So…This Wasn’t on My Bingo Card

Doing it scared hit me upside the head with a Book of Mormon

Hold on, you're on the right post. I promise. I know I said we are moving on from Do It Scared, and we are. But we're going to do a throwback before we move on.

There were so many solid pieces we explored together like When Matthew Died Again, reminding us that sometimes if you fangirl enough you get to time travel (and without a TARDIS!).

We naviageted some relationship truth bombs in Loving Outside the Lines and in For The Ones Who Dread Mother's Day.

Oh! And we learned to channel our inner Roy Kent while surviving back to school.

But I think my favorite piece was all about my youngest son, in The Bravest Person I Know.

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Not to be Outdone

Of course, the same week my post about his brother went live, my oldest had to throw his hat into the ring with being featured as part of Do It Scared.

I ran home during a break from the massage studio, dropping off prescriptions and saying hello to my teens who are asleep on Sunday mornings when I leave at the oh-so-early time of 7:25 am.

After checking on my youngest, I poked my head into the ever stinky messy cave room of my oldest. I noticed a navy blue textured cover with big gold lettering. I will always recognize that book—even when I least expect it to appear, like it was currently peeking out from his trundle bed.

"Where'd you get that?" I asked him. He nonchalanty replied that a friend gave it to him.

"Are you reading it?" Ngl, I secretly wished the answer would be a HELL NO. Please let that be the answer. But I had a sneaking suspicion his answer would disappoint me.

"I am. Mom, you remember that thing I told you about? The part of me that I felt was missing? Well, I was scared to tell you but this is it. I'm going back to the Mormon church."

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Well THAT was a Gut Punch

I mean yes and no.

At first, it felt like a betrayal. How could he choose to go back to the organization that fucked up my head so badly?

But then it hit me in a flash—just like the many social justice issues where we don't see eye to eye, this has nothing to do with me.

This is not my story, this is not my life. And if I mean it when I say I love him unconditionally, this decision cannot change that.

So even though I am still working through how to continuously show up for myself in difficult conversations, my badass parenting instincts kicked in. I reassured him that I support him, and that while we need to have some conversations about boundaries and other pieces, if this is what he needs to be happy, then he goes after it.

I showed up for him like I wish someone had showed up for me:

Encouraging my bravery

Holding space for exploration and curiosity

Allowing me to be different AND loved

I didn't cry until I got back to the studio, and my coworker hugged me because the shock was written all over my face. I wasn't mad, and I wasn't hurt, at least not by my son who was just trying to find his way in the world.

But for fucks sake, I had just repeated this line the week before, as I had done countless times over the last six years: If I don't get anything else right as a parent, I got my boys out of the cult.

The sheer irony of this is ridiculous!

And my sense of acommplishment as a parent? It's shaken up a bit.

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*A Few Hours Later*

When I got home from work that night I sat down on his bed and asked him what had been truly bothering me: Why was he scared to tell me? I mean duh I get it, but I needed him to verbalize this so we could cut to the heart of his unfounded fear.

"I know you left and you hate Mormons so..."

Don't worry I made sure he understood that I don't actually hate Mormons. As I patiently explained (for like the hundreth time), a lot of our family and numerous friends are members of the church. And most members are just trying to be good people and live good lives. I made sure he understood my issues lie with the doctrine and the leadership.

Since he was so young when I left, and then a year later his father did too, that he didn't really hear the reasons why. We kept it age appropriate and vague. "Not tonight, but we are going to have a conversation about why I left. Not to try and disuade you, but to make sure you hear the things that they will never teach you. Also, for you to understand how hard it is to be a woman in that church."

But I made sure to finish the conversation with the reminder that whether he stays for the rest of his life or he ends up leaving again, there will be no "I told you so".

Just love and support.

But ya know, with boundaries.

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No Really, What Now?

Yeah, I don't know. It's gonna be a an ongoing discussion of reasons I left + boundaries for engagement with him around the "exciting" (to him) milestones ahead.

But you know? He is so fucking happy. The last month he's been like himself pre-covid when his whole life got fucked up. (It is so much more than COVID, but that's his story to share someday, not mine). So if this is what he needs right now to adjust from teenager to man in training, if this community lights him up and fills the gaps left by trauma and heartbreak, I will walk with him.

Love is not some neat little box with a bow. Especially parental love.

It is messy, filled with potholes, lots of fuck words, storm clouds and sunshine, and about 10% of the time it is joyous.

We want it be more like 90% of the time but it just isn't.

This twist may not be what I envisioned, or what I think is best for him, but it has solidified this truth:

• I know in the depths of my soul that I have two of the most amazing children.

• They are both brave and embody our family motto of Do It Scared.

• Both are living authentically, regradless of what the mainstream suggests for them.

• And they are both getting after the things that bring them joy.

At the end of the day, I cannot think of anything better for my children.

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💭 Reflection Prompt

Where in your life are you trying to control someone else’s path instead of supporting them through it?

What would it look like to love someone fully—even if their choices challenge your beliefs or your past?

Where are you being asked to “do it scared” in a way that feels different than before?

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Feel free to share your reflection.

Be strong. Do it Scared. 💜