Exit Costs

“We are all tattooed in our cradles with the beliefs of our tribe; the record may seem superficial, but it is indelible.”

 ~ Oliver Wendell Holmes Sr.  The Poet at the Breakfast Table

You would think that a pattern that repeats itself becomes old and repetitive; boring some would say. For me, some repeated patterns of behavior are familiar, almost necessary for me to feel whole and yet others frustrate and anger me, make it that I must step back to find my inner center and core. It’s almost a search for a peaceful resolution to a war of behavior with no real purpose.

Well, should I write it, is it worth it,?

Here is what I am on about, here we go again.

Friday, 4:00 pm, BBG #1 and I are at the grocery mart. My phone rings. Well, that barely happens and the number was an energy company. I have some work related issues out there that can result in an unexpected call from an energy company so I chose to answer it.

 FIRST BIG MISTAKE! 

I should have left it to go to message.

“Hello?”

“S?"

“Yes, this is she.”

“Hi, this is Bishop H”, (huge amount of traffic noise in the background, clearly he is walking down a busy street), “I was just walking and your name came into my head, are you ok”?

“ahhhh, I’m sorry, what?, yes, I’m fine.”

“Oh, so everything is ok”?

“Yes, I’m good.”

Silence……….

“are you sure?"

“Yes, Bishop, I’m sure”.

“How about W, is he ok”?

“Yes, he’s away helping his Mom move, but yes, he’s fine”.

Silence…….

“S, your breaking up on me, so, everything is fine then!” (Almost in an angry way)

“Yes, BH, I am good, W is good, is there something you want”?

Silence……….

“S, your breaking up on me (whole lot of traffic noise, clearly he is walking somewhere and is having trouble hearing me).

“so, your good then,, is that what you’re saying…. You’re good”?

This time, I am silent for a minute (10 seconds maybe).

“S, you there? Did you hear me?”

“Yes, I heard you, I am just wondering why you are asking”?

Silence,(I would say an angry pause happened here for sure. This one was long and I wasn’t filling it. I wasn’t rude I just didn’t answer his questions with any detail. I honestly couldn’t figure out why, after nearly three years, after HE put me on the no contact list so NO ONE ever contacted me, why he was calling me now, on a Friday, why?)

“S, you’re breaking up on me, I am going to let you go.”

“Oh. Ok”.

Click.

Did you ever want a do over, a second chance?

I would love one for this phone call.

I wouldn’t get angry but I would ask, openly, why he was calling and what his intent was. I mean, we were close, I was one of his wife’s better friends and then it was gone, all of it. My entire social structure collapsed.

Its irony that fell soon after his wife lashed out at me in front of everyone in the chapel that second to last time I attended. I don’t blame him or her but putting me on the “No Contact” list without my ever asking to be on it does have some sway on active members who wonder if they should reach out.

I’m not special; most every member that quits activity loses friends and social status. It’s what is profoundly called the “EXIT COSTS”.

The Exit costs for me were huge, I would gladly pay them again but to ignore they exist would be in prudish.  My reality is a lonely one. I was in for over 50 years. It is going to take time to rebuild my life without Mormonism. It will be worth it, it already is.

I walked in numbness for a few minutes after the Bishop called. BBG # 1 asked who was on the phone and I answered, her response was “why is he calling”?

“I don’t know, my guess, he was asked to or he’s getting released and needs to account for my where abouts.”

And then, the conversation was over for the most part and I realized that I was really one of those now, one of those members that gets talked about in special meetings with missionaries and auxiliary leaders, where some might say “who is she?, or, Oh…. I remember her”. 

The church claims a membership of over 14 million members. In reality, some statistics have active membership as little as 3-4 million.

I am one of the 10 million that for whatever reason, chooses each Sunday to be somewhere other than the chapel. I am the name mentioned in the meetings and every excuse but the real one is given for my inactivity.

http://whymormonsleave.com/

Here’s a link to dispel the common myths as to why members stop going and here’s a request to a Bishop, any Bishop, to Bishop H. If you really care, take some time to find out, something more than a hurried call on a busy Friday afternoon. You might be surprised.

"There is no wealth," she went on, turning paler as she watched him, while her eyes grew yet more lustrous in their earnestness, "that could buy these words of me, and the meaning that belongs to them. Once cast away as idle breath, no wealth or power can bring them back. I mean them; I have weighed them; and I will be true to what I undertake." ~ Charles Dickens  “Dombey and Son”

pneumonia

It's official, pneumonia. When the doctor told me, I let an explicative slip and asked how? I had done everything to avoid it, doubled up the steroids, the puffers, avoided all the triggers. It was caught early, still really hurts, hopefully it will be over soon.

Time for sleep, sitting up and hoping catching it early means getting over it sooner.

Winter's Blues

The moment that judgement stops through acceptance of what it is, you are free of the mind. You have made room for love, for joy, for peace. -Eckhart Tolle

The winter blues..... are hard. It doesn't help when you are fighting your second bout of a cold with the fear of crappy lungs hanging over you.

In photography, seasons have a hue, it's referenced as white balance. Summer is warm, winter cold, in even has a temp. When you shoot winter scenes you can change the hue or color by adjusting the color balance.

Here is a pic with the white balance is adjusted to take away the hue of winter and bring out the sunrise. You can, with the right software, change any mood of any landscape.

Some would say that anti depressants give the same effect for those who suffer from the winter blues. Others swear by light therapy. Shining a sun light on your face for a few hours. It works but its boring.

I haven't always had the winter blues. I think aging and being stuck in an office isn't helping but my solution usually is to just know that it's my reality and do what I can to get out and see the sun.

Depression is real. It does hurt but above all else it is managable. So here's to the 31st of January and just the realization that there is only 1 more month of the grey days and then, S-P-R-I-N-G!!!!

The Highwood pass opens again, the Spray Lakes are accessible and everything begins again.

Can't Wait!!!

Seriously?!

"We must remember that one determined person can make a significant difference, and that a small group of determined people can change the course of history. ~ Sonia Johnson

I have had a lot of time lately, some might argue too much of it really, but I have been catching up on reading, resting and generally trying to get myself through the flu even though this tokus had a flu shot.

Thus; the irony of my life.

In my reading I came across a link and it brought back some memories long ago of the time I spent at Ricks (BYU IDAHO).

It was the fall of 1979 and Mom had just dropped me off at Somerset Apartments. There I was, on my own for the first time and having a ball. I loved my classes, kind of liked my roommates and was learning to appreciate Rexburg Idaho.

It only took a few days to realize that the kind of "liberal" that I was would ultimately and completely place me in conflict with almost everyone there. I was young enough to not have a social filter (that's what you get when you graduate at 17) but wise enough to keep my mouth shut most of the right times. This was the time I think I grew the most as so much was required of me and I was on one of the first of many learning curves that would make me who I am today.

In Calgary, politics, especially women's rights was a non issue in the late 70's. The Charter Of Rights was being drawn and some things were just a given, common sense you might call it. Women were equals under the law and women's rights just existed.  It took only a few weeks in Rexburg to start to hear the rumbling of the ERA and the name Sonia Johnson.

The first time I had heard her name was in RS. The teacher was on the subject of what I don't know but then they began to talk about her and there was actual venom in the sister's voice. Naive as I was I turned and asked my California roommate who Sonia Johnson was. She was the right one to ask, her tone more liberal then most others there and she explained what it was all about. I remember turning to her and say; "seriously, you have to pass an amendment to provide rights for women?" I was flabbergasted  How were the rights for men vs women indistinguishable in any way?

Well, there was no Internet back then so I had to go to the library and look at the periodicals and the microfilms to find out more but as I did I began to realize that what I honestly took for granted simply wasn't written into the American system of law. It wasn't soon after this that I understood that the side I was on just wasn't the right one according to the majority and yet there were a few voices. I was a chicken back then, there would have been no way I would have been an advocate but I knew, deep in my heart that if a women in the church chose to stand for or against the ERA it remained a choice she had the right to make. She shouldn't be punished for her beliefs. More importantly, as the easiest cop out ever; I was Canadian, thank goodness, and this just wasn't my fight.

I followed the plight of Sonia Johnson through the years. I felt the sting of her excommunication through the halls of Ricks, felt the message loud and clear. I watched her on Donahue and wondered what was so threatening there? Here was this women speaking out for rights that seemed so given in the first place and here her life had fractured so completely  I couldn't have known back then the ultimate cost of it all.

Now, fast forward 30 years and here we are again only this time, it's not one voice but many and social media allows a connection that had Sonia had 30 years ago, maybe she wouldn't have been so alone. First pants and now prayers and when you think about it, the concept is asinine even it's mention. To think that women in 2013 have to protest for equality is astonishing.  Now, take a deep breath, this isn't about a bunch of heretics demanding the priesthood. It's so much more than that. Inform yourself before you criticize.

I remember the feeling I had 30 years ago on the Rick's campus as word spread that Sonia had been excommunicated. Fear shot through me that I couldn't quite describe. I knew then that the way I was thinking wasn't wrong, it just wasn't allowed and I was way to naive back then to connect that maybe the church was a place I just didn't belong. I have heard and read accounts of students and intellectuals in the 90's who understood the message sent then by the excommunication of the Sept 6 and how it drove them away or to silence. What would it take for the voices of those demanding change to be heard rather than silenced?

Now, I look at these new courageous women, connected through a medium not controlled by a dominant lds leadership in a broader more spread out church membership and wonder; is this the time? Is this the moment when equality for lds women can finally be realized?

When I think that women can't even pray in general conference and if this is threatening in anyway to the priesthood leadership, what then does that say about the church as a whole. My hope and prayer is that those in leadership can embrace womanhood for all it offers and not stifle into a "keep Sweet" kind of box. That, I am sure, may be a bit of a problem.

My hope is in these courageous women. They have within their grasp the tools of social media. This generation of women are more educated, more willing to speak out and less afraid and they are supported mostly by more confident and intelligent young men who are unaffected by stronger women in their lives. Maybe we were silenced outwardly 30 years ago but what they couldn't silence was the fact that as mothers we would raise sons and daughters to be unafraid of the changes and to see the need for change.

So here is to the petition for Women being able to say the Prayer in Conference. I'd sign it but I am on my way out of the morg, but if you're still in and you see this practise as condescending and ridiculous  sign it and make a change.

I wonder what Sonia is thinking right now about the FmH'ers? I hope she knows how much of an influence she had on so many of us and how grateful we are for her.

Good luck girls.

Reasoning the Unreasonable

"Why do you make surviving all about being abused? Is that all you hope to be and all that you are about?"

Surviving is about dealing with the scars from the abuse we endured and overcoming the pain from the past as we allow ourselves to heal. When it comes to spreading awareness, survivors use their stories of how they were abused to open people's eyes to the truth about what really goes on behind closed doors. Survivors are not all about being abused. No, we are about shedding light on the truth and we reach out to others by sharing our own experiences. We're about educating people on the dangers of abuse and exposing the truth for all to see. We're about giving other survivors and victims hope and faith that they can have a life after abuse and live an abuse free life. That it is possible. There would never be any change and none of us could ever make a difference if we didn't share our experiences with others. The life of a survivor and victim is not all glitter and glam. Abuse is not pretty and neither are the battles we face after we go from being a victim to becoming a survivor.

~ Abuse no More Tina H.

It's been a battle of the flu for the past few weeks. When my body is weakened my heart and soul becomes vulnerable. I spend my days recovering and my mind then wanders, back, to a more unpleasant time. It happens less and less now and I am so grateful for that but when my mind does recall the emotions what forefronts the most is regret coupled with the guilt that had I just been stronger, braver, whatever it could have been, I would have spared so much more harm to the blameless; my kids.

2012 brought about so many changes, mostly for the good. I saw myself stronger than I have ever been. I have reconnected to people I never thought possible and realized just how others needed distancing. I have disappointed family and I have impressed others. I opened up to possibilities of a better future and made bold decisions. Overall, I am improved and that is all we can mostly hope for when we look back on a past year.

My writing has dramatically slowed down. I would hope it was because I am a more content person. I think time management may be in play as well. Either way, I think I need to focus more on a resolutive prose, a healing narrative because I think, for the most part, the anger has dissipated.

I was on the FmH FB page today, a thread about ecclesiastical inaction over spousal and parental abuse was filling quickly. I comment so little on these forums, mostly because my emotional responses still hold so much anger and hurt they become ineffectual. Over and over the comments contained the lack of response from Bishops and Stake presidents in abuse matters. Every part of me wanted to write something, say something and yet all that I could even muster was "did you really think it would be different?"

Through everything the one most apparent lesson I have learned in this matter is that all the promises made through conference talks, RS lessons and sacramental talks from the pulpit is NOTHING will ever be done though empty promises of change are never ending. It's the reality of being a Mormon women in a church of misogynistic leadership, a "good old boys club" of protection.

Why can I say that? I have lived it. It's my reality.

I am not going to even bother with the details, too many and familiar. I think over 1/2 of the single members of the church have a story to tell. My bet would be most would find themselves exactly where I am; out of the fold.

I am going to do something today, I never thought I would. I am moving forward with removing my name.   For so many more reasons than this, when people ask me "are you Mormon?", I don't want to answer Yes any more. There is nothing, doctrinally, historically, or socially involved in Mormonism that I find any longing to be a part of anymore.

Why now? 

Let M answer that. 

It's time.

It's IRONIC really, the "good ol boy's club" saving the one and in turn losing 5. 

I have hope is those young FmHer's. Maybe they can affect change, maybe they will make a difference. Maybe their generation of singles sisters will garnish a respect so few of my generation were ever afforded.

Regrets

“Gentle reader, may you never feel what I then felt! May your eyes never shed such stormy, scalding, heart-wrung tears as poured from mine. May you never appeal to Heaven in prayers so hopeless and so agised as in that hour left my lips: for never may you, like me, dread to be the instrument of evil to what you wholly love.” ~Charlotte Bronte: Jane Eyre

Every once in a while my whole soul gets basted in the regrets of my past journey. I over analyse every mistake and every direction taken incorrectly and find myself self inflicting the lack of forgiveness required to overcome the consequences of those mistakes.

Had I been strong and full of the confidence to not allow myself to be abused I could have spared so much pain for every other member of that journey we shared. I have no doubt that with the self confidence to simple speak up in a positive and assertive way rather than shrink into the destructive pattern I might just have saved the heartache that some members of my family feel now. Oh, if I could just go backwards in time and be a better example, what I would give.

What am I on about?

Thousands and thousands of dollars in therapy taught me one of the most vital lessons to a healthy life. Change is entirely self driven. You cannot change others you can only change yourself. period.

So, what that means is, if life isn't working for you, what can YOU do to change it. Once I understood that concept I then knew that if I did all I could do to change my life, to make it better and those within it were unwilling to find the change in themselves a well, well then, that might just be an indicator to move on.

I think that sums up pretty neatly the reason I chose to walk away from a 20+ year marriage.

My fault lies in letting it be so dysfunctional for far too long.

I have had some time in the past few weeks to really look hard at who I am and what I am about.

Best described would be imperfect, completely, utterly imperfect.

I am so full of so many regrets.

I was set back by the actions of another, someone I thought would have had at least the decency to acknowledge his responsibility to his son, but he didn't. Didn't even answer the email to say no, just silence.

I have had to have my son wait now to fix a health problem that is huge. For the first time, I am overwhelmed by the financial responsibility of my children.

I remember my Mom, when I had no where to go but her house at 43 years old. she said: "I love you, I can't give you much but what I can give you in a roof over your head and food on the table."

When does our responsibility end as parents? When do you stop feeling the pangs of need your children have?

I guess for M, the day he married his second wife. That was the last day he ever contributed anything.

I used to say, when we were first married, that he was the kind of man that would do anything to provide for his family. Well history has proven me wrong.

When push came to shove, I was out at the $6.oo/hr job while he was home "working full time trying to find a full time job",  hmmnn, is that what he still says?

I have men angry these past few weeks, wanting to blame someone for this situation, wanting to scream, shout, do something to have M see that even legally, we could go after him to force him to help, make him help.

What good would that do?

Well, this is a tough one to let go, to not stew over. Being sick didn't help in the process of "letting go" either.

So, to get back to where I started, regrets can cripple a soul. Over and over again I have said that if the sole purpose of that 25 year marriage rests in that 4 beautiful, oh wait, that's six now, people are in my life fulfilling every warm part of my sole then I guess it's time to put away the regrets and get down to the living.

I know this post doesn't make sense, its a bit because it was started a month ago, medications still working and sometimes our pasts just simply don't make sense, ever.

Beginnings

Now this is not the end. It is not even the beginning of the end. 

But it is, perhaps, the end of the beginning. 

~ Sir Winston Churchill

I have always loved nature. I can't remember a time when being outside for me wasn't a testament of a loving God who provided such an amazing universe. I wonder if it was all those beautiful Sunbeam lessons about the Sun and the rain and the plants that used to be the guts of those early primary manuals. Either way, whether it be the LDS church or God, taking a big breath anywhere I go helps me to know who I am and what I am about on my sojourn here. 

I was away this holiday season. It was the first time in all of my years as a mother I wasn't with my children. I was with W's family who have taken me in as one of them and they are the "salt" of the earth. They are "GOOD" people.

They live in northern BC. Plenty of people wonder how anyone lives north of even Calgary but there is a particular type of Canadian that thrives in all that Canada has to offer both in the summer and winter. These H's know just how much joy can come out of living in the north. I can't describe just how much beauty there is up there, I would do it a disservice. I was in awe and still believe it is one of the most beautiful places I have ever been.

I haven't seen that much snow in one place unless a very bad storm had gone through Calgary. To them; it was the snow "so far".  It piles up thru to March and then melts and then spring comes and it becomes a beauty that Spring can only bring to a winter wonderland.

I dream of living in a place where the seasons are full and the landscape rustic. W continually tells of his adventures when living in Prince George and just how much he would love to live in a similar place where the pace is easier and the people, well, I don't know, the people are just different.

On the day we left, we woke early and it had snowed nearly all night. W filled the truck and we wished our hosts good bye. As we came out from behind the house and there, I saw it. Something I had never witnessed before. I can't say why I haven't, maybe because the Rockies illuminate so much over our western horizon in Calgary that it might get lost or maybe because I just never had noticed it before but there, through the woods, the moon was setting and my heart was stilled. What an unbelievably beautiful movement. 

I grabbed my camera and did the best I could to capture it but nothing in visual print could ever compare to the feeling I had of seeing the moon set. Weird I know, but wow, it moved me; changed me really. I wondered how someone could actually get to over 50 years old and never see the moon set so beautifully.

I have taken some barbs over these new relatives of mine. Someone once asked me to remove a nephew's FB feed over his hunting pictures. I have always refused. Not out of defence for his hunting but out of his defense to hunt. The H men are all alpha males. They hunt, they fish, they define "red neck" Canadian and yet each one of them has a tender heart for the women in their lives. They treat there mother like gold, and puff their chests in all it's maleness but still let there women be the women they are intended to be. The H women (including D) are clearly the strongest women I have ever met. They glue this family and they live life more fully then any other women I have known. They call  a spade a spade and expect the game to be fair. They have changed me for the better. Being in this new family has helped me heal in a way I never thought possible.

Peaceful Easy Feeling

Just checking in, I am 12 hours north of Calgary in Prince Gorge BC spending Christmas with my husbands family. It is the first time in 30 years I am without my children. It's harder than I thought but we will be together for New Years. w's family are incredible, they have been so amazing! It truly is the great white north up here, pics to follow. Today, a moose sauntered through the yard, spent about 2 hours making his way across the acreage, it felt like I was in w's idea of heaven. The way the snow falls here is different than anywhere else I have been, I can see why they live here, it's stunningly beautiful.
My kids are well taken care of, spending time with loved ones, I am so grateful for that. Well, gotta go but hey, Merry Christmas all!

Bitterness, no just angry!

Bitterness is like cancer. It eats upon the host. But anger is like fire, it burns it all clean.
~ Maya Angelou

2012 has been a hard year. I hadn't expected that when it started, it did however prove to be a bit of a struggle and I will say, I am grateful it is coming to an end.

I was going over the blog posts from the last year, reminiscing of the bipolar nature of some of the entries. Saw some growth and saw more importantly the weak areas. Having that ability to look back through your words is so enriching. I have been journaling for as long as I can remember, it has saved me a few times.

So, as in all the other posts;

What am I on about?

On Sunday, W, D and I were sitting in the family room watching movies, laughing and enjoying the end of the weekend. The puppies ears perked and then became restless. They danced around and made some noise and we shushed them. They settled soon after and we thought nothing more of it.

In the morning, as we were leaving for work, there sticking out of the mailbox was an envelope. I knew as soon as I saw it what is was and this sense of frustration welled up inside me. Really? Really? Wow. I had heard in June we had been placed on the "no Contact" list some time ago by our old bishop. All those months I had thought people had just dropped us and then I found out it was an organized shunning.

You see, the last time I had spoken to the bishop my words were that if we were to get home teachers again, could he at least make it a pair that would come. I guess in bishop speak that means stay away, at least in his mind anyway. For months I had felt so abandoned. In reality it had been an organized exclusion. All of a sudden, it seemed to all make sense and I got angry.

But the anger turned to bitterness and I got lost in it and then all the little things that I used to be able to let go seemed to be piling up again. I was snowballing into the dance and I knew that it was a dance I was really no good at. I realized it was time to get the hell off the dance floor.

Reading the letter reminded me of the dance.

It also came at an inopportune time.

I am in a bind with raising boo. He has a nearly $10,000.00 dental/orthodontic bill and for the first time since doing this alone I am seeing debt that seems insurmountable. It'd be lovely if this was all cosmetic but boo has some real overbite issues and the work has to be done, we knew this when he was 13, we knew it was coming I just didn't expect to being doing it alone.

Boo has made every offer in the book, to forgo Christmas, quit school for a semester, sell his car. W has even offered to pay and struggle with me. I just can't ask that of him, D is not his kid. And D has done far too much. given up so much already to lose anything more than he already has.

So I did something I thought I'd never do again. I decided to ask M for help.

I asked boo what he thought, through the conversation, as hard as it was, I knew he had to be every part of this journey. He has given up so much and worked so hard to keep the things in his life he truly loves. I wrote the first letter and D gave his 2c worth. It was sent.

It was ignored. I could have been bitter but I can't afford to be.

Last night D and I tried again. We sat and Boo talked and I listened. The letter was written quickly and sent and then this flood gate opened and it wasn't the one you would think.

D talked about G and about his life and about what it meant to be broken. As I heard him talk about his pain and his loss and the sacrifices we will need to make in order for him to have a pain free life I realized I get to be angry, I get to be pissed about a man that doesn't understand what he has done by ignoring the letters. Oh maybe he does know, maybe it's about getting even.

I wonder sometimes how we balance the bitterness and the anger, especially at this time of year.

I'll find a way to make this work with Boo. Years from now we'll laugh about it in the same sick way we laugh now about some of the most horrible things that happened years ago. It is a twisted way of coping and when we laugh it means in a very real the anger is subdued and the bitterness wasting away.

The bonus of this whole mess, hearing my son talk about falling in love and being in a relationship of shared values and mutual respect. Of where he thinks it might be going and what she means to him. You see, that kind of night, makes this journey so worth it.

Yeah, it's going to be hard and yeah, it's a bit frustrating to have a man that you shared over 20 years together be such an asshole that he can't even answer a letter but what I have now reminds me that being bitter is just not the answer. Just get mad, vent and then let it go.

Letting go as I type.

And there were tears.....

“Weeping is not the same thing as crying, It takes your whole body to weep, and when it`s over, you feel like you don`t have any bones left to hold you up.” ― Sarah Ockler, Twenty Boy Summer

Wow, what a week. It seems that when you feel the most secure, somehow, the proverbial rug knows it and it just comes out right from under you. When that happens, W whisks me to my happy place and zen is soon upon me.

Where do I begin, well, lets talk pants.

My only real contact left with the Mormon Church comes from membership to a few Facebook groups. One being the FMH or feminist Mormon housewives. Love those girls. They are unafraid of their own commitment to change. A blog was posted about a thought. Wear pants to church in support of gender equality in the Mormon faith. Another member put it into action and before you knew it all hell broke lose.

I joined knowing full well that I wouldn't be showing up to church in pants. For obvious reasons, me at church in pants wouldn't be about the pants but that I was even at church at all. The point would then be missed but I wanted to be a part of it in the way I could; a support number, one of the over 2000 that saw this as possible.

Well, when you join a group what happens is you get the updates and by 10am on Wednesday my iphone was creating a nuisance, bang, bang, bang. WTH! I opened FB to find one of the most obnoxious occurrences on FB I had ever seen.

Death threats, seriously? Over wearing pants to church. Penis implants. Really? Is a woman donning a pair of pants at church that threatening? Really? By Thursday at 1pm FB had to actually pull the site down. WOW, can we say Mormons behaving badly?

Private inboxes were filled with hate, women were berating each other and what was once a thought now appeared to be a full on war to get those snarly FMH'ers back into their kitchens preferably barefoot and preggers. 

I have to say I wasn't surprised, those of us who have been on the receiving end of Mormons behaving badly know just how capable people can be at dispelling hate in the name of their righteous indignation.

I actually wept for those young woman who honestly set out for a dialogue and ended up being crushed with hate. They held their own but it was a battle that wounded many. It may have even changed some long held thoughts that change can come from within? I hope not though.

No sooner had the dust settled from the first round when news of the Newton massacre was leaking out and somehow, pants seemed trivial. 

Hate is hate. It can be dispelled in words, in written attacks and even with a gun. The levels that one reach is most often associated to mental health. I am thinking the BYU student who wrote on the pants wall that all those women wearing pants to church needed to be lined up and shot in the head may possibly be rethinking his words in light of Friday's happenings.

I doubt we will ever know what brought a 20 years old young man to ever walk into a room full of young children and aim let alone shoot an automatic weapon killing almost all of them. There is a part of me that hopes I will never understand why because somehow understanding that is inconceivable to me. Understanding it means I understand that kind of evil and I just don't want to go there.

Same with all the hate that was dispelled to those beautiful women at FMH. I will never understand that, ever!

So today, as I open the FMH FB group and see picture after picture of women and children and husbands and sons in purple and pant suits I wonder if because of all that happened this week they were all saying so much more than anything a simple pair of pants could have said. It was more than just gender equality, it was about standing up for it all, for everyone.

Love those girls, just love em!