The Millennial Mormon Project

John Steinbeck wrote, “We are lonesome animals. We spend all our life trying to be less lonesome. One of our ancient methods is to tell a story begging the listener to say —and to feel—'Yes, that’s the way it is, or at least that’s the way I feel it. You’re not as alone as you thought.'”

The Millennial Mormon Project aims to promote understanding, community, and empathy. It hopes to show that there are fewer Mormon norms than we like to imagine. It is not easy to feel that you are the only one living your individual life, but I believe there is great power in knowing someone else has gone through or is experiencing similar emotions, obstacles, and triumphs. Millennials (those born approximately between 1980 and 2000) have often intimately felt the impacts of recent social, technological, religious, and political change. The world has become both a more connected and more isolating place for many of us. This project aspires to fight isolation and nourish connection; I imagine it as a mix between "Humans of New York" and "Meet the Mormons," but I'm also inclined to let the narratives speak for themselves, so come what may. 

Every story will look different because every person is different. 

There is something redemptive in considering a story that is completely different from your own. As we take time to listen to or read someone’s experiences and thoughts, we expand our perspectives and hopefully increase our compassion. The plan is to post one story each Sunday for the coming months---until I run out of stories. Names and some of the places in these stories  have been changed (unless otherwise noted) to preserve the privacy of sensitive information, but I hope that through this, you will be able to see a part of yourself, your family members, and your friends in each of these narratives.

I was born in 1992. I was raised in a typical Mormon household in Colorado and as a teenager, I had a vague set of expectations for what life in my 20s would look like. I thought dating would be easy, that I'd be married to a "perfect" Mormon guy (whatever that meant) by age 22, that I'd have three kids before 30. There would be no heartbreak with any of that because life would only get easier after age sixteen (insert audience laughter). I didn't really want to serve a mission and assumed that was "men's work" anyways (a statement I shudder at today). I wanted to be a high school history teacher and move back to Colorado as soon as possible. I thought there was black and white and generally believed more in God's judgment than in His mercy. 

More than halfway through my 20s now, nothing quite looks like I thought it would. But I love the unexpected experiences and mindset changes I’ve undergone as I’ve entered into adulthood. 

To begin with, I served a mission in Germany. It was great and terrible, as most missions are. I hated starting conversations with strangers about how they felt about God. I hated the subconscious guilt that came when I didn’t talk to strangers about how they felt about God. I didn't like rules, but I followed them. I loved meeting people from all over the world, not just Germans but Ghanians, Nigerians, Cameroonians, Serbians, Iranians, Egyptians, Colombians and learning about new cultures.  I loved walking down cobblestone roads with my companions and I loved my companions. I loved my morning runs and hours of studying and pondering. I loved the opportunity to try to focus solely on how to help other people have happier lives and find a connection with God. 

After my mission, I had five semesters left of studying history and German at BYU. I graduated in 2016 and was incredibly grateful for the experiences I'd had as a mentor, researcher, and student instructor as well as for travel opportunities around Europe. Currently, I am working on a PhD in Germanic Studies at Indiana University. Never had I planned on living in the Midwest, but it's been grand.

Over the past half decade, I've built valuable relationships with people from many different backgrounds and they have made my world bright and interesting. I have thought compassionately and critically about feminism, sexuality, parenthood, singlehood, education, immigration, racism, fertility, family ties, work, finances, revelation, mercy, dreams, and the boxes we try to put others and ourselves in, especially in a Mormon context. I have been relieved to find others with whom I can discuss these things. Having a community makes life's complicated tensions less lonely.

My narrative does not look like anyone else’s. At times, I’ve felt some sort of sadness and guilt that my life doesn’t look like the standard Mormon narrative that I had heard about and seen growing up in my circles of LDS friends, associates, leaders, and teachers. 

But more often than not, I’m glad my life deviates from what I considered to be the norm.

Because my life is mine.

There is a need among members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints to realize we are not alone in our experiences, whatever they are. Being Mormon shapes us, whether we go to church services and actively participate in our congregations or not. I love being Mormon and highly value my faith. It helps me feel close to God, close to His children, and challenges me to find better ways to love, serve, and think. With that, I believe there needs to be room for a wider Mormon narrative.

Because we are the Mormon narrative.

There is more than one direction for life to go. Though these factors may contribute to a happy life, success is not defined by marriage, education, children, financial stability, missions served, worldly possessions, prestige, travel, popularity, or the ability to eat cake for breakfast and not gain weight.

Each individual’s path to “success” is different.

Success might include any of the above things.

Or it might not.

Our charge is not to judge another’s life because they seem to be the stereotypical Mormon or because they clearly are not. Ours is to connect with and love humankind. To listen to their stories. To feel--yes, that is the way it is. Or to feel--yes, that is the way it can be. To build a sense of community with our brothers and sisters who are all unique children of God. There is no better (or scarier) way to build connection than through vulnerability, because through our own openness as well as that of others, we learn that we are part of a greater whole. 

There is no mold for a Millennial Morm and I rejoice in the diversity of our paths. Here are the stories of the Millennial Mormons: Where Myth and Reality Meet. 

Every life is worth celebrating.