For me it’s like a betrayal of my DNA. I feel lied to by my ancestors and the people who told me they were my conduit to God. Sure, in the here and now, it’s obvious God needs no intermediary, but that wasn’t always clear to me.

This past weekend my love and I were watching a Netflix Original series wherein the Mountain Meadows Massacre plays a large influencing factor. So on a beautiful Sunday morning at the coast, I spent some time “studying church history,” as a good Mormon girl does.

Quotation marks necessary as I taught early morning seminary one year and THAT looked exactly NOTHING like the reading I did this spring morning.

You see, the Mountain Meadows Massacre embodies the betrayal I feel from the church.

It includes greed, cheating, lies and, oh yeah, murder and kidnapping. These things, they look, sound and feel NOTHING like what I was taught to believe.

Okay, let’s get past the part where we all have skeletons in our closets. Yes! Yes, we do. But what I was taught is that we DO NOT UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES LIE ABOUT THEM. We. Do. Not. Also, at least publicly, mass murder and kidnapping are non-starters.

Mormons are (taught to be) honest. We help our neighbors. We love selflessly. ESPECIALLY women. Oh yes. That’s our job.

Unless of course you are Brigham Young and you want to take more control of your growing empire. You take more wives, you tell your followers to kill their neighbors and when that gets taken to the extreme… like all of us, when we accidentally commit mass murder… this is when you manipulate, excommunicate and lie to save your ass, your kingdom (I mean God’s Kingdom here, obvi), and your wealth.

So this. This is what it looks like to see the men who influenced your life, long after their death. This is what it looks like to see that I am not the one with the problem here. It’s what it looks like to see humans where once stood demi-gods.

Dear Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. It’s over between us. We had a few laughs (but never loud laughter), a lot of time together (but not great times), but now we’re through. And in case you’re wondering, or any of your remaining devotees imagine it otherwise, I am absolutely clear, it’s not me. It’s you, Mormonism. It was always you.

I’ve never been good at goodbyes, so, that’ll do, pig.