Above a casino and within earshot of a rock concert last week, I finished Joanna Brooks’ The Book of Mormon Girl.
The juxtaposition couldn’t be sweeter. There I was, in the City of Sin for a work trip, and instead of partying, I was quietly enjoying having a fluffy comforter and king size bed all to myself. I can likely thank my Mormon upbringing for that. Joanna writes about a very similar upbringing and the conflict it brings when you just can’t reconcile yourself with it.
From her book:
We inherit the ways in which our ancestors and parents and teachers were wrong, as well as the ways they were right: their sparkling differences and their human failings. There is no unmixing the two.
…
Mormonism is my world. It’s my language, my people, my music, my history, even my leaders…my God is a Mormon God. I’m not rejecting Mormonism. I’m not trying to reform Mormonism. I am trying to remind Mormons of the truth and power and glory of its paradoxical assertion of absolution freedom and absolute love, a paradox that is reconciled in Jesus Christ.
Our lives have different paths — though I feel lucky that they’ve intersected a few times — but I am the benefactor of her experiences. Her words spoke to my heart. I think they would speak to anyone who has walked a different path — or perhaps help those who can’t understand why some choose an alternate route. If ever there was something to be described as a “poignant tale,” this would be it. Spoiler alert: it ends with hope.
From her book:
No one should be left to believe that she is the only one. No one should be left to believe that she is the only Mormon girl who walked alone in the dark. No one should be lef to feel like she is the only one broken and seeking.
The thing with Joanna is she isn’t trying to incite change or create a tribe of followers. But she does just the same, because after I read her book, I walked away wanting to stand a little taller, be a little happier and smile a little more about the life I was creating. I think that’s exactly what a Joanna-ite would do, even though they don’t exist. But anything that makes me feel that way is close to my heart.
From her book:
I am not an enemy, and I will not be disappeared from the faith of my ancestors. I am the descendant of Mormon pioneers. Sometimes even in my own tradition, I feel a long way from home.
There are more excerpts — my Kindle got a workout highlighting — but so many of them are best in the context of the book. I laughed and felt a pain in my chest when she recounts her experience being in California during the election of 2008. I closed the book a little mad that I reached the end — I wanted it to continue.























We’re in house hunt mode. It’s stressful but fun. More fun than stress until you start crunching the numbers, and then it is all “oh, wait.” Isn’t it hard when the neighborhood you want to live in feels overpriced, and the zip code that would net a 4-bedroom home is the one you grew up your whole life avoiding? Alright, that doesn’t sound like fun, it sounds like karma. We just need to get out more and look more at our options.





