Reflecting on Growth: A Year Later
Last week, I felt the urge to pen down a blog post in celebration of my birthday—a sort of "year later" update. However, each passing day seemed to slip through my fingers, weighed down by the task of articulating the whirlwind of thoughts swirling within me. Much has changed since my "Big 3-0" birthday post; it's been a year of profound growth.
Last August, I unveiled more of my journey with my faith and the many feelings I was having. You can read it here. These experiences unfolded between March and May, a period marked by the complexities of identity and the faith that had shaped me. Brent Morgan's touching track, "Some Days" (linked here), encapsulated the many emotions coursing through me during that tumultuous time. Every week, as I sat through church services, its lyrics resonated deeply:
“Some days I wonder what it's like
To live an ordinary life
Maybe I won't feel this way
Some day”
Every week we were reminded of the ultimate “plan of happiness” and that we may not have all the answers in this life but to wait for the next life for it all to make sense. So then I would ask,
“Some days I feel like everyone hates me
Some days I question, "Why would God create me?"
These words echoed the turmoil within—moments of self-doubt, questioning, and yearning for acceptance. The faith I'd known prescribed a path that felt constrictive, urging me towards a life that didn't authentically resonate with who I was. The prospect of conforming to a predetermined mold or banking on a distant future for solace felt crippling rather than hopeful.
The more I looked behind the founding of the faith, and its current stance on an array of topics, and more, I realized I was not willing to put all my eggs into one basket and would rather walk through this life being authentically, David. As the summer of 2023 approached, Heather and I embarked on a shared journey of deconstructing our faith. Together, we made the difficult decision to step away from the church—a choice driven by our pursuit of mental well-being and authenticity. It wasn't easy, but it was necessary for our growth as individuals and as parents navigating the complexities of belief and identity.
Fast forward to the present—a year later—and we find ourselves in a space of greater peace and contentment. Does this mean life is lacking of challenges? Far from it. The human experience is a tapestry woven with threads of joy, sorrow, and everything in between. And that's perfectly okay.
A few weeks before the triplets' birthday (mine, Heather’s, and our daughter's), we received an invitation to my new niece's baby blessing. We hesitated, unsure of how to navigate the complex emotions tied to attending a church event. The last time we set foot in a church service for the congregation we were assigned to—coincidentally, my brother's congregation—was in May of 2023. Despite our reservations, we felt compelled to show support for my family during this significant milestone.
As the blessing fell on the same day as our triplets' birthday, the date loomed large in my mind, evoking a sense of anxiety and dread. Night after night, I found myself plagued by nightmares, grappling with the looming prospect of uncomfortable interactions and ideological clashes. At times, the thought of backing out altogether seemed like the easiest option. However, Heather understood my concerns and offered unwavering support, assuring me that we'd face this challenge together. It was our birthday, after all, and we could celebrate it on our terms—beginning with the blessing and ending with a simple coffee outing with the kids.
The big day arrived, we got the kids all dressed up and I threw on my suit with a grey button-up shirt and we headed out to the 9 am church. Greeted with family and familiar church smells, we found our seats, comfortably in the back. Mostly, for my sake of not wanting to feel like we were being watched from behind. The kids had fun seeing their cousin and right now “church time” is simply being with family and that is the perfect memory I want for them.
As the sacrament session commenced, echoes of doubt and uncertainty resurfaced, underscored by Brent Morgan's lyrics:
“Some days I wonder what it's like
To live an ordinary life
Maybe I won't feel this way
Some day”
I pushed through and because I am not “worthy in the eyes of the church” I simply stayed in my seat while my brothers and other male members got up to bless my newborn niece. My body tensed up as I knew some of the language used could be triggering. Once my brother began to speak and convey some of these triggering “blessings”, my heart broke. It was one thing to hear these things in my head but it was another to hear them out loud by someone I cherish. I looked up at Heather and she felt it too. She was not expecting these feelings to rise in her either. For the next hour, we mentally checked out of the meeting. Once it was over, we smiled and walked our family out to the van where we could proceed to get our coffee. The rest of the day felt tender in our hearts. We felt this conflict of wanting to support family but we also knew we could not go through that again. We tried to pick ourselves up for the remainder of the day as we were getting together with the whole family for our birthday celebration. That too felt heavy and we tried to enjoy it the best we could. Once we got home, we got the kids to bed and enjoyed a movie together.
The next morning, everything still felt heavy, and uncertain of how to “get over it.” Heather woke up to a cold. Thankfully my mom was able to watch our kids for the afternoon. After work, I was able to go pick them up in time to watch the kids play in the rain. While watching, I sat with my mom and poured out all the thoughts and our experience previously mentioned. I was so worried about her feelings but she turned to me and said, “It’s okay. We still love you all so much and will support you no matter what you do.” A weight was lifted and while our faith views are different, she is still my mom who loves me and my little family so much. That means so much and something I cherish. We then talked about how future events that the family has at church we will simply decline to attend as that is the best way we can continue to show love for our family while maintaining our mental wellbeing. If someone close to you declines religious events, just know there may be more to their story, and that’s alright.
And to those grappling with similar conflicts, know that your journey is valid, your truth is worth honoring, and your worth transcends the confines of any belief system or ideology.
-David