10 ICSA TODAY
My name is Camilla, and this is my story about growing up in,
and eventually leaving, Mormonism.
My family was far from the perfect Mormon family. Both my
parents converted in their youth before they met each other,
so we had no Mormon relatives. My dad, who still is a bit of a
character (he looks exactly like the guy in the movie Up), had
a strong will and absolute conviction that everyone else was a
bit deluded—save for him, of course, who really was the only
one who understood life. He used to work as night guard of
the church temple. Therefore it was my father who took care of
me and my sisters and brother after school, while my mother
was at work. She, in contrast, was everything Mormons praise:
achieving and successful.
As I was growing up, it was my dad I saw getting the side glances
and nasty comments for not having a career, rather than my
mom for not staying at home, which is usually what a good
Mormon wife is encouraged to do. However, my mother had an
aura that made her a natural leader and a role model for others.
It is funny that peoples’ perceptions, including mine, were that it
was my mother who was the True Believing Mormon and not my
father, when, as it turned out, it was the other way around.
I am Swedish, and most Swedes are atheists. Growing up a
Mormon meant constantly having to talk about and defend my
faith. It was impossible during my teenage years not to stand
out since I was not allowed to drink alcohol, swear, or smoke
cigarettes. My dad was also convinced that if I spent more than
5 minutes alone with a boy, we would have sex and I would go
straight to hell. Sex outside of marriage is one of the worst sins in
Mormonism, and it was a prohibition my dad took very seriously.
Mormons believe in the Bible and in the Book of Mormon. I was
taught that the Book of Mormon was the most correct book
ever written. I was taught that if I was worthy and asked God
with a sincere heart, the Holy Ghost would confirm, through a
warm and amazing feeling, our faith being the absolute truth.
So at 14 years of age, I knelt down in prayer beside my bed
and asked God about the authenticity of the book, and I felt
nothing. Absolutely nothing. Devastated and ashamed, I kept
this experience a secret and felt that the blame was mine. Maybe
I was not worthy, or maybe I had not done it right. I tried again,
but to no avail.
I was alone with my secret and 2 years passed, until one day my
teacher touched on this very subject. She told us her story, and
that she had felt nothing. The lack of confirmation had burdened
her until she realized that she already knew the church was true,
so she did not need the validation. As the lesson continued
in this way, I went from feeling like a failure to feeling chosen.
Suddenly I had become one of just a few people so strong in
faith that a validation from God was completely unnecessary.
Apart from no alcohol, no cigarettes, and basically no dating,
someone being a Mormon is not something outsiders would
notice. I was taught to socialize and be active in society, but
with the unspoken rule to do missionary work undercover. We
were widely encouraged to give our testimony or to hand out a
Book of Mormon if the opportunity arose. I remember adoring
my mother when she came home from work and shared a story
of how she had been able to bear her testimony at work and I
felt so proud when one of my classmates in high school actually
converted.
Since all of my father’s colleagues were Mormon, his situation
was a bit different. He impressed by being the Good Samaritan
time and time again. Many times I saw him help people who
were on the brink of personal bankruptcy, but I never once saw
him brag or tell others about it. He did what he could in silence,
which made a huge impact on me, and I admired him for it.
What Changed My Mind
By Camilla Hanke
This paper is based on a presentation at ICSA’s 2015 Annual Conference in Stockholm.
…my mother … was everything
Mormons praise: achieving
and successful.
ICSA 2015 Annual Conference -Stockholm, Sweden
My name is Camilla, and this is my story about growing up in,
and eventually leaving, Mormonism.
My family was far from the perfect Mormon family. Both my
parents converted in their youth before they met each other,
so we had no Mormon relatives. My dad, who still is a bit of a
character (he looks exactly like the guy in the movie Up), had
a strong will and absolute conviction that everyone else was a
bit deluded—save for him, of course, who really was the only
one who understood life. He used to work as night guard of
the church temple. Therefore it was my father who took care of
me and my sisters and brother after school, while my mother
was at work. She, in contrast, was everything Mormons praise:
achieving and successful.
As I was growing up, it was my dad I saw getting the side glances
and nasty comments for not having a career, rather than my
mom for not staying at home, which is usually what a good
Mormon wife is encouraged to do. However, my mother had an
aura that made her a natural leader and a role model for others.
It is funny that peoples’ perceptions, including mine, were that it
was my mother who was the True Believing Mormon and not my
father, when, as it turned out, it was the other way around.
I am Swedish, and most Swedes are atheists. Growing up a
Mormon meant constantly having to talk about and defend my
faith. It was impossible during my teenage years not to stand
out since I was not allowed to drink alcohol, swear, or smoke
cigarettes. My dad was also convinced that if I spent more than
5 minutes alone with a boy, we would have sex and I would go
straight to hell. Sex outside of marriage is one of the worst sins in
Mormonism, and it was a prohibition my dad took very seriously.
Mormons believe in the Bible and in the Book of Mormon. I was
taught that the Book of Mormon was the most correct book
ever written. I was taught that if I was worthy and asked God
with a sincere heart, the Holy Ghost would confirm, through a
warm and amazing feeling, our faith being the absolute truth.
So at 14 years of age, I knelt down in prayer beside my bed
and asked God about the authenticity of the book, and I felt
nothing. Absolutely nothing. Devastated and ashamed, I kept
this experience a secret and felt that the blame was mine. Maybe
I was not worthy, or maybe I had not done it right. I tried again,
but to no avail.
I was alone with my secret and 2 years passed, until one day my
teacher touched on this very subject. She told us her story, and
that she had felt nothing. The lack of confirmation had burdened
her until she realized that she already knew the church was true,
so she did not need the validation. As the lesson continued
in this way, I went from feeling like a failure to feeling chosen.
Suddenly I had become one of just a few people so strong in
faith that a validation from God was completely unnecessary.
Apart from no alcohol, no cigarettes, and basically no dating,
someone being a Mormon is not something outsiders would
notice. I was taught to socialize and be active in society, but
with the unspoken rule to do missionary work undercover. We
were widely encouraged to give our testimony or to hand out a
Book of Mormon if the opportunity arose. I remember adoring
my mother when she came home from work and shared a story
of how she had been able to bear her testimony at work and I
felt so proud when one of my classmates in high school actually
converted.
Since all of my father’s colleagues were Mormon, his situation
was a bit different. He impressed by being the Good Samaritan
time and time again. Many times I saw him help people who
were on the brink of personal bankruptcy, but I never once saw
him brag or tell others about it. He did what he could in silence,
which made a huge impact on me, and I admired him for it.
What Changed My Mind
By Camilla Hanke
This paper is based on a presentation at ICSA’s 2015 Annual Conference in Stockholm.
…my mother … was everything
Mormons praise: achieving
and successful.
ICSA 2015 Annual Conference -Stockholm, Sweden
