The Heathen: After I Left

Heathen: a person who does not belong to a widely held religion- as regarded by those who do.

A derogatory term. A familiar one. 

I've previously talked about my experience and process of leaving the LDS church. Slow, as well as relieving. As if an unexplainable weight was lifted off of my back. No longer should I feel ashamed in Sunday School where I knew not who Moses was, or why Joseph Smith need have so many wives. These were things I did not understand like the others did. 

What seemed to be over, was really just the beginning. The beginning of self discovery as well as hope. And while these were all good things to look forward to, I was not so naïve as to forget the stress and judgment to come.

My parents have often said the reason they didn't leave the church earlier is because they feared of what it could mean for my sister and I. They thought that we would constantly be scrutinized by our peers, unaccepted. Social outcasts in the tightly knit religious community. And while that is not completely false, it is not the whole story.

I still have friends. Great ones. Ones that love and accept that of me. I have never been directly bullied about it. Regardless, I've seen my share of insults and disgust. The only one that has stuck with me was a friend of mine casually nick-naming me "heathen" and letting my know I would surely end up in hell fire. Which you'd think wouldn't hurt because I don't believe in a hell. But they did, and they were certain that was what would happen to me. Which pinched a little.

Nonetheless, most people really are amazing. While they do not agree with my beliefs, they generally respect them, and if not that, they just disregard them.

We all find comfort in believing in different things. Whether it's Judaism, Christianity, Islam, Bahá'í Faith, Hinduism, Taoism, Buddhism, Sikhism, Slavic neopaganism, Celtic polytheism, Hellenism, or yes, Atheism, we are all just people searching for meaning in life. Not the meaning of  life. The meaning in it. 

"Life is without meaning. You bring the meaning to it. The meaning of life is whatever you ascribe it to be. Being alive is the meaning."

-Joseph Campbell

The Big Wide Unknown.

I've had only a couple existential crises this year so far(woo hoo!).

A lot of which involve me staying home for days worrying about the fact that I still have no idea what I want to do in the future.

From day to day I think I have a plan. And then inevitably, I return to the state of mind in which my future is a cloud of possibilities and worry. 

In school we are pressured to have a plan. Seems like positive peer pressure, but it's not. They pressure you in the sense that you need to know right then what you want to do with the rest of your life. And sometimes, it sounds like they're telling us to settle, as long as we have a plan. Understandable that they want us to be prepared, but how many adults can say they knew exactly how they were paying for college, what job they were going to have, and where they'd be living in the future by the age of 13? 

I think this pressure causes fear in adolescents. Fear of the future, fear of life after graduation. 

But this fear of possibility is something we will encounter in our life time and time again. This single event in our life isn't the biggest. 

Life isn't planned. As much as it may seem like everything is a defined step by step process, it's not.

It's wild and spontaneous and scary and beautiful. Life isn't just one thing. "Life" is just the word we use to describe millions of adventures, losses, loves, and silences we experience in such a wide space of time. And who's to say that the future you have planned now is the one you'll be living in five years.

I'm not an expert, I know just as little as everyone else. But I do know that if we just stay brave, stay hopeful, good things will come. 

Congratulations to the class of 2015.

"It is always wise to look ahead, but difficult to look further than you can see."

-Winston Churchill.

Before I left.

I had grown up in the church. It was a part of my life, a part of who I was.

I was baptized in the LDS church at the age of eight, something I had said I wanted to do. I felt like I was strong with my faith. I knew everyone would be proud of me, and immensely pleased with my decision. So I held my breath as I was dipped under the warm water, my white suit clinging to my skin.

In the stalls before the baptism.

As I was expected to, I felt the spirit. The spirit of The Holy Ghost. The one I had always been told I could feel, and that it would be very strong on this day.

Afterwards, things changed. I started questioning things, coming to my own independent thoughts and feelings. I noticed I was the only one who didn't know the bible stories, or watch the conferences. And not much longer, I realized that I didn't agree with what I had always been taught. I realized that I no longer had a belief in a God, or any supreme being.

And it scared me.

But I continued in church. I continued to go to the meetings, to take the sacrament, participate in the prayers, even give a talk. Hoping that no one would figure me out, before I even figured myself out. I even kept saying prayers nightly, hoping that these thoughts were temporary, and that the man I had been told all along would help me, would help me to not think these things.

Nothing changed. I started to hate myself.

But I never told anyone, for I feared I would disappoint everyone. It tore me apart thinking about my mom knowing. I thought she'd be angry, full of regret. I sat still with this pain for over two years.

Then I remember one night I just couldn't stay silent anymore. I had my mom come into my room, and we sat on my bed. My heart raced and my eyes sobbed. After what seemed like forever, I spoke. Each syllable tearing me up inside.

"Don't hate me." More crying, more silence.
"I don't believe in God." Uncontrollable sobbing.

I was eleven.

And of course she didn't hate me. But I still felt the overwhelming guilt.

I began getting stomach aches -the kind you get when you're nervous. I learned in church about atheists. And I didn't want people to know I was one. So I carried this bag of stones on my back everywhere I went, sometimes telling someone the truth, and letting a stone roll out of the bag, and on to the ground.

Going to church less and less. And with that, feeling guilty less and less. Coming to accept who I was, and hoping others would as well.

Little did I know the journey I was about to go on.

The minority.

For some reason I've been dreading posting this. But here you go. I really liked how it turned out.

In Utah County, Utah, if you look in any direction you should be able to see a LDS church off in the distance.

A study done in 2005 says that a little over 62.1% are LDS. But what about the other 40%? Mixed religions take this area up in small numbers; and those that identify as "unaffiliated" took up only 16%. While this also includes those who choose just not to pronounce themselves as belonging to any religion, this small group is even smaller when simplified down to include agnostic atheists, atheists, etcetera. 

I am a part of that group. 

Living in Utah as an atheist in Utah County, I am a part of the minority. 81.2% of Utah County belongs to the LDS church. 

So I took to Twitter to do a small survey myself.

(Those I talked to were not aware of my atheism. All participants were LDS.)

I'm going to share some answers that I received.

What do you think atheism is? What do they believe in/don't they believe in?

• "They don't believe in a God, I think. I don't know how they think we got here. 'Evolution'?"
• "Isn't it where you reject beliefs?" -I thought this was an interesting example of how many seem to know or understand so little about atheism.
• "I don't know much about it but, they don't believe in a God."

Do you know any atheists?

• 3 of 21 participants knew an atheist- whether personally or just aware of one.

When you hear the word, "Atheist", what do you picture? How do they look, act, etc.

• "Not the same standards. Like swearing, tattoos, body piercings, the way they dress, it's all different."
• And a favourite from Kassidy Barrus: " They are normal people. Some rich some are poor. Short, tall. Just like everyone else. Some are nice, some are mean(...)."

Try to put yourself in the shoes of an atheist living in Utah county. How do you feel?

• "I'd feel like the minority. I'd be afraid to tell people because they may stereotype or judge me."
• "It'd be hard. Because the Mormon community basically runs Utah. I'd always feel judged."
• "I'd feel out of place because of the Mormons and judgmental people." 
• "People would probably judge me a lot, and I'd feel surrounded by the LDS religion."

Almost every person I talked to used the same word in their responses.

  Judge.

Have you ever thought about the religious population in Utah? A lot of the time when I meet someone I just assume that they are LDS. And I cannot be the only one. I'm going to say it's a safe bet that over 75% of you that read this will only now find out I am an atheist. But that doesn't make me any less of who I am, does it?

I actually had a funny encounter the other day in Fitness class. A girl saw my second earring and was shocked. I asked her what was surprising. "Hanna, I totally thought you were a huge molly Mormon!" And lately, as my stance on religion has become more aware, I've been getting that a lot. I think that is a good example that religion does not define you. It's simply a part of who you are.

And finally, and excerpt from my dear friend Kassidy Barrus when asked what she would say to an atheist. 

Twitter: HannaRuita

Stop the madness.

Alright. I had a long blog laid out, but this app had a glitch, and I lost it all. So I'll summarize in a short, lesser version.

This morning I was looking through my Twitter feed and found several upsetting tweets. I've reworded them and changed a name so I could use them on here.

• "My mom reminded me today that boys are horrible, stupid, and pointless. You're a mistake."
• "Hey boys. Quit being douches and messing with girls feelings. Bye Brandon!(:"
• "Why are you still trying to talk to me? You boys are so immature, disrespectful, and ridiculous! I can't believe you are seriously all the same!"

Now, I'm assuming the women who wrote these tweets are not feminists, nor are really aware of gender equality. But when men and boys see these tweets, Facebook updates, Instagram captions, it doesn't make them want to learn about gender equality either. Because by you being upset at one boy, you post it and shove all boys into that group of "disrespectful douches". You are stereotyping them all as "stupid", "pointless", "mistakes", etcetera. And without really thinking about it, then many boys will see all women just as that. Just complaining about boys on social media. Just women who hate men, and want to let them know that. It's incredibly sexist of these women. If you have something you need to say to someone you think has done you wrong, don't subtweet them. Talk to them, please. 

This is why many men laugh when presented with the idea of feminism and gender equality. Because with things out there like these mean tweets, men just assume that feminism is just a lot of women coming together to hate on men. 

And that's exactly what it's not. All we want is equality. No superior gender. For women to be pilots, and men to be nurses, without having the occasional laugh or stare. For stereotypes to be abolished.

But how are we going to get anywhere if things like this don't stop? Yes, I understand that this is Twitter. And it's not a huge international deal. But if we want to make a change, everyone needs to make a change. Let's create a better society, where "sexism" is no longer a term we need use.

Sexism: prejudice, stereotyping, or discrimination, typically against women, on the basis of sex.

Let's take "typically against women" out of the definition.  

Let's make a change.

Also, I strongly recommend you get on Netflix and take some time to watch this amazing film, "Half the Sky". It's an incredible documentary. 

Twitter: @HannaRuita

Men and women. Women and men.

Feminism.
A subject that might make your stomach turn and maybe even make you stop reading this post. But it's something that needs to be discussed. And I'm willing to discuss it.

I, myself, am a feminist. I 100% am for equal rights for men and women. 

In my sociology class this past week, my teacher brought up the question, "Should men and women be equal?" Not are they, but should they.

He discussed different aspects of equality.

• Jobs.
• Opportunity.
• Respect.
• Roles in the home.

And several more.

We decided that yes. Jobs should be equal. Women should earn just as much as men for the same job. As of 2012, a woman earned 77 cents to a man's dollar. Even though they work just as hard. A woman can be a pilot, and a man can be a teacher-which is traditionally a feminine occupation.

And a yes for equal opportunities.

But a lot of the class (excluding myself) voted no for respect. They claimed they should both be respected, but to different degrees. They said men should have higher respect as the "stronger" sex. The women should have respect in things such as actions like opening the doors, pulling their chairs out for them by men, being that they're sensitive and dainty, etc. 

But I brought up an idea that women and men are held to the same respect. That women are seen as strong and men can share their feelings. And then some boys- and even a couple girls- argued with the idea of the traditional home.

The traditional home.

The man: Father, strong, head of the house, disciplining. Goes to work. Provides.

The woman: Mother, sensitive, kind. Cooks and cleans while father is at work.

A boy commented and said that this is how it is: "Men work. Women cook, clean, and raise the kids. That's how it is and that's how it always should be." 

I raised my hand and I could feel my heart beating harder as I was about to argue with this very close minded boy.

"This is the 21st century. Women can go to work. And men can stay at home," I argued. "We don't wear bonnets and top hats any more than only men go to work and women stay home. Men can be sensitive and women can be strong. I say we scrap this idea of limiting men and women to those roles. Let the women go out to work with out having to feel guilt for leaving her kids. And let the men stay home without being called 'Mr. Mom'."  The boy stared at me in utter disbelief. But I just smiled at him. 

He continued to make several extremely sexist comments, and every now and then another student would laugh with him.

Let him laugh. But I hope that one day, the sex you were given at birth doesn't define what you can and can't do. And I hope you feel the same. 

"To improve is to change; to be perfect is to change often."

- Winston Churchhill

What is it about change that scares people? I had an experience today that made me ponder this question. For about a year, I have wanted to dye my hair a dark colour. I presented the idea to quite a lot of my friends today, getting pretty negative responses.

"But I'm used to your blonde hair!"

"No, that's an awful idea. Don't do it."

"People always regret changing their hair colour."

"You'll look so pale."

It's not that I don't love my blonde hair, but don't you ever dream of changing? Of the positive possibilities that could result? Or are we as a society so comfortable in the state we are in that we aren't willing to take risks?
Now, I'm definitely not trying to compare me changing the colour of my hair to the standards of society. That'd be a stretch. But metaphorically, I think it makes sense. We are too set with who we are and what we are in a current state. Dare we change that?

But then there were also the few friends that were excited for me. Told me I'd look lovely with a darker shade.

"You'd look so pretty with it."

"Don't listen to them, it will be a great change."

"Who cares if you look white. It would look amazing." 

I had one friend who brought up a good point.

"People are so rude. Yes, it will take some getting used to, but it could totally be stunning. I wish that people didn't shut down everything so quickly without giving it a chance. It's not that big of a deal if you make a hair mistake." (thanks Jessica.)

We shut down ideas so quickly in fear that something might go wrong. Something may not turn out the way we hoped.
But let me tell you now, that's life.
And if we didn't take risks, we'd all basically be robots. Monotone in our decisions. Choosing the option that has the most secure outcome.

And where would we be if we did that?