Happy

Today was supposed to be my graduation from BYU, but of course that's not happening. I was feeling pretty depressed about that this morning, together with Jan being gone and Lucy breaking up with me, so I did what I usually do when I'm feeling down: I went for a jog. I suppose that's one benefit of all those years of ex-mutant therapy I went through--I've developed some good coping strategies for when life feels overwhelming.

It was a beautiful morning. The sun was shining, just a little bit of wind to keep things cool, and Provo was full of happy people either graduating or taking off for summer vacation. I had a hard time getting going at first. Each step felt like I was lifting a ton, which is no surprise with all the emotional baggage I was carrying. I had to force myself to lift my foot off the ground each time. As minutes passed and I pushed myself forward, my steps grew lighter. It became easier and easier to push off the ground. My stride grew longer and longer. Eventually, I realized I wasn't even touching the ground anymore. My first impulse was to force myself back down, but I smiled as it dawned on me that I no longer have any reason to hold back. I waved goodbye to the sidewalk, looked up at the beautiful blue sky, and flew toward it.

Five months ago, it took all the courage I had to admit that I'm a mutant. Since then, I've been gathering up the courage to actually be a mutant. To be me. At first I insisted on calling myself Mormon X because the Mormon part of me was more important than the X, the mutant. Over time, I realized the Mormon part was obscuring who I really am, and gradually the X became more important. Perhaps, for a time, I was X-Mormon. That very quickly became ex-Mormon. But you know what? I don't really want to be defined by "Mormon" anymore. And honestly, "X" doesn't cover it either. I used to be Mormon, and that will probably always be part of who I am. I am a mutant, and that's also part of who I am. But that's not all of it. I'm Ben. I'm a guy who, among other things, can fly. I'm a college student and a writer. I'm a son, a brother, an ex-boyfriend, someone's future boyfriend, someone's future husband, someone's future father. There are facets of who I am that I haven't even begun to imagine.

As I've started this process of self-discovery, it's been helpful to sort it all out here on this blog. It's been great to meet others like me and see the different paths they've taken, to get a glimpse at the infinite number of possibilities available to me. But I'm at a point now where, for a while at least, I need to do this on my own. Maybe I'll blog again someday, but this will be the last post of Mormon X. That chapter of my life is over, and it's time for me to move on to something else.

As I soared through the air this morning, the song that I couldn't get out of my head was Pharrell Williams's "Happy." An odd choice, I know, for someone whose ex-girlfriend died, who got expelled from college, and whose girlfriend then dumped him, all within two weeks, but the truth is it's impossible to be up there, weightless and miles above any cares in the world, and not feel happy. After years of forcing myself to keep my feet on the ground, the thrill of finally cutting loose and enjoying the gift I was born with made me laugh with joy.

This, I thought as I sped through the air, the cold wind rushing by and the hot sun on my back, this is who I am.

On The Same Page

This evening Lucy and I were at my place, making dinner. I was reaching up to get some pasta from the top shelf of the cupboard when Lucy said, "What are you wearing?"

I looked down at the t-shirt and jeans shorts I put on this morning to celebrate the beautiful weather. "Um. Clothes?"

"You aren't wearing garments," she said in a slightly accusing tone.

"Oh. Right." I had momentarily forgotten about yesterday's trip to Walmart. "I decided not to wear them anymore."

"What?" Her eyes widened. "Ben, why would you do that? It's not like being kicked out of BYU makes you unworthy."

I bit my lip. This was quickly becoming one of those moments where you realize you're not as much on the same page with someone as you thought you were. I sat down next to Lucy at the table and took her hand in mine. "It's not about worthiness, Lucy. I don't believe anymore. I'm not a Mormon. It doesn't make sense for me to wear Mormon temple garments."

She shook her head and pulled her hand out of mine. Her eyes were glistening. "That's not true. You're just going through a hard time and questioning some things. That's okay. But don't make any decisions you'll regret later."

"I've already made the decision, Lucy."

We talked some more and I think she finally understands where I'm at. Until tonight, she was convinced that I just needed to work through some doubts, and then everything would be okay and nothing would change. She gets now that that's not the case. We talked all through dinner and long afterwards. As the evening progressed, she seemed to get used to the idea and to accept me where I'm at. I was nervous about having this conversation, honestly--we've kind of skirted the issue until now--but now I'm really glad we did. As I've said before, coming out as a non-believer is almost scarier than coming out as a mutant. Being surrounded by good people who love me unconditionally makes it a lot easier.

The Meaning Of All Things

Sometimes I feel like my life is an endless string of coming out experiences. Except today it wasn't coming out as a mutant. Today I confessed to my writing group that I'm not sure whether I believe in the church anymore. In a lot of ways this was more nerve-wracking than the last time. It's one thing to tell my Mormon friends that I have this challenge I have to deal with but at my core I'm still one of them; it's quite another to say, "You know, I'm not sure I even belong here anymore."

Tara responded the way she responds to everything: She gave me a big hug. "Just do what you feel is right, Ben. Heavenly Father will guide you, and we'll be here for you."

Galadriel responded in typical Galadriel fashion--with a joke. "So you're going apostate, huh? Maybe I'll join you one day. But not today. If I apostatize now, I can't go to Priesthood Session on Saturday and ask to be let in."

"I'm pretty sure that is apostatizing," I joked back.

Chenry didn't say much at first. I tried not to read too much into his silence, because I know from previous experience that he typically takes time to think before deciding how he feels about something. Sure enough, after writing group was done, he caught up to me on my way to class. "How long have you been doubting?" he asked.

"I dunno. I can't put my finger on any specific moment when I began to doubt. It just happened kind of gradually. Or rather, it's happening gradually. I'm not done--I haven't made any decisions yet."

"Good." He tugged on his backpack straps. "Listen, there's a lot I don't know. I don't know why God created mutants, or what he intends for you to do with your powers. I don't know why he ever thought polygamy was a good idea. I don't know why Pluto isn't a planet anymore, or for that matter why Pluto can't talk but Goofy can."

I grinned.

Chenry stopped walking and looked up at the sky. "But I know there is a God, and he loves his children. And I know this is his church. It's not perfect, because he uses imperfect people to run it, but it's his nonetheless. So I'm glad to hear you haven't made any decisions yet. Will you do something for me?"

"Sure."

"Watch conference this weekend. Pray, fast, all that stuff. But more than anything, listen with an open heart. It's not every day you get to hear a prophet speak. You'll hear what you need to hear."

"Will do, my friend," I said with a smile. This was an easy promise to make, since I'd been planning on it anyway.

Chenry gave me a quick, awkward hug, then ran off to a literature class on the other side of campus. And thus I came out to FOX for a second time.

Workshop Part Deux

Well that was... interesting. As promised, I workshopped my essay about being a Mormon mutant in my BYU creative writing class today. The results were varied: The majority of classmates just gave me feedback on the writing itself (which is, you know, the point of the workshop). Several gave me kudos for being so bold and open. A couple mentioned that they have mutant family members or friends. One girl who last semester workshopped a personal essay about her horrible experience dating a guy who only told her he was a mutant once they were talking about marriage (she promptly dumped him) unsurprisingly found all kinds of things to criticize in my essay--ranging from run-on sentences to pronouns with unclear referents to my apparent lack of empathy for non-mutants (and she also doesn't like my overuse of parentheticals).

The most... interesting reaction came from a girl I'll call Suzie. Suzie is a recently-returned missionary with long brown hair that she wears down and slightly frizzy. She has thick glasses and a judgmental smirk that comes out whenever someone mentions anything even remotely liberal or otherwise non-conforming, which I'm not sure she's even aware of. I suspect she's secretly attractive, but she hides it under baggy jeans and long-sleeve plaid shirts that she buttons all the way to her chin--you know, lest she cause a guy to have inappropriate thoughts. Here's an excerpt from the very long comment she left at the end of my essay:

Everyone has temptations, but you don't see normal people going around and flaunting their weaknesses. A married man who talked openly about his attraction to female coworker would just be inviting sin. A former smoker who keeps a pack of cigarettes in his pocket is asking for a relapse. There's a reason paedophiles don't get callings in the Primary. You talk about your challenge as if it's something to be proud of, even to the point of confessing past transgressions. The Lord doesn't want us to be proud of our weaknesses; He wants us to be humble enough to let Him take them from us. 

Yes, she used the British spelling of pedophile. No, she's not British. Just pretentious. I've kept her British spelling and introduced her with that description of a self-righteous Molly Mormon because I think she's kind of ridiculous and I want you to agree with me. But at the same time, her criticism has really upset me, and typically that only happens when there's at least a grain of truth to the criticism. I already know I'm driving a little close to the edge by openly claiming a mutant identity and hanging out with mutants and mutant supporters. It's a risk I'm willing to take in order to open up discussion about what it means to be a Mormon mutant. But the part I'm not so happy to admit is that I am proud of being a mutant. I'm not sure when that happened--it wasn't true four months ago, but it is now. And I think she's right, I probably shouldn't be proud. I should be humble. I should be humbly asking the Lord to take this from me.

But honestly? I don't want to.

Workshop

Remember when I was thinking of bringing my essay about being a Mormon mutant to my creative writing class at BYU? That plan was put on hold as I worked through anxiety about airing my dirty laundry in public, and then my life exploded and I completely forgot about the essay. Until this morning, that is.

At our weekly meeting of FOX, Tara asked whether I'd ever had the essay workshopped in a creative writing class. I said no, and Galadriel called me a wimp. Even Chenry, who had once expressed reservations about the whole thing, was encouraging me to do it. "You might as well," Tara said, "now that you're using your real name on your blog." It's a valid point, but I doubt any of my classmates read the blog.

As it happens, my turn to be workshopped is this Thursday. I already had a short story up on Google Drive, ready to share with the class, but I can always use that next time. So just now I made a few revisions to my essay, uploaded it, and shared it with everyone in my class.

*Deep breath.*

I'll let you know how the workshop goes on Thursday.

Famous

Today I was walking by the SWKT and some random guy stopped me. "Hey, is your name Ben... um, sorry, can't remember the last name... Petersen? Johnson?"

I nodded hesitantly. "Yes, I'm Ben. It's Christensen."

"Right, that's it! Christensen!" He laughed and patted my shoulder as if we were old friends, but his face did not ring a bell for me in the slightest. "You're Mormon X. I totally read your blog. Rock on, man!"

So it's just barely been a week since I came out with my real name and face, and now a total of... wait, let me count... one person has recognized me.* I'm totally a celebrity.

Image source: http://www.backdropsbeautiful.com/hollywood-backdrops/paparazzi-celebrity--6.html

*Not counting the woman who wrote this, but she seems to have me confused with someone else. 

Waiting...

I'm waiting for all heck to break loose after posting my real name and face here yesterday, but so far nothing. I'm left wondering if it really is a non-issue or if it's a ticking time bomb getting ready to explode in my face any minute now. Most likely scenario is that no one who knows me in real life reads this blog and everyone else is like, "Oh, hey, it's... some guy I don't know." I guess the next step is for me to come out to people who actually know me. Maybe post a link to yesterday's post on my personal Facebook page?

Out

Okay, folks, this is it. I thought I was being brave when I first started this blog as an anonymous Mormon mutant, but that was nothing. I had a pseudonym and a generic profile image to hide behind. But my friend Lucy has convinced me I can do more. By being open and honest about who I am, I can show people I have nothing to hide. There is no shame in being a mutant. I am who God made me to be.

So here goes nothing:

My name is Ben Christensen. I am a 24-year-old BYU student living in Provo, Utah, majoring in English. I am a devoted member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. And I am a mutant.

In or Out?

At tonight's UUPP meeting we talked about the pros and cons of being out as a mutant at BYU. Technically the Honor Code does not prohibit students from admitting that we have unnatural power proclivities, or even identifying as mutants, so long as we don't actively use our powers. Some members of the club are totally open with all their friends, family, professors, and classmates about being mutants. Others are open about being members of UUPP and supporting their mutant friends, but they don't admit to being mutants themselves. Yet others do their best not to be publicly associated with mutants at all. One girl admitted that the only reason she ever uses her power is to turn invisible when coming and going from UUPP meetings.

Image source: http://www.buzz12.com/my-coming-out-of-closet-story/

Lucy spoke out strongly in support of being out. "X came out to me on our first date," she said. (She didn't specify that it was also our only date, but whatever.) "And I admit, at first it freaked me out. I had a really hard time with it. And," she turned to me sheepishly, "I wasn't very kind about it. I'm sorry."

I smiled and squeezed her shoulder. "No worries. I understand." But I have to say, it felt really good to hear her apologize.

"As I lay in that hospital bed waiting to die, in those final weeks when it was a struggle to get a single word out, one of my biggest regrets was that I had treated such an unselfish, loving friend so poorly. I thank my Heavenly Father each day not only that he gave me another chance at life, but also that he gave me a chance to make things right with X."

Lucy sniffed. Hers weren't the only wet eyes in the room. All of us were touched by her story--probably me more than anyone. I had assumed until now that her change of hearts came only when Jan healed her, not before. But I guess she did have a lot of time to think there in the hospital.

"If X hadn't been brave enough to come out to me," Lucy went on, "I would have gone to my death believing that mutants are filthy sinners. Even if Jan had offered to heal me, I honestly think I would have said no, if not for the two months X gave me to reconsider my prejudices and to reexamine my ignorance. But in that two months I saw this mutant who never gave up on me, who visited me more often than anyone else outside my family, who never stopped being my friend despite the way I had treated him, and I knew he couldn't possibly be a bad person. And if he was a good person, then obviously I was wrong about mutants."

I had nothing to say when Lucy's speech was done, and I'm not sure I have anything to say now, except that I'm still feeling floored by the whole thing. When I came out to Lucy and she reacted so poorly, I was sure I'd made a mistake. I had no idea that so much good would come of it. I don't know whether her speech tonight convinced anyone else that coming out is the right thing to do, but I think she might have convinced me.

Dirty Laundry

Got an email from Chenry today. He apologized for missing our writing group meeting the other day, especially since he knows I could easily read more into his absence than he intended. He says he just had to work late at his overnight warehouse stocking job (this is what I have to look forward to as an English major). He admits he was surprised to read my essay about being a Mormon mutant, and says his first reaction was to think of General Conference talks about not airing one's dirty laundry in public. After reading my essay and thinking about it for a couple of days, though, he says he understands why I want to go public, and he recognizes that talking about being a mutant--which isn't a sin in and of itself--isn't the same as talking about past transgressions.

I'm relieved that he doesn't seem weirded out by the whole thing and that he's obviously trying to understand things from my perspective and to help. I'm also worried that his initial reaction might have been right. Between this blog and the essay and UUPP, am I being a little too careless about the private details of my life I share with anyone who wants to listen? No, being a mutant isn't a sin, but I have talked here about a couple of times I slipped up and did things I shouldn't have. Will people judge all mutants by my imperfections? Am I getting as close to the edge as I can without jumping, rather than keeping a safe distance? I mean, if I were a porn addict, would it be wise of me to run around telling everyone about how much I want to look at porn, and talk about the websites I'm not going to?

Why can't anything be simple?

What Does The Fox Say?

You may not guess it from the crap I spew forth on this blog, but I'm actually an aspiring author. I've taken just about every creative writing course in the English department, I'm applying to BYU's creative writing MFA program, and I'm part of a writing critique group. It's a small group--just me, a married guy who graduated last year (let's call him Chenry), a girl I worked with at the CougarEat my freshman year (Galadriel), and a woman I met at a writers' conference who works in the Wilk (Tara). For the sake of preserving my anonymity (which I'm starting to question, as you'll see below), I'll call this group FOX: Friends Of X. We meet on Tuesday mornings at Tara's office in the Wilk.

Photo credit: http://www.state.nj.us/dep/fgw/speciesinfo_fox.htm

I've been toying with the idea of expanding my first blog post into a personal essay that I could publish. If you're a Mormon then you've probably seen the anonymous "I struggle with unnatural power proclivity" articles in the Ensign. You know, the ones where the accompanying image is a man hidden in the shadows, angsting over his Very Big Problem. Yeah, that's not what I want to do. I want to publish an essay that is faithful and uplifting, but at the same time direct and honest about what it's like to be a Latter-day Mutant.

And I want to publish it under my real name.

The thought is terrifying, of course, so Jan suggested I test it first with my writing group. So this weekend I threw something together (it was easy because the essay was mostly composed in my head already), shared it with my Foxes on Google Docs, and this morning we discussed it. Chenry didn't show up today, which is a little unnerving (have I lost another friend?), but it went well with the other two. At first there was a bit of nervous laughter as everyone tried to gauge whether this was for real or I was just messing with them. Once we established that the essay was indeed non-fiction, Tara crossed the room to give me a hug. Galadriel joked about how she must be some kind of mutant magnet because I'm like the tenth of her friends to come out to her. And then we proceeded to critique each other's writing, as usual. No big deal.

So I passed the first test. Next I'm thinking of bringing the essay to my creative writing class. It's technically not against BYU policy to be a mutant, so long as I don't use my power, so I don't think I'd get in trouble with the Honor Code Office. And these are English majors we're talking about, who tend to be a little more open-minded than other BYU students. But still. I'm not sure I'm ready to open myself up that much. What do you think? Should I do it?

(...aaaand I'm going to be late to the UUPP meeting.)

The Date

Tonight I had my date with Lucy. Neither of us had anything going on this afternoon and we were both still full from Thanksgiving, so we did an early showing of Catching Fire, then grabbed dinner at Five Guys afterward. The movie was awesome--or at least the parts I saw were. I spent a lot of the movie focusing on Lucy's hand, which spent the first hour inching closer and closer to mine. I would have just reached out and grabbed it sooner, but I was worried about leading her on when there can never be anything real between us. Maybe that's okay with her--maybe she's not looking for an eternal companion right now, just someone to hang out with--but she should know what she's getting into up front. But I couldn't very well ask the theater to put the movie on pause while I explain to Lucy that I'm a mutant so handholding is as far as she can go with me. And her fingers were brushing up against mine, begging me to hold them, and I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to. Every touch of her pinky sent a wave of electricity through my entire body. So finally I gave in. I took her hand in mine and squeezed tight. I didn't dare look, but out of the corner of my eye I saw her smile. I didn't let go for the rest of the movie--not even when my arm fell asleep because of the stupid uncomfortable armrest. By the way, Catching Fire is a long movie.

I held onto her hand through the credits, as we waited to see if there was a post-credits scene (FYI there wasn't) and to see if they played Lorde's remake of "Everybody Wants To Rule The World", which Lucy loves and is on the movie soundtrack (FYI they didn't). I held onto her hand as we walked out of the theater and across the parking lot to Five Guys. I held onto her hand while we both ordered our burgers--she got hers with bacon. I finally let go of her hand when it was time to pay, and she got her wallet out. I let her pay because I'd paid for the movie, and I don't want to be one of those guys who can't handle it when a girl pays.

While we ate she told me about her major--accounting. I've always found math boring, but she was actually getting excited talking about the classes she's in, and you've got to respect someone who's so passionate about her major. She told me about how her family converted to the church when she was in junior high, and about her brother who's on a mission now. She has a really strong testimony of the church, which I also respect. And she's got these really pretty green eyes. We were done with our food but still sitting there, talking, and I was totally falling for her. Then she started asking about me. And I was feeling guilty about not telling her about myself before holding her hand, so I did it. I told her that I have a mutant power.

I didn't speak loudly enough for anyone but Lucy to hear me, but I swear the entire restaurant went silent in that moment. Lucy's face turned pale. She even scooted back in her seat, away from me.

I quickly explained that I still believe in the church and I'm not going to act on my mutant powers, but I just wanted to share with her this challenge I have. She nodded a few times and made a few polite comments, but then suddenly she had a stomach ache and asked me to take her home.

Argh. What was I thinking? Just because two people responded well to me coming out this week, it doesn't mean that's how everyone will take it. Being a mutant is not normal. It's not something normal people talk about--certainly not on a first date. Really, I barely know Lucy. I've been home teaching her for three months. I say hi to her when I see her at church. And then all of a sudden, I'm dumping all my baggage on her? Well, at least this way I don't have to worry about girls wanting to marry me.

Thanksgiving

I am exhausted after spending the day at my sister Marsha's house in Saratoga Springs. I helped cook, we ate, I played with the kids, we napped, we ate some more, we played some more, I helped put the kids to bed, we hung out late into the night. And ate some more. It was after my niece and nephews were in bed upstairs, my brother-in-law was downstairs watching ESPN, and Marsha and I were each enjoying our fifth slice of pie for the day while playing Rummikub, that out of the blue I said, "I'm a mutant." I don't know what I was thinking. I guess I was feeling bold after chatting with Greg several times this week. And I'm tired of hiding such a big part of myself from the people I love most.

Marsha picked up a tile. "I know," she said nonchalantly.

I did a double-take. "You know? How do you know? Did Mom tell you?"

"No." She laughed. "I tried to talk to Mom about it once and she vehemently denied it. But it's totally obvious. You walk like a mutant, you talk like a mutant, you might as well be wearing a black jacket with a big yellow X on it."

I tried to get her to explain what walking and talking like a mutant meant exactly, but she said it's like porn--she can't describe it, but she knows it when she sees it. But the important thing is that it really didn't matter to her. We talked about my anxiety and my fears, and she reassured me several times that she still loves me, that I'm still her brother.

I'm starting to think that maybe some of my fears are unfounded. People are more open-minded than I give them credit for--even Mormons. Maybe I don't need to hide anymore. I don't know. But I do know that talking with Greg earlier this week, and then talking with Marsha tonight, has lifted a huge burden off my shoulders. It's such a relief to be able to share this stuff that I've been carrying alone for so long.

All in all, a great Thanksgiving. I've got plenty to be thankful for this year.

Busted

Well, that didn't take long. I haven't posted for a couple of days because I kind of freaked out after something happened on Sunday. I'm still getting used to having a "secret identity," and I was bound to screw up sooner or later. Turns out it was sooner.

When I'm on my Mormon X page on Facebook, there's a message on the top that says "You are posting, commenting, and liking as Mormon X — Change to [my real name]." On Saturday I was messing around with things and apparently I changed the setting so that I was posting as myself. I didn't post anything on Saturday after that, so it didn't make a difference, but when I went back on Sunday to put up a link to my new blog post, I didn't realize I was doing it under my real name until after posting. I caught the mistake pretty quickly, deleted it, and then re-posted as Mormon X. I wiped the sweat from my brow, took a deep breath to calm my nerves, and said a silent prayer of thanks that I'd noticed the error right away.

When there was a knock on my bedroom door two seconds later, I literally jumped out of my seat. I closed my browser and opened the door. It was Greg, the roommate who is also my home teaching companion. "What's up?" he said. 

"N-n-nothing," I stammered. My hands were shaking and I was drenched in sweat despite the fact that it's November. I probably looked like I was high on something. 

"Did I just see what I think I saw?" he asked. He went on to explain that he had been on Facebook in the other room when the stalker bar on the right showed "[My Real Name] posted a link to Mormon X." It was only there for a second, but it caught his eye because he'd been following Mormon X since a friend of his from California had posted a link on Wednesday. He'd found my story about Lucy's priesthood blessing on Thursday night strangely familiar, but he figured we weren't the only guys at BYU who had given priesthood blessings to sick girls that night, so he chalked it up to coincidence. Until now. 

He probably saw my face turning green (metaphorically--that's not a mutant power of mine), because he put a hand on my shoulder and said with a goofy grin, "No worries, man. My sister's a mutant. I'm totally on your side."

This was all too much for me--the panic of realizing I'd screwed up, the shock of being found out, the relief of unexpected acceptance. My knees gave out and I dropped to the floor. Greg sat next to me and I just stared at the shaggy orange carpet for a few minutes. Once I calmed down, we talked. He asked about my power, about how it felt to be a mutant at BYU, about how I planned to deal with it for the rest of my life. I didn't feel judged or freakish or anything. I just felt like a guy with a problem. And a friend I could talk to about that problem. 

Thank you for being that friend, Greg.

What's In A Name?

In my last post, I talked about being brave. The truth is, it's not tremendously brave of me to talk about being a mutant (wow, did I just say that like it's no big deal, like saying I'm blue-eyed or that I like pizza?) when I'm doing it anonymously on a blog no one is likely to read. I considered using my real name, but the stakes are too high. I'm set to graduate from BYU in April and I can't afford to get kicked out now. Even though I don't believe I'm doing anything wrong, I'm not sure the Honor Code Office would agree, so I need to play it safe.

Which meant I needed to come up with a pseudonym. There are a lot of pieces that make up my identity--BYU student, son, brother, English major, aspiring writer--but the two aspects I knew I'd be focusing on here are the fact that I'm a Mormon and the fact that I'm a mutant. I considered Mormon Mutant, but I'm not crazy about the way it sounds. Also, it's just a little too "in your face" for me. And I got to thinking about the X-Men and Professor X, who are pretty much synonymous with the mutant rights movement. At first I wasn't sure I wanted to associate myself with them because that's not really what I'm about, but the more I thought about it the more I realized I am. Maybe I don't believe in using my powers the way they do, but I do believe that mutants should be treated fairly, that we shouldn't be ridiculed simply because of the way we were born. I stand for my right to be a mutant the way I want to be, and I figure I have as much claim to the "X" as anyone.

So I very briefly considered X-Mormon, but that sounds too much like "ex-Mormon," which is what too many people are going to assume anyway--that if I'm an "out" mutant then I must not be an active member of the church anymore. And really, even though both the Mormon and the mutant are parts of me, they aren't equally important. Like I said last night, the Mormon part comes first. Hence, Mormon X.

Welcome to my complicated life.

Brave

I’m trying to be brave, but honestly I’m terrified. Okay, here goes: I am—

No, I’m not going to start with that. That’s not what comes first. This is what comes first: I am a Mormon. I am a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I know that my Redeemer lives and that by his grace we are made whole. I believe that Christ restored his true church to the earth nearly two hundred years ago, through the prophet Joseph Smith. I believe that through him the keys of the priesthood were returned to humankind, and that priesthood power is God’s power. Anything else is counterfeit. I sustain Thomas S. Monson, the living prophet, and I know that “The Priesthood: A Proclamation to the World” is God’s word. I have a testimony that “priesthood power is central to the Creator’s plan for the eternal destiny of His children.”

And I wish that were all. I wish with all my heart I could stop there. But there’s more. The other part is incredibly hard for me to say, and in fact I’ve never said it before—not publicly, not like this—but just as I know that the Lord lives, I know this is what he wants me to do. I’ve been toying with the idea for a few months now, but the confirmation came today while I was walking across BYU campus, listening to my iPod (okay, I admit, I’m a little antisocial). The Sara Bareilles song “Brave” came on, and when she sang these words, it was as the voice of God speaking directly to me:

And since your history of silence
Won’t do you any good,
Did you think it would?
Let your words be anything but empty
Why don’t you tell them the truth?

I stopped walking, right there between the library and the JFSB. I think a girl bumped into me because I’d stopped so suddenly. But I wasn’t paying attention to anyone around me. All I could do was listen to Sara Bareilles telling me to say what I wanna say, to let the words fall out, to be brave. I need to talk about this because, as much as it feels like I’m the only person in the world who feels this way, I know I can’t be. And if others feel as alone as I do, then maybe Heavenly Father can speak to them through me, to let them know he loves them, just as he’s let me know that. 

Okay, now I’m ready to say it. This is the other part, the part I couldn’t say before: I’m a mutant. Yes, you read that right. I’m a mutant, and I’m also a Mormon. Now, I know that’s not the terminology I’m supposed to use. Believe me, I know. I’ve been seeing counselors at LDS Family Services for the past seven years (apart from the two I was on a mission) in order to overcome my “unnatural power proclivity” or “UPP.” But I hate those terms. That’s not who I am. I am a mutant. For whatever reason, I have powers that humans are not meant to have. I didn’t do anything to get these powers; I just have them. Does that mean I’m going to run out and join the X-Men? No, of course not. To do so would be to betray the other part of me, the first part. First, I am a Mormon. Like Nephi, I was born of goodly parents, and I know that any power that does not come from God, that is not priesthood power, comes from the Adversary. It’s hard sometimes, knowing I have this power at my fingertips and choosing not to use it, but I know that as I continue to put my faith in God, he will give me the strength I need to resist temptation. With God, all things are possible. 

I know this isn’t a popular position. I’m as afraid of backlash from my fellow mutants as I am from my fellow Mormons. To my brothers and sisters in the mutant community, let me assure you that I support your right to exercise your mutant powers according to your beliefs, so long as you aren’t hurting anyone. But as for me, I will follow the Lord’s path. The only power I need is priesthood power.