Sassy Mormon

Dear Heavenly Father  If you love me, can you make it stop? I want to be happy. Can you make it stop Heavenly Father? Yesterday during my morning prayers, I whispered these words with eyes full of tears, teeter-tottering on the edge of the depression I thought I had neatly shoved into the back of my closet at the beginning of this year. Between the stress of trying to find a new home with my parents, starting my makeup class, suspending my BYU application (for at least another year)😑 and planning a temple trip while still carrying out my church calling, life seems a little more chaotic than the Sassy Mormon is quite used to.These past few weeks have been the hardest and most stressful that I have ever had to deal with for a very long time and even though I assumed my faith was more than strong enough to keep me standing, somehow my emotional wall somehow cracked and crumbled to the ground. All my defenses, insecurities and fears suddenly came bubbling to the surface of...

Is it ever okay to be angry at church? A few weeks ago, a situation came up at church where a long serving member and I had a melee of words which left me feeling unsettled and quite honestly ready to leave the church. I've been honest about my past anger issues before on this blog, yet on this particular Sunday as I bit back my tongue giving this member the respect she wasn't giving me Heavenly Father super-glued my mouth shut preventing me from making a bad situation even worse. Although I was trying ultra hard, throughout the next few hours my anger continued to rise and boil until I was certain I was going to go absolutely mad. In my head and in my heart I felt wronged, wondering why Heavenly Father had kept me quiet. You should be defending yourself ! A small voice kept replaying in my head like a stuck record as I tried and failed to keep the smile on my face. I had no time to be angry.  If I remotely wanted to be normal and be engaged (during Gospel Pri...

There were no hugs from my dad on my baptism day. As I stood in my baptism poncho/smock thingy (hehe) I remember wishing and praying for a person who had never played a hands-on role in my life. What was I expecting? Years of screaming matches and mental abuse had strained our relationship beyond the repair of any family therapist. Most days we barely spoke and instead existed in a world of unpleasant grunts or snide remarks or a good old cock eye (what we in the Caribbean refer to as rolling our eyes).  For the most part I was fine with the way our relationship was. Neither of us were too stubborn to talk normally and with the exception of a few blowups every few months, I found that the longer we ignored each others' presence the more peace would exist in our home. After years of screaming matches, verbal and physical fights I enjoyed the peace and quiet. I craved it like a second skin and leaned upon it to protect me. It had become a useless crutch supporting a st...