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The original was posted on /r/exmormon by /u/Free_Seaweed3993 on 2025-07-15 02:44:01+00:00.

I’ve been thinking a lot about my time in the church and felt like I wanted to share this, mainly because I didn’t realize how traumatic these experiences were until just recently.

Years ago, when I was preparing to go through the temple, I found myself in one of the most uncomfortable situations I’ve ever been in. It still makes my head spin thinking about it. Long story short, I met with my stake president (a random man) and felt the need to tell him about a “sexual sin” that I had committed. I had already repented and taken care of it with my bishop, but I felt the need to tell the stake president about it just in case. Why?? Because I was so scared of being unworthy to enter the temple. So I told him and he proceeded to say that he needed to know the exact date of when this “sexual sin” was committed. I told him I didn’t know an exact date because it had been months since it happened. He told me he still needed to know an exact date, so I sat there on the verge of a panic attack and scrolled the calendar on my phone trying to pick out the date that I thought it had happened. Finally I just gave him some random date and we finished up the meeting. I was completely mortified.

Fast forward to years later, I committed another “sexual sin” and my boyfriend at the time said that we needed to meet with the bishop. I was instantly in a panic, and I told him that I would absolutely not go. I was so traumatized by my experience with the stake president. My boyfriend finally convinced me to meet with the bishop, but I told him that I wouldn’t really participate in the conversation. So I went and my boyfriend did pretty much all of the talking. It was still such an embarrassment and shameful experience.

We were “good” for a period of time, but eventually my boyfriend and I slipped up again. He went to talk to the bishop again, but I refused to go. While he was gone I was crying in my room, so furious at myself for not being stronger. Why did I keep messing up? My anger, shame, and frustration overwhelmed me and I cut my wrist multiple times. I sat there, not believing what I just did to myself. How would I explain this to my boyfriend? I had never done something like this in my life.

To this day that is the only time I have self harmed. The church put a crushing weight of shame and self hatred on me and it dragged me down in so many ways throughout my life. I can’t believe I ever thought it was true or good, and I am SO grateful to be out now. What a blessing. I am not “bad,” I am not “unclean.” I am worthy in every way, and I wish I would have figured that out sooner.