Article: My power of choice lay...
My power of choice lay dormant for over forty years. I did not know that I had the power to choose. I was born in Salt Lake City, Utah in 1937 to a Mormon Polygamist. My mother was the second of his eventual six wives.
Somehow, fate lost me in the shuffle of my father's thirty-one children. I searched for definition among my numerous siblings. I soon found my sense of humor attracted their attention. I learned to laugh, even through tragedies, to survive.
The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints (the Mormons) relinquished plural marriage in 1890, in order that Utah could gain statehood. Therefore the Fundamentalists would remain firm in their original faith, even though it threatened their membership in their mother church.
My future depended on my identity with this polygamous group. We were taught total dependence on family and to follow the strict edicts of our forefathers. It was impressed upon my supple mind to listen only to our leaders, who knew better than us, how to live our lives and obtain our salvation. We were warned not to talk to strangers and to never reveal our identity or family affairs to anyone. I learned to deny my feelings because I soon realized it was not conducive to my welfare to be me.
Being a child of a cult had a bad connotation. We were looked upon with ridicule and suspicion. I learned early to not trust outsiders, who we considered evil. Women were devalued. They were merely the breeding stalk, which kept the movement expanding and alive. Those who produced the greatest number of children were used as righteous examples and given accolades.
The fear of Hell restrained me. Like a mule, I allowed myself to be emotionally hobbled. Blindly pursuing our cult's ideals and dreams, I offered myself as a necessary tool in my polygamist husband's illusion to further his grandeur and glory. My sole purpose (I was told) was to be obedient, by giving my husband wives and also to be sure I replenished the earth. We were warned to not let a year go by without seeing that a child was born under "the covenant." Soon I was popping kids out like popcorn. I'd given birth to thirteen children, all single births, before I turned thirty-five.
I'd been tempted momentarily by the "world's ways," but I was taught that monogamy would only bring me pain and suffering. The only happiness I could anticipate was in this world. Throughout all eternity, I would be damned for not living polygamy.
No one was more committed to these religious ideals than I was. How, after all the years of being in a religious coma, could I just walk away? I was totally unprepared to live in an unknown environment, with the responsibility of a dozen of more children and no one to turn to. Taking my first step away from mental slavery was excruciating. How could I ever make a stand when I had never listened to my own inner longings? Little did I know that the continual inner cries for "something more" were nudges from the Divine.
I think that I have accumulated more religion than most people accumulate in a lifetime. Like other polygamous woman, I was sincere. But I now see that I was sincerely wrong. I've taken a stand to speak out, not only for myself, but for every woman whose voice, through fear, has been silenced.
Copyright © 2007 by Irene Spencer