Paralyzed by Fear

I fear not what man can do; for perfect love casteth out all fear.
Moroni 8:16

In a rather tearful conversation with my father recently, he said something that struck through my heart and lodged there. After quoting the above scripture, he said, "fear also casts out love."

That is when it struck me. I have been living in fear for far too long. Fear has become my shroud, my protection against the world. Even my faith is motivated by fear, fear that all my efforts will not be enough to utilize the Atonement and return me Home. I am afraid people in my life will be turned against me by a good lie and a happy mask. I am afraid that I am unmodifiable, that I am like clay with too many inclusions, that the Lord will someday give up in disgust and move on to work with purer material. I am afraid that no matter what I do, my daughters will grow to hate me and I'll be alone. I'm afraid that I'm not learning fast enough, that I'll never be good enough.

All these fears mean that I'm aimed to fail in my quest for charity before I even begin. No wonder I'm floundering, feeling lost. No wonder I'm failing to let that pure love of Christ root in my heart. The fear-crows are plucking out the seeds as soon as they sprout.

The problem is that I have no idea how to get rid of fear. Theoretically, perfect love will cast it out for me. But that leaves me in somewhat of a quandary.

Identifying Abuse

The first and hardest step for me in healing from abuse has been to understand and admit that I was in an abusive relationship. If you are in an abusive relationship, or have a loved one who you wish to help, the first thing you must realize is that it is very difficult for a victim to realize the truth. If a victim admits they have been abused, they must accept that they have been used by the person they have loved the best, spent the most time and energy on. That is no easy thing. (For ease of discussion, I am going to use "he" for the abuser and "she" for the victim for now. In a future post, I will discuss tendencies between genders in abuse.)

There are many excuses a victim makes for an abuser. Two of the most common are 1) but he never hit me*, and 2) everyone does that, so it's not really abuse. Both excuses downplay the impact of the abuse. The first operates under the very common and unfortunate attitude that abuse is physical violence. In actuality, physical violence is only the more easily demonstrated portion of abuse. Look at it this way. If a husband tripped and fell against his wife, breaking her arm, it would be merely an accident. If, however, a husband wanted a wife to make him dinner and pushes her against a wall, breaking her arm, it would be abuse. The difference is not the injury. The difference is the emotional environment around the injury. The injury itself is incidental.

The second excuse I have heard (everyone does that) is used when a victim has been convinced that the behavior is normal. Sometimes it is because the victim was abused as a child. Rarely it is because the victim herself is an abuser. Often, it is because the victim does not want to be seen as different from everyone around her. Some abusers use the fear of being unloved to isolate their victims by convincing them that they deserve the abuse or that it is normal.

In an LDS framework, abuse has a particular outlet. The LDS Church is structured under the order of the Priesthood. When the priesthood is misunderstood as a tool of authority, it becomes the method of abuse. The scriptures call this "unrighteous dominion". Spouses are taught to honor each other, to look first within themselves to make changes in the marriage, and that marriage is a sacred and holy covenant which should not be broken. All of these things are true and good most of the time. However, without a complete understanding of the Priesthood and the covenant of marriage, these attitudes can utterly trap a victim.

To use an analogy which was used on me, imagine you are at a baseball game, and a man trips and spills beer all over you. You tell him not to worry, that it was an accident, and you forgive him. Nine people out of ten will look at you and think "Oh, what a nice person." The last will see potential prey. There are two parts to an abusive relationship: the abuser and the victim.

When I was presented with that, I thought to myself "but I want to be a nice person! I don't want to turn my back on Christian values of kindness and forgiveness, simply because there are those out there who will take advantage of me." Victims tend to see the world with a paradigm of mutuality. They want relationships to be mutually beneficial. Abusers tend to see the world with a paradigm of control. They want to be in control of their environment as much as possible, and are willing to go to lengths they would otherwise be horrified by to obtain it. A victim does not need to abandon divine compassion. It needs to be tempered, however, with divine judgment. We spend so much time avoiding judging others, we sometimes forget to judge situations. Relationships need to be examined with guidance from the Holy Spirit to make certain that they are divinely balanced. If the bad in a relationship cannot be pruned away to leave room for the good, sometimes the entire relationship must be "hewn down", however painful the process is. Otherwise, it will take over the entire life of the vineyard. Once a victim has done her best (and that can only be determined by the victim and the Lord), and the abusive relationship is destroying the rest of her life, it is time for the final harvest.

One last thing I would like to mention. Couples counseling is strongly not recommended for couples in abusive relationships. Couples counseling only sets a new playground for abuse. Unless a counselor is trained and experienced with abuse, the abuse can go on during counseling. The best way for a third party to measure abuse is not in the actions of the abuser, but in the reactions of the victim. When a person becomes familiar with the patterns of abuse and otherwise seemingly irrational reactions of a victim, it is easy to spot the difference between true abuse and "mere" marital disharmony.

For more information, please read this. It is a wonderfully balanced discussion on abuse in an LDS framework.

*If you have a loved one in an emotionally abusive relationship, I strongly recommend "But He Never Hit Me" by Dr. Jill Murray. I believe that book literally and figuratively saved my life.

Abuse Without a Bruise

I have been unable to write about this topic for some time, but I feel in my heart that there is something I can add to all that has been said about abuse. I will probably be doing several posts on this topic, as I have learned far more than I ever cared to know about abuse and how our society, culture, and government deal (and not deal) with it.

Although there are pages and pages of information about abuse, and many organizations to help women escape from abuse, I feel there is a huge gap between the reality of abuse and popular understanding of it. Much of that gap can be filled by understanding the mechanics of what abuse really is and in using gospel principles to heal.

Putting hands on a person, which tends to be the only recognized sign of abuse, is only the pinnacle of the problem. Like the worn-out analogy of an iceberg, the reality of abuse, the substance of it, lies far below what can be seen and measured.

There is a problem with this, however. A government or organization cannot deal with something unmeasurable. The government can only punish for what it can see, it cannot protect. It cannot stop abuse in time to save the hearts and souls of the victims. By the time bruises can be seen, the pattern of abuse has progressed too far. Lives are often irrevocably damaged, and people are left to live with some element of fear in their hearts for the rest of their days. No, the government cannot see, understand, or stop abuse.

There is only one person who can free a victim of abuse, and that is the victim.

Unfortunately, there is little information about all that lies below the surface until a person lives it. If you are like I was, you believe that abuse is easy to define and then to stop. If a person hits you, that is abuse, and you can get out.

Unfortunately, all the hard work of abuse has already been done by the time a finger is laid on the victim. An abuser spends a great deal of time and energy emotionally and mentally destabilizing a victim. Much like a torturer, the abuser carefully manipulates a victim into a state of mind where the victim believes their pain is their own fault. They come to believe that if only they were (good, smart, strong, beautiful, giving, obedient, hard-working) enough, they wouldn't hurt any more. An abuser creates a world for the victim where the victim continually searches for something—anything—to change in themselves to make it better. As soon as a victim finds a way to comply with the demands of the abuser, the abuser changes the rules and the victim is left standing on shifting sands, with nothing they can do to make things better, mired in a downward spiral of self-recrimination, desperately searching for the magic change that will never exist. Then, when the physical blows come, they are left with no strength of mind to resist, and they are at the mercy of the abuser.

Yes, the substance of abuse happens long before the first wound is inflicted. Otherwise, no one would tolerate being abused.

The only way to stop abuse cold is to educate people. Neighbors and friends who recognize signs of isolation will not allow a victim to be isolated. Victims who recognize the struggle for control that abuse really is will be able to identify the problem where it really lies: within the abuser.

I intend to educate as well as I am able, within the small framework I have been given, and in the light of gospel principles. If I can help one person recognize that they are in an abusive relationship before they actually get hurt, it will be worth it.

(Do) I Belong to the Church of Jesus Christ . . . (?)

There is a feeling of belonging that I, growing up as a military dependent to a decidedly non-pro-military social worker, have only rarely felt. In fact, I think it safe to say that the only time I have ever felt that I belonged somewhere was before I was married when I attended the temple. One place I decidedly do not feel a part of a group is in church on Sunday. Although my current situation exacerbates this feeling, it is nothing new.

Once, when I went to attend Conference just after the Conference Center was built, I did not know that tickets were necessary to attend. I found myself standing awkwardly with a group of strangers on the sidelines, watching the-Ones-with-Tickets file into the doors. As I was shunted up through a side door and to the nosebleeds, I got a taste of what it must have felt like to be a Jew in the early stages of Nazi Germany, a segregated person after the Civil War, one of the Untouchables in Indian society, or one of the ignorant converts in a very closely knit religious society. At the time, I had not felt more obviously different from the rest of Church membership than I did that day. When I hear various interest groups—LDS feminists, intellectuals, non-Utah Mormons, gay/lesbian members, recent converts—talk about wanting to feel a part of the Church, my heart resonates with their desires even though I really belong to none of these sub-groups.

I have thought long and hard on feelings of estrangement throughout my life in the Church. It occurs to me that almost everyone feels outside of the group at one time or another. Whether we are different because of age, background, personality, beliefs, skin color, height, or any other factor, we still feel the sharp, cold sting of being other than those around us. Three things have helped me soften that sting.

First, to realize that my feelings belong to me alone. No one can make me feel anything, nor can anyone change how I feel without my cooperation.

Second, that my differences give me the ability to serve in the Church in ways that others may not be able to serve. That might not be appreciated by others, but it is necessary all the same.

Most importantly, that no matter the circumstance that sets me apart from other members of the Church, there is one unifying factor that makes my differences meaningless; my faith in Christ and His prophets. I believe on Christ and rely on Him. I believe that He is working through the leadership of the Church to bring about His great purposes.

It doesn't matter if other members of the Church see me as strange, or hold me in contempt because I don't understand workings of the Church or the gospel of Christ the way they understand it. I know that my Father and my Savior have bonded me to Them through the Spirit. In the end, I am answerable only to Them. That is why I can happily declare that I belong to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I know who I am. I know God's plan, and I'll follow Him in faith.

Why Pornography is Wrong (It's Not Really About Sex)

I have recently gone through a drastic paradigm shift that has led me to understand several gospel principles in a new way. One of these is pornography.

There is a great deal of discussion about pornography in the LDS blog world. At the risk of oversimplification, essentially the discussions involve three basic views. First, that pornography is evil because it exploits women and plays upon natural man drives. Second, that pornography in moderation is not that bad if it helps husbands and wives have a more fulfilling sex life. Third, that there is really nothing wrong with pornography because the women who are depicted choose their careers, and would do it whether or not any particular person used it.

But there is another, more insidious aspect to pornography that I believe may greatly damage the lives of anyone it touches in ways that ripple out to destroy wives, children and friends.

While I have not ever been involved in pornography, there is a certain level of it which cannot be entirely avoided in today's society, so I am minimally familiar with the concept. Generally speaking, pornography involves showing people in various states of undress, or depicting a sexual encounter through stories, but nakedness and sex are not what defines pornography. In fact, pornography can consist of people entirely modestly dressed, and often does. Sometimes an actual sexual encounter does not even need to be depicted or described. Pornography is not nakedness, it is the depiction of forbidden or unattainable sexual desires in a way that allows the viewer or reader to direct the fulfillment of those desires.

When a person views a pornographic picture or reads a pornographic story, they are in some ways putting themselves into the scene. They are able to fantasize about doing something that they cannot do in real life. Essentially all forms of pornography involve having someone else do what you want them to do.

In short, pornography is a way of finding sexual gratification that circumvents the agency of another person. It is about control, not about sex.

In normal, healthy, husband-and-wife sex, two people have to work together to find mutual pleasure and joy in physical expression. That's why it is such hard work, and why so many people struggle with it. It is not that there is anything wrong with the individuals, it is that divinely-sanctioned sex is not meant to be easy. It is not meant to be about fulfilling one's own needs, it is meant to be about seeking ways to meet a spouse's needs. When two people attempt this, there are bound to be missteps along the way. However, when this is done, husband and wife form strong bonds of love as they seek their spouse's needs before their own (very powerful) ones. Sex should be a form of charity held sacred to be performed only between husband and wife, so there can be a bond between them that no others share.

When a person seeks physical fulfillment in ways that ignore the agency of another person, they objectify and thus can manipulate a person (even if it is only in their own fantasy, and even if it is on a strictly limited basis). That person mocks one of the most important laws of God: the law of agency. They then damage their ability to find pleasure in giving, grinding grooves of habit that make it impossible for them to associate sex with selflessness.

Once a person ties their sexual pleasure to control and manipulation, other aspects of the marital relationship assume the taint of a need to control. Then that person can easily begin to see all relationships as relationships of control. When a relationship is about control, it is no longer of God.

If you look at scripture, about Satanic interaction with mankind as compared to divine interaction, you will see that relationships with God never, never violate the principle of agency: of choice and accountability. Satan almost always tempts in one of three ways: by convincing us there is no choice, by convincing us there is no consequence, or by telling us that we do not have to be accountable for what we choose, that it somehow isn't our fault.

Is pornography wrong because it exploits women? Undoubtedly. But it also exploits the viewer or reader, teaching them that joy comes only from control. In the end, that is far more damaging.

The Temple and Squeaky Shoes

I went to the temple again for the first time in awhile. It's funny to think that, at one point, I went every week, craving the peace and tranquility, the feeling of home. Now attendance is painful. I don't really feel a part of anything there any more, and what I do feel causes me to cry, which I hate doing. But I went because I knew I needed to, and because I had promised my mother I would.

I walked through the doors feeling like I did not belong. As I went through the foyer, I felt all eyes on me. My shoes, the only black dress shoes I own, squeak loudly when I walk, a fact that wasn't nearly so noticeable when I was walking outside. I wondered if they saw me as the interloper I felt, with my squeaky shoes announcing my presence with every step. I never liked those shoes particularly, but for a moment they became the symbol of all that has gone wrong in my life, of all that has labeled me a failure, and I hated them. I kept walking anyways.

Because scheduling is pretty tight, and because I didn't know if I could endure an endowment session just then, I participated in initiatory. I did fairly well at first, but by the second name I could no longer help myself, and tears rolled down my cheeks. One kind ordinance worker also teared up. I'm sure she thought I was moved by the Spirit, but I wasn't. I was moved by self-pity. I hated myself for that, too, wishing and praying that my feelings were different than they were.

Midway through the third name, a new worker came in. She had never done this particular ordinance, and she stumbled over nearly every phrase. I smiled at her, and nodded reassuringly, glad to have something to think about besides my own inadequacies. Her trainer said, "She is just learning." I crumbled as the Spirit electrified that message in my heart. I realized that I am just learning, too. I'm new to my particular position in life, and I am just learning how to do it, making mistakes, feeling inadequate.

As I walked out of the temple in my squeaky shoes, I realized that they didn't matter. Perhaps others were looking at me, wondering why I wore such noisy shoes, wondering if I even belonged in the temple at all. Maybe I don't really belong there. In the Atonement of Christ, it doesn't matter. I am just learning.

Apology

I am sorry for not writing more often. I would try to excuse myself by claiming to have a great deal on my plate right now, but the truth is that it's not really time (though short) keeping me from writing, any more than it is my new daughter keeping me on the bench in Fast Sunday's testimony meeting.

Even now, I begin to write and find myself stalling. I don't know any more what I ought to write, what I should and should not do or say or think. I knew I could never post the things I have just written, so I deleted them. But I'm posting this much because I know that many amazing people read my posts here, and I want to let them . . . to let you know that I'm okay. I'm in a rough spot, confused and lonely, but I'll get through it.

Keep praying for me, please. I'll keep praying for all of you, that I can think of something worthwhile to share.