Anger

I’m angry I waited until I was 36 to get a spine and find my voice.

I’m angry that I listened, believed, and never questioned even when I was unhappy.

I’m angry that I felt pressured to marry so young.

I’m angry that I was never allowed the opportunity to be a free thinker and to make decisions that went against my family’s beliefs.

I’m angry that I’ve given so much of our money to the church. We could have our house paid off by now.

I’m angry that women are expected to submit to the will of their husband, even when they are living unrighteous lives.

I’m angry that I believed that child bearing was more important than an education that would make me financially independent.

I’m angry that I never had proper treatments for depression, instead believing that I could pray for healing.

I’m angry that I sustained and supported unrighteous, dominating men in positions of authority over me.

I’m angry that I have never really enjoyed intimate moments with my spouse, brainwashed to believe I was committing sexual sins.

I’m angry that I never enjoyed my body more in my 20s, always hiding it with religious garments.

I’m angry that I always thought something was wrong with me when I would hear others talk of answers to prayers or revelations.

I’m angry that I became “one of them”, judging and criticizing others who couldn’t conform.

I’m angry that I lived most of my life out of obligation and fear.

I’m angry that I never felt like a good person even though I was, even by mormon standards.

I'm angry I allowed guilt to consume me all these years.