I’ve seen this question posed multiple times in the threads and forums of Mormondom. I’ve had friends who have run into this question in their families and wards.

And it’s heartbreaking. It is never ok to question someone’s testimony. That is bullying. It’s why this and so many Bloggernacle blogs have a policy against such accusations and similar questions. On the receiving end, it makes the person feel disposable: “That Zion we learn about at church? Don’t want you there.” “That eternal family thing? Yeah, doesn’t apply to this relationship. Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.”

It’s devastating.

I’ve read many great responses to this question. Some will say that they have no issues with doctrine, just policy. Some shelve the tough topics. Some call upon history, “If everyone fighting for suffrage decided to leave, where would women be today?” Some call on the fact that life is complicated: some people set aside differences for the sake of family, friends, or occupation, or whatever else. We all have priorities and we don’t get to judge another’s.

But it has been my experience that responding with these doesn’t always work. You can explain your testimony until you’re blue in the face and you’ll still be written off. And I think that’s because both parties are overlooking one of the most debilitating parts of the question.

In asking, “Why don’t you just leave?” the asker is admitting, on some level, that if they had the same testimony struggles, if they had the same experiences, they would leave. Peel away the anger of “If you have all these problems with the Church, why don’t you just leave?” and you may find the scary answer, “I would have left already if I were you.”

Anger is a defensive emotion, used to hide hurt, shame, fear, guilt, and vulnerability.

What can we do on the receiving end? Deep breaths. Since it’s not actually about you,  you can kindly try focusing it back, “Hmm. Would you?” But,  ”That’s not an option for me right now,” might be all you can do. Smile and keep on going. And breathe some more. Your own emotions are tricky, and dealing with someone else’s is trickier. Relationships are hard; they don’t always survive.

But know it’s ok to be on that edge. I wish there was something definitive that I could say and promise that it’ll work out or even promise that it won’t so you can move on. Some people will actually show you the door. Sometimes time heals all wounds. And if there’s anything I know about life, it’s that things will change.

Oh and, why don’t I leave? Well, God told me to stay. Take it up with Her.

It’s Spring Break and I’m spending time with my family in San Diego, a place I absolutely LOVE.

Like many people, especially Jana, I find peace in the ocean. I could sit on the beach and watch the waves for hours.  When I do this, my baseline level of calm realigns and I’m able to truly find bliss in holding hands with my husband and watching our children play in the surf and sand.

As I’ve rediscovered this pool of calm inside my soul, I recognize that I’ve been wound a little too tightly for the last few weeks (months?). The past few days have been particularly difficult as I find myself trying to control people around me, seeing my children as obstacles on my path, and being downright mean to the people I love for insignificant reasons. Two nights ago I timed myself out while making dinner becuase I really need to think about how Jesus would treat people. (Yes, I did chastise Mark for putting too much cheese on the pizza).

When I was single, a friend once referred me to a matchmaking website for Mormons.  Being the open-minded and curious person that I am, and since the first month was a free trial, I went ahead and signed up.  Within minutes of posting my profile, my mailbox was overflowing with emails from interested men.  Yikes.  I closed my account right away.  I wasn’t used to so much male attention, in written form or otherwise, and I found it a little scary.  The friend who referred me met and dated several nice people through the website. She also dated a person she met there whom she later learned was a married, cheating scumbag. She eventually married a person who she met in real life.

Several weeks ago I was witness to a horrific act of spiritual violence. A leader in my ward called three women to speak on marriage but used their life stories to represent a telestial, terrestrial and celestial existence. I don’t want to go into too much detail out of respect for these women who were unwitting participants in his spiritual abuse and because it’s not really the point of this post. Suffice it to say that there were hurt feelings and tears shed by many women in my ward who do not live up to this leader’s view of what a celestial existence is for women of this church.

The other day, I said to my husband. “You know how there are some couples that share an email address, so that they can keep an eye on the online interactions of their partners? Would you ever have any desire to do that with me?”

His response, as he looked with distaste at the 3000 messages in my inbox: “Ugh. I don’t want to sort through all your emails.”

And there you have it. I guess he’s not that worried about me flirting by email with old high school friends or whatever. Not that I’m surprised. We’re just not jealous people.