I am not a bad person

And I should not have to keep reminding myself of that. I should not and will not agree that verbal and psychological abuse is something I should tolerate in the name of bridge-building. I do not need to listen to assumptions made about my alleged poor character.

Just because I have left the church, it is not — I repeat NOT — to be assumed that I must naturally be doing all of the following:

  • Spending each night in a bar to become inebriated and then find a pack of syphilis-infested leather-clad biker lesbians to take home for a meth-fueled orgy which will be streamed live on the internet
  • Devising ways to infect younger relatives with my apostate ways and drag them away from the church
  • Encouraging said younger relatives to inject a concoction of whisky and crack cocaine directly into their veins whilst getting a tattoo of Jesus holding up a middle finger to the cross
  • Consulting with a doctor to see what I can do to allow my vagina to handle as many sexual liasons as possible per day
  • Scheduling a regular monthly abortion
  • Ridding my wardrobe of anything that isn’t a miniskirt or a Wonderbra
  • Praying to God just to let him know all the naughty things I’m up to and then tell him to sod off when I get to the bit where I’m supposed to say I’m sorry

And so on.

I know that the people in my life who have revealed that their love for me is very, very conditional are just following their programming and are not putting any thought into their reactions at all. Which is why they are utterly unable to see me as I am and instead see the snarling, monstrous stock character they are taught to see when they think of the word “apostate”.

But just for the edification of the web, my entertainments of the previous weekend did consist of the following:

  • Steam cleaning the carpets
  • Admiring said carpets for their renewed softness and dirt-free state
  • Rewarding myself for a job well done with a nice cup of camomile tea and an afternoon of crocheting

Get over yourselves, Morons Mormons. Quit projecting your fantasies about the fun you aren’t having onto people like me. We’ve been through enough.

11 thoughts on “I am not a bad person

  1. Even worse, to my mind, is the assumption that if you aren’t doing those things, you must (naturally) expend copious amounts of effort proving that you’re not. It’s “guilty until proven innocent”. I read something yesterday that, to me, really summed up the problem:

    The man of superior “righteousness” takes action, and has an ulterior motive.
    The man of superior “propriety” takes action,
    And when people do not respond to it, he will stretch out his arm and force it on them” Tao Te Ching, 38.

    • How funny! I’ve been reading the Tao Te Ching myself and have been really enjoying its focus on modesty, minding your own business, and refraining from judgment!!

      • The really sad thing is that the Bible (or parts of it) espouses these same principles…but, then again, nobody reads the actual book. Mr. CJ and I went out to dinner the other night (where I imbibed alcohol…I’ve discovered that–in moderation, anyway–I like it), and got into a discussion of the church. I told him, at this point, the only reason I consider myself a “Christian” is that I like the Book of Matthew. Although, to be perfectly honest, I could give the rest of the thing a miss.

        It’s remarkably freeing, not feeling like I have to attend church, have people I don’t like over to my house, and read “literature” with no redeeming literary value all day long. I’ve gotten back into my hobbies more, and that, in of itself, has been a fascinating (and discouraging) object lesson in how much of our time the church really sucks away.

        In the short months I’ve been church-free, I’ve managed to make this:

        http://glorioustwelfth.blogspot.com/2011/01/nonesuch-house-smaller-scale-112-scale.html

        It’s a standing testament to how worthless those lost hours really were. I can’t decide if I’m excited or ashamed. Our dining room table is currently covered with various miniature bits and pieces, which Mr. CJ tactfully pretends not to notice. He’s just relieved that I’m not longer trying to justify the wearing of magic underwear.

      • I figure, I shouldn’t feel guilty for spending so much time on minis, as surely it’s no more ridiculous than church-related activities šŸ˜‰

  2. Hey! You need to come over to my depravity, er house. When I left the church my mother told everyone I joined a commune and was the guru’s personal sex favorite. Our commune sold drugs and leather items to make money. An aunt saw me at a Renn Faire and swore the rumors my mom was spreading was obviously true, cuz you can’t wear laced up bodices and feathers in your cap without being a total skank.
    Wish I’d of been there. Actually I had two jobs to try to support myself as a divorced mom with 2 kids. When would I have had the time or energy for a horny guru?

    • Perhaps I should use this line on my mum-in-law. As it is, she rarely comes to our “den of sin”. We might, you know, be catching. If I told her we’d moved in a sex guru, it might wither her interest altogether!

  3. Molly, I don’t even need to say it but I’ll say it right now — you are a GREAT person. I don’t know anybody else who makes Black Forest Cake like you do.

  4. Hahaha! love the assumptions people are making about you. Those are actually close to what my weekend consisted of, but it’s not a regular thing. šŸ˜‰

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