Letter Eighteen: Handle the Past With Care

Reading time: 8 minutes.

Hi Friend,

This letter may be particularly heavy. But it’s long overdue.

One thing I’ve learned on my path is that those of us going through faith deconstruction often look back at our past lives with very mixed feelings.

This is natural. Studies suggest we humans spend nearly 50% of our time thinking about the past or the future. And I’m certain this percentage increases for those who have experienced significant changes or transformations.

Now that I’ve been going through it for some time, I think the emergence of these feelings is positive–a sign that you are working through deconstruction.

There are many emotions we can feel towards our past, but I wanted to touch on four that are particularly important: grief, loss, regret, and guilt.

Remember, I am not a mental health professional. I have no formal training. But I want to highlight these four for you to consider how they can be a guide to your future. So, let’s start with a definition of each in the context of your spiritual past:

  • Grief: a deep sorrow felt as one mourns the end of a once-cherished faith or spiritual identity.
  • Loss: The experience of no longer having key elements of faith—such as community, certainty, or purpose.
  • Regret: The wish that one had believed, acted, or questioned  differently in the past.
  • Guilt: The internalized sense of having done wrong, harming others. This can also be accompanied by the feeling of shame–that you are somehow bad or lesser because of your actions.

Volumes have been written about each of these emotions so I couldn’t possibly do them justice here in this letter.

But here’s my message to you: I believe each of these can be a positive step forward towards your reconstruction and healing.

Let’s take the first two, grief and loss, together.

Many people also experience grief over having lost what they once had–how they identified themselves, the beliefs they held. Your wounds from this process may still feel quite open and tender.

Accompanying that can be a real sense of loss. Loss of identity, community, friends, status, direction and purpose. This combination of grief and loss can bring a sense of forlornness–being lost, feeling alone.

And these feelings can be positive in that they give you a powerful sense of the direction you should go.

Are you familiar with the “red pill, blue pill” metaphor? In a popular science-fiction movie taking the red pill exposes us to the harsh reality of the world. In this instance, it can be metaphorically seeing the church history, policies, and practices in a different way, not the shiny varnished version. It was the start of our journey.

The blue pill represents returning to your former state of knowing before you took the red pill. It represents the blissful state you were once in.

Knowing what you know now, would you ever want to take the blue pill? Would you want to go back to blissfully not understanding?

I’ve wondered this myself at times. And I have never concluded that I’d want to go back.

But you are here now, feeling that grief and loss. It’s painful. But you don’t want to go back

So, ask yourself, what is that grief telling you? Where is the sense of loss leading you?

Do you miss loving Jesus wholeheartedly? There are millions of people doing that in all sorts of religious traditions.

Do you miss community? You can find that.

Do you miss having a spiritual identity? You can modify the one you have.

Have you lost a best friend or family over your beliefs? I am sorry if that is the case. There are others that are out there waiting to find and embrace you.

About the only thing you may not find again, truthfully, is that certainty you once felt. That “I know beyond a shadow of a doubt.”

But that wasn’t ever real to begin with.

Do you grieve over once having all the answers? Don’t you think that knowing you can discover new truths every single day is just a little more exciting than “knowing” it all?

Grief and loss have purpose. Use them well to guide you to identifying and filling the wounds you feel. Write them down and find where they lead you.

Let’s turn now to the third emotion: regret.

If you’re on a faith journey, you likely question whether everything you’ve done in the past still has merit. That might be an understatement.

Now that you’re where you are, you may look back and wish it were something different. Some people question why they served a mission, married who they did, or gave so much of their time to something they aren’t so certain about.

This is understandable, especially considering how much of our past path was constructed for us.

My advice: hold to things dearer than that. Not all of it, maybe not even individual events, milestones, and actions. And do it for this simple reason: it’s made you who you are today.

Handle your past with care.

Be willing to cherish mission experiences, scriptures you learned in seminary, times you felt the Spirit, the love that led you to make temple covenants, and the dedication you showed as an expression of devotion to God. Yes, even spiritual experiences–you can hold on to them.

You may even bring these things along on your journey if you find them helpful.

But don’t bring along regrets, would have, should have, or shame.

Indulge me in a very personal experience to give you a sense of what I am trying to say.

Deep into my faith reconstruction, I had the opportunity to visit the temple and perform work for a friend. At that point, I had deconstructed so much that I viewed the temple and priesthood differently. I went for the love of this friend and what it meant to her, unsure if I might ever even return to the temple in the future.

On my way there, I stopped on the road with a full view of the temple ahead through my front windshield. This was the very temple where I did baptisms as a youth and received my own endowment. It was a personal “favorite.”

As I sat there, I reflected on all the times I had visited this temple and many others around the world (I often made it a practice to visit temples in locations where I traveled).

I appreciated being able to serve as a proxy for my friend’s husband. I knew it was meaningful for her, and I hoped it was significant for her husband who had passed on many years before. I felt grateful for the concept of doing that work on behalf of others and the concept that God loves all His children.

I turned to thinking about the countless hours I’d spent in the temple, I realized I don’t regret a single one. I don’t regret serving a mission, the thousands of hours spent in callings, or anything else.

It’s made me who I am at this very moment. It’s made me into the clay that can be molded to something new.

For that reason, handle the past with care.

Moreover, regarding the fourth emotion, guilt, I’ve learned to set aside the regrettable parts that could fill me with guilt—acting for the wrong reasons, judging others, doing things from misguided motivations, or focusing on obedience rather than love for others.

I say good riddance to those aspects of me. That was someone else; not who I am now. I don’t look back on those parts with shame.

That former self plus new understanding has shaped who I am today.

It has led me to apologize, to re-evaluation, to change parts of me. It’s turned weaknesses into potential strengths.

Let guilt be your guide to what you should be, what you aspire to be, not what you lament from the past.

So, handle it all with care. And carefully craft what you need from the emotions you feel.

Would I do it all again with my current knowledge? It’s safe to say no. But these experiences make up who I am now, and what I have felt guides me towards the future.

And for that, I am grateful.

So, hold on to what’s good for you, and appreciate where it’s led you. Grieve, but don’t look back at your past with regret.

With warmth,

Your Friend

P.S. As I write this, I know that almost everyone has something that they have been harmed by in some way in the church. It ranges from the minor to the traumatic.

Religious trauma is a form of psychological and emotional distress experienced by individuals due to harmful religious experiences or beliefs. It stems from negative religious environments, teachings, or practices that lead to significant well-being and self-esteem issues. This can manifest in various ways, including anxiety, depression, scrupulosity, and more. Religious trauma is real.

If you have suffered abuse or been harmed in any way, first, I am sorry. Please don’t think I’m advocating that you simply discard the pain or suffering you’ve experienced. I sincerely hope you can find the right way to achieve peace, and I encourage you to seek professional counseling if appropriate and helpful.