I won't lie, I totally forgot I started a blog. Turns out I'm pretty bad at this, too... whoops. Although I'm sure the fact that my life got insanely busy and I'm only just now starting to have down time doesn't help. So, quick update: I am no longer in Springville. I'm back at Dixie State and I'm a Resident Assistant over the freshman dorms. It's going really well so far.
Anyway, if I were to go off of my last post, I'd talk about my Senior Year of high school and how that affected me as a person. But I realized something: I don't really care. My senior year sucked. I lost friends, got some pretty nasty harassment, and switched schools halfway through the school year. But I really don't care. It's in the past, and I'd really like to leave it there. It doesn't matter anymore.
I've since run into people from Foothill; people who I thought were my friends and then when I got sucked into drama, they left me alone. But here's the thing: I can't say I blame them. If one of my friends had someone's girlfriend going after them and they fought back, I'd flee the premises. I'd want nothing to do with it.
So that's that. But it does bring me on to the next thing I'd like to talk about, mainly so anyone who is in my position might stumble onto this blog and learn something. I've mentioned it slightly to some people, but no one really knows the whole story, besides people in my family. It's a sensitive subject and I'm finally ready to talk about it. So here it goes:
This time one year ago, I started filling out paperwork so I could serve an LDS (or Mormon) mission. It took 7 weeks to get my call due to the government shut-down, but it finally arrived on Halloween. I had been called to serve in the Alpine German-Speaking Mission, which covered four countries: Germany, Switzerland, Austria, and Lichtenstein. I was to leave for the England Missionary Training Center in late March. I was ecstatic. I took German in high school and have always wanted to travel there. I had gotten exactly what I wanted and more, and life looked really promising.
About a month later, I went through the Las Vegas LDS Temple. It was an amazing experience and an important preparation for my mission. Throughout the whole session, however, was a voice nagging at the back of my head, telling me something was very very wrong. That same voice was also telling me that everything was going to be okay. My next few weeks were filled with an internal argument until I had someone tell me what I needed to do, and I did it. Then my life fell apart.
That sounds really dramatic, but that's what happened. I had been dating someone and we hadn't exactly been following the proper dating guidelines for LDS youth. We were dating exclusively. We had broken up for a short period of time since we were both preparing for a mission, but when we got back together, my parents didn't know. That was mistake number one. Lying to my parents led to more and more lies and so much deceit I'm surprised I lasted several months without having a complete mental breakdown and confessing everything. They knew I was hanging out with him, but they thought we were with other people as well. Sometimes we were, but most of the time we were alone. I was so head over heels in love that I didn't realize I was destroying my life and the path that had been set up so prettily with flowers and cobblestone pavement, birds singing and happiness at every turn was very quickly being blocked off from my access. We eventually crossed a critical line, and we both knew something had to change. We had both gone through the temple and had made sacred covenants with our Heavenly Father, which we had broken. Neither of us were proud of what happened. Neither of us knew what to do. We were both scared and kept quiet, but the silence did not last long.
One night in mid-December, he came over to my house to watch a movie. Afterwards he asked if he could talk to me privately outside. He was honest and upfront in telling me that he had spoken to his church leader and that I needed to do the same. He had also talked with his parents and he encouraged me to do so as well. We decided we needed to break up. The next day I made an appointment with my bishop and told my parents that I had broken their trust. It was truly heartbreaking, and I'm tearing up just writing this.
That's when things both fell apart and fell into place at the same time. My internal struggle had been addressed and was beginning to be resolved, but my mission was no longer an option. I had broken the rules and was no longer worthy. The same day I learned that I wouldn't be allowed to serve until I went a year with no setbacks, I made the decision to get away from the situation and apply to Dixie State-- a place far enough away that I was independent and free of the temptation at home, but close enough where I could go home for a weekend if I needed to. My heart was broken but my spirit refused to sink. I had been humbled more than I thought possible. I was determined to come back from my mistake.
And I did. The process was long and painful, but I did it. I am once again worthy to enter the temple-- the House of the Lord-- and have been going again since early July. I am still a little unsure if I will go out on a mission or not, but the choice is mine to make. If I decide to go, I, along with my bishop and stake president, will need to write a letter to the First Presidency of the church, and, if they find me worthy to go, they will reinstate my call and I will serve for the expected 18 months. Right now, I'm about 75% positive that serving a mission is what I want to do. As the semester draws closer to an end, I will have to make my decision, but for now, I still have time.
I really want to go deeper into the repentance process I went through, but I think that will have to wait for another post. This one is already much too long. Also, since I've come to Dixie, certain events have come to pass that I've come to know that I made the right decision. I have been blessed for repenting in that I have been able to serve in my student ward, serve my family, and serve my friends. The decision to not let my situation rule me and come to Dixie might just be the best decision I've ever made. But that, again, is a story for another post.
If you've made it this far, I'd like to thank you. This was difficult to write. I'm really trying to be more open about it, and I really think this helps.
If you need to take anything from this, let it be the knowledge that it's okay to make mistakes. It's okay to mess up. It's okay to make a wreck out of your life and break your heart into a million little pieces and end up crying alone on your bedroom floor. As long as you make an honest effort to put your life together again once you have the strength or rely on others if you don't, it is okay. There is nothing you can't come back from with the help of church leaders and the Atonement of Jesus Christ.
And even if you're not religious and think that my last bit was complete rubbish-- it's still okay to mess up. It happens. And if it hasn't happened to you yet, it will. Sometimes it'll be out of your control, sometimes it'll be your own foolish fault. But it's okay. It's important to be able to move on from things like that, or else it'll haunt you for life.
It's okay.
Thanks for reading :)
