Thrashbrowns Loses his Religion: Pt. 6

 

Meat Market Blues

It's hard to remember a time in my church-going life when lessons on the importance of LDS temple marriage weren't accompanied by lessons about the importance of picking a spouse that is temple-worthy. Lists of  qualities of an ideal spouse always found their way into these discussions. A worthy spouse is someone who loves the Lord, consistently studies scriptures, attends their meetings, fulfills their callings and on and on and on.

Believing these words were always coming from teachers and leaders who were inspired by God and delivering the word of the Lord to me, I took these qualities deep into my heart and when I finally decided it was time for me to start dating (after Revenge of the Sith came out, cuz, by damn, NO WOMAN was gonna keep me away from celebrating the release of that movie with camping out and collecting cool shit and all the other nerdy minutia that goes along with those kinds of movie releases), I used those qualities to form the basis of what I was looking for in a woman.

I tried dating Relief Society Presidents, activities directors and the like, cuz if anyone was gonna be temple-worthy, I figured it would be a woman who holds a high-ranking calling in the ward. This approach didn't work for me. It REALLY didn't fucking work for me. I struggled to find anyone who reciprocated my interest in them. On the plus side, the first novel I ever wrote was inspired by the friendship I developed with one woman from my branch that I wanted to get with. On the downside, being rejected by a different woman in the branch put me in the hospital with suicidal depression.

Years later, I was participating in the totally fantastic November writing ritual known as National Novel Writing Month, or NaNoWriMo. Our group held an all-night writing party at my friend Sparkles' home. Sparkles, myself and two other people stayed up well into the night joking and having a fucking riotous good time.

That morning, I dragged my exhausted, got-all-of-two-hours-of-sleep ass to my car for the drive home. As I motored along Highway 20, a realization hit me like a bolt of lightning. I should be trying to date girls like Sparkles. Girls who like me for me and aren't trying to mold me into something I have no interest in being. Girls that laugh at my jokes without giving me looks that bleed "You're going to be damned for all eternity" all over the floor. My whole life, I was trying to date women who were absolutely wrong for me.

Tears rapidly followed that revelation, so intense that I had to pull over so as not to cause a car wreck. 

*****

Mormon singles wards are designed to bring groups of single LDS church members together to worship and socialize, but they've gained a less-flattering reputation. I've heard singles ward referred to many, many times as "meat markets." The hearsay whispers that singles wards are places where people who really want to get married come to show off for potential mates. They make themselves as physically attractive as possible and show off the Gospel knowledge as often as possible, all in an effort to fulfill the Lord's commanment to multiply and replenish the Earth.

I survived all that with my singleness intact. I survived the meat market. And yet, it was more than a meat market to me. The Sugar City singles branch I attended is the place where I grew more spiritually and personally than in any other environment. My leaders there weren't pushing marriage or dating on me and it was the only church group I ever belonged to where I felt comfortable being anything close to my real self. That branch, and the people in it, are quite literally the only thing I miss about my time as an active church member.

All that said, the first place I really ever felt pressure to date or get married was in the singles branch. The pressure came from folks from my home ward asking who I was dating and interrogating me when I answered "no one." It came from my watching friends find their spouses and wondering why I couldn't find anyone or what was wrong with me. Most of all, the pressure came from inside me, remembering all that I'd learned up to that point about the importance of temple marriage and fatherhood and how, no matter what else I did in this world, it would be meaningless if I didn't find a wife.

After all, no success can make up for failure in the home and if you can't even find a wife to build a home with, you've got to be the most spectacular of failures.

*****

I could complain about a lot of things with regard to Mormon dating. I could bitch about having to listen to women I asked out and got rejected by whine about how nobody asks them out. I could talk about the kinds of mates young Mormons feel they are entitled to, you know, how LDS guys are looking for "Playboy Bunnies with testimonies" and shit like that. I could talk about how there are entirely too many people involved in a couple's dating process, how when a couple first gets together, their parents, their ecclesiastical leaders, their friends and way too many other people are immediately involved. I could whine about how faking who you are on the outside can land you a significant other but being honest about yourself gets you tossed onto the reject pile. 

But after years of turning this over in my mind, I've arrived at the reason dating played such a big part in my leaving the church. That reason is shame.

*****

I think it would do church officials a mountain of good to do some kind of study into the role that shame plays in members going inactive. I'm not just talking shame for doing something the inactive member knows they shouldn't be doing. I'm also talking about the shame that comes from trying your best and your best not being enough. I'm talking about the shame that comes from not fulfilling what is commanded of you.

When you boil it all down, all the stupid, petty bullshit that LDS girls have done to me, the way I've been treated for not being "ideal," all that shit really doesn't matter. What matters is the shame I felt because I couldn't find anyone. I felt so worthless. My friends had all managed to find themselves wives and they were some goofy-ass motherfuckers. Still are, for the most part. But me? I was lucky to land a date who bothered to show up when I went to pick her up. 

The twist of the knife was going to church and having to listen to people tell you how important marriage is and how you can't reach your full potential without it. I tried to right my ship, but the harder I tried, the more awkward and offputting I became. The more awkward and offputting I became, the less worth I felt I had as a person. Take someone with depression and anxiety and toss in a heaping helping of shame and what you have is a person who is so terrified of not living up to the expectations of other people and so ashamed of his/her past failures that they can't see anything good within themselves. After all, if they're so fucking great, why can't they find anyone who will reciprocate feelings of love? If they're so fucking great, why are they always alone?

It's the shame, man. I'm telling you. It crushes you to the point where the only way to escape the feelings of valuelessness is to hide from them. It crushes you until you reach the conclusion that the only answer is to stop going to church.

*****

I was pretty sure that getting away from the church and looking for women I am actually interested in instead of what fits a list of character attributes dictated to me by some dude speaking at a pulpit would up my success rate at least a little. It hasn't, but I've also been a lot less scared to put my feelings out there now that I'm no longer petrified that I don't fit the right temple worthiness criteria. 

I've also been able to clear my mind and see the experiences I had dating in the church a lot more clearly. I now accept that my view of who might be right for me was extremely myopic and that I should have trusted my own instincts a lot more than I trusted the advice of my leaders and teachers. After all, those jokers never knew me. Not really. It's not really their fault I listened to them and believed them over what I was actually attracted to. I mean, I didn't daydream about churchy girls back in high school. I daydreamed about Lita Ford and Doro Pesch and hot rocker chicks who could play killer guitar riffs and really filled out a pair of leather pants. Did I actually believe that I'd get into a relationship with Molly Mormon and I'd be able to convince her to cosplay Roxy Petrucci from Vixen for me? Really? Was I really that high?

Years of thought have brought another possibility to light. What if I DON'T want to get married? What if I never did? What if my desire to pair bond with a female was the result of being told for decades that that's what I want? Is that really the truth? The loneliness I feel at nights says that's not totally accurate, but it's worth thinking about. Maybe the only way this shame I carry with me because I can't find someone to love ever goes away is to admit that I bought into a one-life-fits-all myth peddled by church mouthpieces. 

I don't know for sure, but I do know that if I ever decide to give dating another go, I'm disregarding everything I was taught in my youth and listening to my heart and my gut. That may be the only way to end the heartache.