...I had fun with my friends and probably did some testimony-building activities, sang the songs, and likely committed to being a better Mormon girl when I got home.
I attended Girls Camp each year I was eligible. We would travel north to the woods and sleep on the ground, under the stars. We ate under a covered area, singing for our food. We did a flag ceremony each morning, had crafts and lessons throughout the day, and a campfire and devotional every night. I was with friends each year, my Mom came a couple of years. I remember feeling comforted having her there, even though I didn't see much of her. I didn't have the appreciation that I now have for the beautiful woods that we spent that week in. Now that I have gone to other girls camps in a leader capacity, I look back on my own experiences with an increased appreciation.
Stake dances are probably some of my best memories as a teenager. To someone reading this in the current day, this probably seems like a joke. But I was lucky. I was going to dances in the late 80's and early 90's. And they were FUN. There were no cell phones. There was a legit DJ. We dressed up. The lights were off. There were decorations and refreshments and party lights. All of my friends were there. All the youth in the stake went. Sometimes they were held at Stake centers, but for some special dances, like New Years, one year they rented out a mall. And the music - it was GOOD. Erasure, New Order, Depeche Mode, When in Rome, U2, The Cure, Oingo Boingo. Like, really good stuff. Each dance ended with Forever Young by Alphaville or Somebody by Depeche Mode. To this day, I can't listen to these songs without feeling something. Dave and I attended these dances together after we started dating. So many memories. I'm sad that my own kids could not have these experiences. I look back on those nights with my closest friends and with good music with great fondness.
Home Life
I mentioned in earlier posts how I was relatively free as a kid. Despite having joined the church, I didn't feel the weight of it in terms of rules or expectations for the most part. My parents let me run around, wear what I wanted, explore the woods behind our house all alone, have the friends I wanted... Things changed when I was a teenager. I'm not sure if I should attribute these changes to our move to California, which they coincide with nicely, or just to a natural progression of my parent's involvement in the church or the increased desire on my Mom's part that we appear to conform. Either way, things changed.
As I stated earlier, I was expected to be at church and all church activities. I really didn't fight this much. I was also expected to go to seminary. Again, no fight. I was expected to dress modestly. This was not a huge issue for me because I was not usually a huge fan of my body and never wanted to show it off. Most of my conflict, as I remember it, was between my mom and me. As an adult, I have tried really hard to understand the problems we had with one another. I think much of it comes from my mother's concern for what others thought of us and of her. She had some insecurities, I think. And being a mom in the Mormon church probably didn't help those insecurities; it can be pretty intense. I totally get it. My mom wanted us to look like a well-rounded Mormon family. I understand. But I was 15. I had a personality of my own, a style of my own. I liked to wear dark colors, I liked to wear my hair over one eye, I listened to music that she didn't understand or like. I didn't wear pastel dresses with a bow in my hair to church like some of the other girls. I wore black clothes and leather shoes with buckles on them. I didn't curl my hair, I let it fall over my face. I was generous with the black eyeliner. I slouched. It drove her crazy. In short, I was a disappointment. She was not shy about telling me, and on more than one occasion, she really hurt my feelings by telling me what a disappointment I was. She later apologized, but man - you can't take back words like that. They stick. They are still stuck to me, to this day. She wanted me to be more like the other girls. And I wasn't. I didn't feel this from my dad. He just didn't worry about my appearance like she did. And that stuck with me, too. I think this is why, as a mom, I tried to never be critical of my kids' appearance. I wanted them to feel free to express themselves however they wanted. I didn't tell them how to dress. I didn't tell them how to do their hair. I know how that felt and how I internalized that criticism as a youth, and I did not want that for my own children.
All in all, I tried really hard to please my parents. I knew they struggled with finances and with Ken and with job changes and family stressors. I was not aware of all their struggles, because my dad always kept those close to the vest. But I did not want to add to their stress, so I tried to be a good daughter.
Expectations
My parents never really came out and said what they expected of me in terms of my future. There was plenty implied and hinted at, but no clear rule. I was a decent student and my friends were going to Brigham Young Univeristy after they graduated, so I applied to BYU. I didn't really think about whether or not I wanted to go to college, or specifically to BYU - I felt like that decision was a no-brainer. Of course, I would go there. That is where good Mormon kids went. I applied, and I got in. My Dad drove me out. We stayed with a distant cousin of his near Salt Lake City. His name was Moroni. Seriously. His kids lived there, too. They were all very nice to me. They let me swim in their pool. Dad took me to the bookstore and we somehow managed to navigate that. My Dad went to college in the 60's. So much had changed. Neither of us was familiar with BYU or how things worked. I remember going to a Mexican restaurant in Provo on his last night there, and he bragged to the waitress that I was starting at BYU. He was so proud. The next day, he left me there. It was one of the hardest days for me. We stood at the car and he was leaning against it and he said, "You have always had a special place in my heart, and I love you and I will miss you. I am so proud of you". I cannot recall his exact words, and maybe my journal contains them, but that was the gist of it. He was my hero, my defender, my supporter. Saying goodbye to him was one of the hardest things in my life.
When I started dating Dave and we became an "item", I think the expectation was that we would stay clean and pure and eventually get married in the temple. We definitely did the last one. But maybe not legitimately. We knew our families expected a temple marriage, as did our friends and extended family (on Dave's side) and ecclesiastical leaders. To not be married in the temple is a huge admission of guilt to something, usually something involving morality and chastity. We tried. But we were also human. We were really attracted to one another. Instinct is a powerful foe. And it often won with us. There was plenty of guilt and shame that accompanied all of that, and I am not ashamed to say that Dave was usually so much better than I was at trying to get us back on track, so to speak. But, yeah. I knew the expectation there was a temple marriage. Anything less would have been nothing short of a scandal.
I was certainly expected to have children. Fortunately for me, I wanted them. I wanted them so badly. Isaac was born right around our 2 year anniversary. His birth altered my life forever. Becoming a mother was a life-changing moment. Once I had Isaac, I was baby hungry until Morgan was born. I had 4 kids in 6 years. They are the best thing to have ever happened to me and they have brought us more joy than any other achievement in our lives. Hands down.
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