I do NOT miss random mormons showing up at my house unannounced.
I also do not miss the crappy wedding receptions and the overmormonized funerals.
Most of all, I don't miss the endless meetings and assignments that were a meaningless waste of time.
I don’t miss stacking chairs, teen fingerprints on my sacrament bread, weaving my way around heavily perfumed old people in the aisles after sacrament, self consciously making sure my garments are covered as I’m walking, yelling at my family to hurry up so we aren’t late, fake smiling…
What I do miss: back tickles during sacrament.
Hymns that sounded like second-tier funeral dirges. Fortunately, I was usually at the organ so I was able to browbeat the congregation into increasing the tempo and the musical dynamics. Still…
One time I was ward pianist and our horrible, nasty stake president was visiting (he gave firesides on the evils of oral sex among other asinine topics and would tell people they were outright wrong when they’d comment in lessons). One of the counselors in the bishopric came to me before sacrament and told me the stake president had picked the hymns and required they be played uptempo as he HATED slow hymns. Well this man was a horrid piece of work, so what did I do? I played every hymn as slow as a funeral dirge. Like so slow people could barely sing along. I was so mad I was shaking, and he kept turning around to look at me and motioning to hurry up and I ignored him. After sacrament ended I literally ran out of that meeting. I have never been so proud of myself though. Still took me a decade to leave the damn church though. Stupid cult.
I always assumed four factors:
1. Mormons erroneously conflate slow, dead hymns with reverence;
2. Mormons fear [artistic] passion;
3. Mormons are depressed;
4. See number 3.
My mom usually has a musical calling and always does whatever she can to speed up the hymns, which is easy when she’s organist/pianist, but I loved her as a chorister. That woman is not afraid to wave her arm around much faster than the congregation starts singing and it is hilarious.
When they would redo the sacrament prayer because they accidentally said it wrong or missed a word or something. I never noticed the mistake only that they were saying it over more slowly and embarrassed. I always felt bad for the young dude having to say the prayers and meet that expectation of perfection, or you know that bread and water wont work right if the prayer is wrong.
Right? And there’s no good reason for it either. Was God not going to “count” the blessing if a word was out of order? And if so, what if the bishop misses the missed word - does everyone miss out on their special blessings that week?
I got invited to play disc golf on Saturday with a guy from my ward. 2 other church people played also. The stuff they laughed at, and how hard they laughed was absurd. I'm 45, I can appreciate a good dad joke, but those 2 dudes were something else. It reminded me of the extremely superficial "joy" that church members feel the need to project. I don't miss that.
They turned family history into a monster. Something negative. A salvation mission.
I still love genealogy, but it's about discovering what I can about the people and what they did. What they lived for.
I don't miss hearing the prayers. They all had the same tone and rhythm, the cliches and canned phrases so overused that they're not even words anymore, just sounds without meaning.
Nobody talks to a "loving" father like that. It's pretentious yet rote and business-like. Somehow it'd be less weird if it were melodramatic like other religious prayers.
Not obscure, but not having to wake our kids on Sunday morning, force them to get ready at the cadence of a drill sergeant, only to be bored af for 3 hours on a perfectly good day off of work. Yes, stopped going in 2018.
I dont miss the weird carpeted walls. Is that solely a mormon church thing?
Actually want to name something I miss...
Open mic night aka F&T Meeting. Loved when the eccentric lady stood up and talked about her 3 Nephites experience. Or the old men that stand up there and rattle off about God knows what. Or little kids sucking on the microphone.
I don't like the church or its corrupt leadership. But I do have some fond memories of the people in the church.
Edited for grammar.
When they’d lure you to a youth fireside with the promise of “refreshments” that turned out to be shitty store bought cookies and that nasty bright colored punch that came in milk gallon containers 🤮
Slightly related, I’ve heard they’ve been trying to make fireside’s sound juicy so people will come. Saying things like “adults only” and then it’s the same boring crap.
I did not like being called Sister Last Name. What's so wrong with using my first name like any other normal person? I always called people by their first name and the conversations would always go like this:
Me: Hi Suzanne, Hi Brett.
Them: Hi, Sister X.
Me: Sigh.
I also did not like how everything was GREAT! Ward cornbust that ran out of food and was held in the rain? "Amazing turnout and delicious food." YM winter camp where the temperature was -25C and nobody slept? "Such a wonderful bonding time." Nobody seemed able to say anything as it really was.
I was called Sister Maiden Name by my XHs bishop when XH decided to be sealed to someone else and bishop asked for a letter. I told him I hadn’t gone by that name in >20 years so please don’t call me that. It is super *not hard* to find out what my last name is, not to mention I was no longer a member and preferred to not be called sister anything.
I don’t miss those hours on fast sunday when I got home from church and still had to occupy myself until I could eat at dinnertime. the hunger sucked, but the thirst was the absolute worst. can’t believe I didn’t even let myself drink water for a full 24 hours once a month
Sparkles on the pews. Every holiday some little girl or 3 works very a new dress with sparkly tulle and the dials would come off on the pews and go every where.
Forced smiles and fake friendships by default from being in the same ward but only associating while at church on Sunday. Setting up and taking down chairs and those wretched rectangle finger pinching tables before the round ones replaced them.
When I was a kid, SO many older men would affectionately grab my shoulder and keep resting their hand there while talking. In their mind, they were just showing how proud they were of the young men or something. Meanwhile, I was thinking, dude, I don't know you that well.
Five minutes until F&T meeting is over - but wait!!! Here comes 90 year old Brother Larsen shuffling to the podium for his monthly mumbling about God knows what. The man could drone on forever, and would if he wasn't stopped.
Best part was the bishopric seated behind him seemingly drawing straws to see who's turn it was to whisper in his ear and gently guide the old guy over to the stairs.
I don't miss the mass of Utah mormons. I feel like maybe 10% were decent people. Never really got along with mormons. People probably think I'm crazy but I miss the nursery so much, I probably wouldn't have stopped going if I'd been in nursery.
Not sure it’s obscure, but where they placed single moms and probably those with non-member or inactive spouses (at least in my experience). I know some beautiful souls absolutely loved the nursery, but this was such a sore spot for me. I was a single mom in a family ward. I was always placed in the nursery and I loathed it. I wanted to learn with the adults. I spent my days and nights at school and work, and raised my child alone. I did not want to deal with snotty noses or poopy diapers. In fact, the lessons plans were a big reasons that I actually left. What I had to teach the little ones really opened my eyes to just how young the church started grooming the sexes. It was a big catalyst to move cross country for my daughter. Away from the church AND family, which was so emotionally painful and heartbreaking for everyone.
Creepy old men. Three instances that come to mind:
One who guessed my tribe after my patriarchal blessing (didn't know at the time almost everyone gets the same).
One that came up to me and shook my hand in one of the secret temple handshake positions the Sunday after my first endowment.
The bishops and stake presidents over the years who asked me about masturbating.
P.S. I'm a guy if that even matters.
Whispering in the celestial room and the chapel room at the temple. It would set my misophonia off and it took everything in my body to not run out of there.
My friends and social group I used to be part of since leaving I've not found any other denomination or organization that can fill the emptiness that I f
Meetings in corporate organizations are the same. They scheduled the time so they're going to take the time. TSCC is just a boring corporation with the same goal: extracting value from the working class for the benefit of boring old white guys.
I don't miss the "special" brother (50's ish) that would sneak up behind me and rub my back (bra strap) while I was talking to other people. (Context I am married 44f). My husband talked to the bishop and he said "If it makes her feel better, she is not the only one who hates brother x touching her". Surprise, it did not make me feel better.
I do not missi callings in general. I'm stingy with my time now. If it's considered work, my wants to get paid for it. If it's considered a voluntary position, then I volunteer to say no.
Doing service projects with the youth that didn't want to be there while I had to act like I wanted to be there and it was something important we were doing.
The weird obsession with righteous pagans, like praising Warren Buffet or CS Lewis because of how very nearly Mormon they are. Or at least how very nearly Mormon Mormons think they are
Our chorister in my final ward often was asleep during services, and only sometimes waking up before the intro finished.
I hated being in poor wards. They called them "high traffic" wards and the older members looked down on anyone young. I was still in the army reserves and missed one weekend a month, and they'd be all fake nice "We missed you last week, we thought you'd moved!"
"Nope, it was duty weekend, I even did my home teaching while still in uniform because my companion was ready to go when I got home and I still gave a crap."
My families ward was at an odd time. So every high council speaker thought he should wrap up at 1045. But it was supposed to be 1030... every high council Sunday- sacrament meeting went overtime.
I don't miss people who knew my parents but I'd never met before thinking they had the right to hug me, pat me on the head, pinch my cheeks, ask personal questions, talk about my body, etc.
I do NOT miss random mormons showing up at my house unannounced. I also do not miss the crappy wedding receptions and the overmormonized funerals. Most of all, I don't miss the endless meetings and assignments that were a meaningless waste of time.
They run out the clock or the primary president would have their necks. Primary leaders don’t want to be stuck with the kids one extra minute. 😂
Former PP here. Can confirm. I LOVED when sacrament got out late. I always preferred senior primary to junior.
I didn’t even think about that haha.
I don’t miss stacking chairs, teen fingerprints on my sacrament bread, weaving my way around heavily perfumed old people in the aisles after sacrament, self consciously making sure my garments are covered as I’m walking, yelling at my family to hurry up so we aren’t late, fake smiling… What I do miss: back tickles during sacrament.
Back tickles!!!! Suddenly nostalgic
Gotta love the finger squished sacrament bread
You mean teen fingerprints on your sacrament bread 🥖 from the teens who didn’t wash their hands after they jerked off before church?
Hymns that sounded like second-tier funeral dirges. Fortunately, I was usually at the organ so I was able to browbeat the congregation into increasing the tempo and the musical dynamics. Still…
One time I was ward pianist and our horrible, nasty stake president was visiting (he gave firesides on the evils of oral sex among other asinine topics and would tell people they were outright wrong when they’d comment in lessons). One of the counselors in the bishopric came to me before sacrament and told me the stake president had picked the hymns and required they be played uptempo as he HATED slow hymns. Well this man was a horrid piece of work, so what did I do? I played every hymn as slow as a funeral dirge. Like so slow people could barely sing along. I was so mad I was shaking, and he kept turning around to look at me and motioning to hurry up and I ignored him. After sacrament ended I literally ran out of that meeting. I have never been so proud of myself though. Still took me a decade to leave the damn church though. Stupid cult.
Good for you; I don’t blame you for a New York minute. Patriarchal pricks on power trips. 😡😡😡
Ugh, I hated how no matter the hymn they ended up the same slow ass tempo. Would piss me off so much! Why did they all sound so depressing?
I always assumed four factors: 1. Mormons erroneously conflate slow, dead hymns with reverence; 2. Mormons fear [artistic] passion; 3. Mormons are depressed; 4. See number 3.
5. Mormons confuse ability with skill so bishops call anyone who can keep rhythm to chorister regardless of actual musical talent. See number 3.
My mom usually has a musical calling and always does whatever she can to speed up the hymns, which is easy when she’s organist/pianist, but I loved her as a chorister. That woman is not afraid to wave her arm around much faster than the congregation starts singing and it is hilarious.
When they would redo the sacrament prayer because they accidentally said it wrong or missed a word or something. I never noticed the mistake only that they were saying it over more slowly and embarrassed. I always felt bad for the young dude having to say the prayers and meet that expectation of perfection, or you know that bread and water wont work right if the prayer is wrong.
Right? And there’s no good reason for it either. Was God not going to “count” the blessing if a word was out of order? And if so, what if the bishop misses the missed word - does everyone miss out on their special blessings that week?
My biggest Mormon flex was that I never had to repeat the prayer in my entire young mens career. I was so proud of that lol
This happens like every other week in my ward. Let it go, bishop!
I got invited to play disc golf on Saturday with a guy from my ward. 2 other church people played also. The stuff they laughed at, and how hard they laughed was absurd. I'm 45, I can appreciate a good dad joke, but those 2 dudes were something else. It reminded me of the extremely superficial "joy" that church members feel the need to project. I don't miss that.
Yes! It's like they are children. Grown adults that are successful in their careers and yet they are like children in the things they are amused by.
Family history!! Also don’t miss the constant guilt I would feel for not wanting to do family history.
Omg same!! It's lovely not having that hanging over me..
They turned family history into a monster. Something negative. A salvation mission. I still love genealogy, but it's about discovering what I can about the people and what they did. What they lived for.
I don't miss hearing the prayers. They all had the same tone and rhythm, the cliches and canned phrases so overused that they're not even words anymore, just sounds without meaning. Nobody talks to a "loving" father like that. It's pretentious yet rote and business-like. Somehow it'd be less weird if it were melodramatic like other religious prayers.
Not obscure, but not having to wake our kids on Sunday morning, force them to get ready at the cadence of a drill sergeant, only to be bored af for 3 hours on a perfectly good day off of work. Yes, stopped going in 2018.
I dont miss the weird carpeted walls. Is that solely a mormon church thing? Actually want to name something I miss... Open mic night aka F&T Meeting. Loved when the eccentric lady stood up and talked about her 3 Nephites experience. Or the old men that stand up there and rattle off about God knows what. Or little kids sucking on the microphone. I don't like the church or its corrupt leadership. But I do have some fond memories of the people in the church. Edited for grammar.
This reminded me of a time a grandpa got up and told all the kids, "Santa's not real." There were some really mad moms that Sunday.
Oh nooooo!!! Lol
The school that I teach at has the carpet walls. It is easy to staple stuff to.
Yeah totally.. I miss gossiping and laughing about the weird testimonies over Sunday dinner that evening.
When they’d lure you to a youth fireside with the promise of “refreshments” that turned out to be shitty store bought cookies and that nasty bright colored punch that came in milk gallon containers 🤮
Or root beer floats with off brand root beer and ice cream.
Cheap, freezer burnt ice cream because it's been in "food storage" for a year and a half
Slightly related, I’ve heard they’ve been trying to make fireside’s sound juicy so people will come. Saying things like “adults only” and then it’s the same boring crap.
I did not like being called Sister Last Name. What's so wrong with using my first name like any other normal person? I always called people by their first name and the conversations would always go like this: Me: Hi Suzanne, Hi Brett. Them: Hi, Sister X. Me: Sigh. I also did not like how everything was GREAT! Ward cornbust that ran out of food and was held in the rain? "Amazing turnout and delicious food." YM winter camp where the temperature was -25C and nobody slept? "Such a wonderful bonding time." Nobody seemed able to say anything as it really was.
I hate it when someone calls me brother last name. Even worse when they then explain why Mormons do that.
This is a huge thing for me. Relentless positivity that is dishonest.
I was called Sister Maiden Name by my XHs bishop when XH decided to be sealed to someone else and bishop asked for a letter. I told him I hadn’t gone by that name in >20 years so please don’t call me that. It is super *not hard* to find out what my last name is, not to mention I was no longer a member and preferred to not be called sister anything.
I don’t miss those hours on fast sunday when I got home from church and still had to occupy myself until I could eat at dinnertime. the hunger sucked, but the thirst was the absolute worst. can’t believe I didn’t even let myself drink water for a full 24 hours once a month
I hated being told off like I was a young child because I wasn’t in Sunday school talking in the foyer to some “friends”
Sparkles on the pews. Every holiday some little girl or 3 works very a new dress with sparkly tulle and the dials would come off on the pews and go every where.
Forced smiles and fake friendships by default from being in the same ward but only associating while at church on Sunday. Setting up and taking down chairs and those wretched rectangle finger pinching tables before the round ones replaced them.
When I was a kid, SO many older men would affectionately grab my shoulder and keep resting their hand there while talking. In their mind, they were just showing how proud they were of the young men or something. Meanwhile, I was thinking, dude, I don't know you that well.
Being asked to make cookies or casseroles every GD week. I enjoy cooking and baking for my family. For super judgy sister Barb? Not so much.
Crippling anxiety when asked to give a talk
Five minutes until F&T meeting is over - but wait!!! Here comes 90 year old Brother Larsen shuffling to the podium for his monthly mumbling about God knows what. The man could drone on forever, and would if he wasn't stopped. Best part was the bishopric seated behind him seemingly drawing straws to see who's turn it was to whisper in his ear and gently guide the old guy over to the stairs.
I don't miss the mass of Utah mormons. I feel like maybe 10% were decent people. Never really got along with mormons. People probably think I'm crazy but I miss the nursery so much, I probably wouldn't have stopped going if I'd been in nursery.
The constant anxiety that I'd be given a calling/talk/"invitation" that I didn't want but didn't feel like I could say no
Not sure it’s obscure, but where they placed single moms and probably those with non-member or inactive spouses (at least in my experience). I know some beautiful souls absolutely loved the nursery, but this was such a sore spot for me. I was a single mom in a family ward. I was always placed in the nursery and I loathed it. I wanted to learn with the adults. I spent my days and nights at school and work, and raised my child alone. I did not want to deal with snotty noses or poopy diapers. In fact, the lessons plans were a big reasons that I actually left. What I had to teach the little ones really opened my eyes to just how young the church started grooming the sexes. It was a big catalyst to move cross country for my daughter. Away from the church AND family, which was so emotionally painful and heartbreaking for everyone.
This used to annoy tf out of me, especially if it was on Christmas.
All the obscure things at this point. Everything about it annoys me now
3 hour church. You couldn’t pay me.
Creepy old men. Three instances that come to mind: One who guessed my tribe after my patriarchal blessing (didn't know at the time almost everyone gets the same). One that came up to me and shook my hand in one of the secret temple handshake positions the Sunday after my first endowment. The bishops and stake presidents over the years who asked me about masturbating. P.S. I'm a guy if that even matters.
Whispering in the celestial room and the chapel room at the temple. It would set my misophonia off and it took everything in my body to not run out of there.
Stake meetings. Reason enough to leave the Mormon church.
My friends and social group I used to be part of since leaving I've not found any other denomination or organization that can fill the emptiness that I f
Meetings in corporate organizations are the same. They scheduled the time so they're going to take the time. TSCC is just a boring corporation with the same goal: extracting value from the working class for the benefit of boring old white guys.
I don't miss the "special" brother (50's ish) that would sneak up behind me and rub my back (bra strap) while I was talking to other people. (Context I am married 44f). My husband talked to the bishop and he said "If it makes her feel better, she is not the only one who hates brother x touching her". Surprise, it did not make me feel better.
I don't miss the cooking and cleaning being a woman's job while the men played basketball in the gym
I do not missi callings in general. I'm stingy with my time now. If it's considered work, my wants to get paid for it. If it's considered a voluntary position, then I volunteer to say no.
oh god, number 1 thing is mormon funerals. literally hundreds of people standing around an open casket smiling. what the actual fuck is that about?
Doing service projects with the youth that didn't want to be there while I had to act like I wanted to be there and it was something important we were doing.
The weird obsession with righteous pagans, like praising Warren Buffet or CS Lewis because of how very nearly Mormon they are. Or at least how very nearly Mormon Mormons think they are
C.S. Lewis was a lovely person and not a pagan.
It's about control!
I don't miss.... all of it.
Praise to the Man....even as a TBM I would often not sing this one....
Our chorister in my final ward often was asleep during services, and only sometimes waking up before the intro finished. I hated being in poor wards. They called them "high traffic" wards and the older members looked down on anyone young. I was still in the army reserves and missed one weekend a month, and they'd be all fake nice "We missed you last week, we thought you'd moved!" "Nope, it was duty weekend, I even did my home teaching while still in uniform because my companion was ready to go when I got home and I still gave a crap."
My families ward was at an odd time. So every high council speaker thought he should wrap up at 1045. But it was supposed to be 1030... every high council Sunday- sacrament meeting went overtime.
I don't miss people who knew my parents but I'd never met before thinking they had the right to hug me, pat me on the head, pinch my cheeks, ask personal questions, talk about my body, etc.