- Clark Moustakas
Here's the thing. I sometimes talk about how much I love people. I think people are awesome, I really do. But, well... I have also been known to say things about being terrified of people. I can feel both, right?? I am a very introverted person with an unhealthy dose of social anxiety. So I really do love people. I just love them at a distance. Or in very small numbers. :)
It's taken years for me to come to terms with this about myself. In fact, for years I pretended that I was a super outgoing, bubbly type of person. I wasn't just pretending for other people's benefits. I was fooling myself as well. Because somewhere along the way I got it into my head that part of being "perfect" involved being a "people person." (The kind that actually likes being around people.) So for years I pretended that that's who I was. I went to parties, I threw parties, I went out of my way to meet new people, and I was always busy doing things with people. I felt a lot of what I now recognize as discomfort and anxiety, but back then I suppressed those feelings in pursuit of being a better person.
It's strange, looking back now, to think about how silly it is to believe that "the right way to be" is social and outgoing. I think some of that comes from society, but I also think a large portion of it came from my upbringing in the church. The church is, by its very nature, a social organization. Lots of people coming together and doing lots of things. Worship services, meetings, activities, classes, etc. Really, church participation is a non-stop list of things that are mostly social in one way or another. And there's nothing wrong with that. But it's awfully hard to fit in when you're introverted.
In fact, the things you're expected to do in the church, force you to be social. You're supposed to participate in lessons, teach classes, visit teach, attend meetings for whatever calling you're in, go to the temple, go to ward activities, give prayers in Sacrament meeting, give talks in Sacrament meeting, bear your testimony, get involved when the Relief Society needs some compassionate service done, go to Relief Society activities, have the missionaries over for dinner, etc. etc. The truth is that there isn't much of a place in the church for people who wish to attend but not actively participate in all those things. Assumptions are made and labels are applied. People who wish to be seen as good Mormons have to conform to the expectations. And I believe that's why I felt such a strong need to be outgoing and social and involved. On some sub-conscious level it was all part of my effort to be the best Mormon I could be.
It was so exhausting though. And I didn't even know why.
It wasn't until after I met Cedric that I began to relax a little bit. From the very beginning he has treated me in such a way that has really given me permission to be myself, even if I wasn't really sure who that was yet. The more I relaxed myself through his influence, the more I discovered how much I loved being alone, and that I actually didn't enjoy all the social stuff. It seemed so counter-intuitive to everything I'd always thought.
The more I became aware of my introvertedness and my social anxiety, the more I gave myself permission to accept that as okay. In the last few years of my membership in the church, I even surprised myself by saying "no" occasionally. (Scandalous, I know.) I asked to be released as a visiting teacher. I turned down callings that I didn't feel comfortable with. I refused an invitation to teach as a substitute in the Relief Society. On all of these occasions, no one asked me why I didn't want to do those things. However I was frequently guilt tripped about the importance of participation, and not being selfish and hiding our light under a bushel and crap like that. It really annoyed me that no one cared why I was turning these things down, but that they still seemed to know what was best for me. I guess I should have recognized the writing on the wall back then. I was beginning to care more about myself and my own needs than I was about the church. Back then I would have thought that was something I needed to repent of. Now I recognize just how healthy and important it is!
I remember the last talk I ever gave in Sacrament meeting, which was probably about a year before we left. I had said no when Cedric and I were asked to speak, but the bishopric member wouldn't take no for an answer. I repeatedly tried to say I was uncomfortable with it, but he would have none of it, so I ended up giving in to his pressure. The whole experience was so uncomfortable for me. I was literally shaking the entire time I was on the stand. (Why do they make you sit up there through the whole meeting anyway?! It's just like added torture!) At some point during that meeting I thought about how ridiculous it all was. My ability to speak in front of a crowd had absolutely nothing to do with my faith!
I feel like I'm rambling a bit, but there is a moral to this story. Since we've left the church it's been easier than ever for me to fully accept myself as an introvert. There is no longer any external pressure for me to conform to a certain way of being. I will probably always be introverted. I'm happy that way. I really love being alone with my thoughts, and I really hate crowds. There's nothing wrong with that. I think it would be nice if I could stop being so terrified of people, but even if I never make much progress on that, THAT'S OKAY.
So this is a story about how I didn't fit in very well at church because I was an introvert. I could be here all day telling different stories of painful memories on this subject. But I could just as easily tell stories about how I didn't fit in because I was a 30-something married woman without kids. Or Cedric could tell stories about how he didn't fit in because he'd rather be outside doing something active than sitting through long meetings. Or a friend of mine could tell stories about how she doesn't fit in because she's a 30-something who hasn't married yet. All kinds of people could tell stories about not fitting in because they're too intellectual, or career-minded, or gay, or they're not much into rules, or they only have 2 kids and that's by choice, or they don't have a year's supply, or they don't like doing family history, or whatever!
The church tries to fit people into all these narrow little boxes. It wants us all to be virtually the same. There are ridiculous expectations set up that have nothing to do with whether or not you're a good person, but then somehow these things become associated with "good" and "bad." And you know what? It's all bullshit.
I know I talk about this a lot, but I think it's important. I think one of the most damaging aspects of the church is that it teaches you that in order to be loveable, in order to be acceptable, you have to meet certain expectations. This kind of thinking is toxic. I've experienced it in my own life, and I've seen it in countless others.
You are who you are. Accept that. Love yourself for who you are, not who you wish you could be based on expectations set because of outside influences. Don't let others tell you who you should work on becoming. That's a control mechanism, and you shouldn't give others control over your life. Get to know yourself and learn to love yourself, flaws and all. I honestly don't even like the word "flaws" because it implies that there is a "right" and a "wrong," and there just isn't! You're awesome just the way you are! If you don't believe me, then you need to just spend some time getting to know yourself better, and learning to love yourself. Seriously, give it a try. I dare you.
