#iamamormon

Photography: Rachael Pearce Photography
Co Star: Lil Myla :)

Today I am going to be sharing with you is something that I hold close to my heart. If there's one thing that I hope to do with my blog is that it's a platform for inspiration whether it's health, fashion, or anything in between. I want to share this story with you (if any one reads this silly blog at all) because it gives you a deeper insight to who I am, and who I have become over the years.

From the time I could remember my parents have always been divorced. I was raised without active religion in my two households. I don't even think I had a concept of how many different religions there were until I went into middle school. Middle school was probably one of the biggest moments in my life. At school I met my core group of friends who I am still close with, and consider to be my besties until I die. The majority of the girls were LDS, minus me and another. With us girls having such a tight bond, I naturally became close with their families. My friends homes became my home. I felt so comfortable being around their families, and enjoyed seeing how much love was in their homes. I felt myself envious at the age of 14, wanting to have the family dynamic where I lived with siblings and both parents. 

My friends would invite me to go to church with them up the street, and that helped give me a better understanding of the church. One of my best memories was with my friend Shannon. Every morning her family would wake up early to do scripture study, and that dynamic not only intrigued me but sparked something in me that I wanted to be apart of. Determined to be apart of that morning ritual, I would strap on my roller blades, and blade 3 miles (up hill) to her house. I would get there earlier than I expected, and would curl up on her porch not wanting to wake anyone up. When I would fall asleep it was quite comical for them to open the door to a hooded girl sleeping on their door step. 

It wasn't until I was 15 that I was offered to take missionary discussions at a friends house. Excited to learn more I would go over to my friend Emily's house where I would meet with the missionaries. I was given my first book of mormon, and was told to pray to Heavenly Father to seek guidance. They said if I prayed with an open heart, that I would feel that this was the true church. I did what they told me to do, and wasn't quite sure what that type of revelation would feel like. A couple weeks later my mom and I moved to California for her career. When moving down there I was supposed to be hooked up with another set of missionaries, but it never happened. With starting 10th grade in a new state, I focused more on making new friend, and didn't pursue learning more about the church. 

Fast forward couple month later. Winter. My mom and I have  a relationship where we are best friends, and then we fight like crazy. One of our fights got extremely elevated, and she sent me back to Utah to live with my dad. I refused to talk to her in order to avoid adding additional stress in my life. A month later she calls me, and tells me she's in town, and would love to catch up. Thinking that this was our moment to patch things up, I was thrilled to see her. She picked me up from school, and drove me to my grandpas work to visit. When we arrived I was immediately scolded and questioned. "Why is your dad trying to get child support?" 

"You were in on this!"
 Honestly there was a lot more things said that I've tried to block out of my mind. I had no clue that my dad was going after my mom for child support, and didn't understand why they thought I was the middle man. Let me just say I'm not trying to paint my parents in a bad light, but this is a crucial part of my story. 

I was overwhelmed. No wait... overwhelmed can't even describe how I felt. I felt so betrayed by my mom and grandpa, and didn't realize that they could ever do this to me. I am a freaking child! Not wanting to hear no more I left.  I ran in the snow until I found somewhere I could go to get myself together. To this day I can't even remember how far, or where I even went. I found myself in a bathroom crying like I never have before. Thinking more and more about the situation I cried harder and harder. I called my good friend, and was trying to explain to her what happened. I eventually had a panic attack where I was on the floor gasping for air, and eventually passing out. The next thing I remember is that the paramedics came, and my dad came shortly after. 

When getting to my dad's house I did something that I hadn't done in months. I got down on my knees, and prayed. I prayed that if this church was true that I would find peace. I got just that. With being in the worst emotional state in my life, Heavenly Father was there to hold me and give me the peace I needed. 

Spring. I started the missionary discussions again. This time I was more eager to learn, and knew this was right for me. When the time for my baptism arrived, I was so happy that my dad attended. When I discussed my baptism with my dad he said "It's not something I agree with, but if that's what you want then I support you." Every time I think about my dad at that moment, I can't help but to tear up because how much he loves and supports me. After my baptism I got one of the greatest gifts I have every received. My first pair of scriptures. When I first opened them up it was filled with encouraging notes from all my friends. Whenever I feel like I need a "pick-me" up I will turn to the first couple pages of my scriptures, and read the love that written by those who helped get to this point in my life.

I really wanted to write about my baptism for two reasons. First is to thank everyone (if they even will read this) from my friends to my family for all the support and inspiration you gave me to help me make such a big decision. Second reason is to show you a deeper look into who I am.