The first leaving I mentioned in the last post was leaving the faith community I had been raised in and had committed to raising my children in as well. Faith can be a wonderful thing that brings comfort and community, but it can also constrict and hold hostage. I experienced both sides of that and everything in between as I participated in the Mormon faith as best I could.
There were always questions, things that didn’t make sense, confusing parts that contradicted each other. I trusted that these would all be worked out later—much later, as in the afterlife. As a very young wife (18) and mother (19, then again at 21), I had a lot of other things on my mind. Trusting that religion would pull it all together someday in the future was what I could handle.
My husband, at the time, struggled much more with faith. That is his story to tell, but I will share that over time it affected me because I was desperate to do something to help him. He had spent a lot more time studying and researching than I had—which was part of the problem—but I thought that if I connected more with what he was struggling with, I could help him figure it out.
That led me down a rabbit hole that I won’t get into here, because it isn’t the point of this post and I have no desire to disrupt anyone else’s beliefs, but the end result was that I did not find the answers I was looking for and the concepts I had always struggled with before became amplified. My search also led me to question what I had believed about relationships, duty to stay in a relationship, and what it meant to be happy.
I wasn’t happy, in my faith or in my life. When it came to faith, I realized I could no longer participate because I no longer believed in its tenants, promises, or demands.
My faith had been a major factor in my decision-making my entire life up to that point. Getting married young to someone I barely knew, having kids right away, not prioritizing my education in favor of supporting my husband’s education, not believing I could have a career either at all or until my kids were grown, not challenging decisions or standing up for myself, and so on.
My mantra always seemed to be that I just had to find a way to endure and to make it work.
My writing was also affected, and not just that I shied away from certain topics because of what family or church members might think. Writing was a hobby and that was all it could ever be. It took time away from my family, kept me from keeping a cleaner house or having dinner ready on time, cost money that should have gone to the family’s needs, distracted me, etc. None of these things were actually true, but I believed them. Humans tend to do that when the message is repeated often enough.
I did the best I could to make writing into something both fulfilling and income-producing during those years. I grew a decent following. I wrote a lot and I wrote fast. Spending money on editing was not going to fly at that time, so many of my early books especially are underdeveloped and timid in their approach to tough topics. They were basically first drafts with proofreading by friends and family. These are the ones that will see some significant changes when republished, if not full rewrites.
My faith and marriage also heavily influenced my worldview, which skewed my understanding and view of relationships—what was normal and healthy and okay and what wasn’t. It took my current husband (another life change—this time for the positive) reading some of my books and kindly but directly questioning the way I had portrayed healthy or good relationships in my writing to show me how much my mindset had shifted. I’ll get more into the relationship part of that in the next post.
When your understanding of humanity and existence in general completely collapses and has to be rebuilt, you look at things differently. When I reread some of my books, I no longer connect with certain aspects of what I wrote, relationships and otherwise. Another area for revisions when I republish.
Some might ask, why bother? Why not let those previous books remain as a time capsule and move on to new projects?
I am moving on to new projects, which I’m excited about and will talk about later, but I don’t like the idea of fifteen years of my writing career (and yes, I consider it a career worth investing in fully now) being set aside because I don’t connect with them anymore. It’s really hard for me to promote something I don’t fully believe in.
I also know this will be a great learning experience for me, both as a writer and as a human. I will get to look back at what I thought and believed at different stages of my life and see how much they’ve changed. It’s encouraging, in a weird way, to know that I have grown so much and opened myself up to new ideas and new ways of seeing the world.
So, as I revise and republish, if you are curious about the changes and want to reread a book you read previously, let me know. I’ll be back at zero with reviews on most of my books and I’d be happy to send review copies for those who might want to share their honest thoughts.
What is something you’ve had to reevaluate in your life?
