Reading about the hoopla about opening the mission call got me to thinking about my return.


I served overseas back in the old days, and for much of my mission, I got very little mail. Over the course of two years, I got used to not hearing much from home, and though it hurt not to hear from my family, neither my ward nor my friends compensated by taking up the slack either.

At the end of my time abroad, my flight home was arranged through Murdock Travel, the church's then de facto travel agency. Because I noted a preference to return to a city close to my home, rather than one with more international flights a few hours away, I wound up being routed through three different airports on the East Coast.

Fatigued after a half a day of travel, I finally arrived at my "home" airport. I had visions of what this would look like: people with signs and balloons, family and members of my ward, hugging, crying.


Er, no.

The gate was practically empty. My immediate family had gotten there late and were standing at the wrong place. No one else had come - not my extended family, not my friends, no one from the ward. As soon as we got my bags together and started back to the car, my siblings started arguing, fighting, and yelling.

I had no idea why I had even bother to come home. There wasn't even a bed for me when I got back, and I cried myself to sleep on my parents' couch.


The weeks thereafter, I was never asked to present to the stake high council. I may have given a talk to my ward, but I wasn't asked to go around talking to the young people in the other wards. Hell, I barely remember being released.

Frankly, it was as if I had never gone on the damn mission.


So, yeah, I'm still bitter.

Tyson

Have you noticed that the Mormon church never once says thank you for anything you do for it? Not for years of volunteer services, or thousands and thousands of dollars paid to it in tithing - never, ever a thank you.

Missions are exercises in abuse.

wey Wrote:
-------------------------------------------------------
> Have you noticed that the Mormon church never once
> says thank you for anything you do for it? Not for
> years of volunteer services, or thousands and
> thousands of dollars paid to it in tithing -
> never, ever a thank you.
>
> Missions are exercises in abuse.

Exactly!

Hi Tyson

I am so sorry that after serving a mission you were treated like crap. That's terrible.

My Dad was also at the wrong gate at the airport. I thought my Mom, who told people that it would be glorious for me to die in the Lord's army, couldn't be bothered to take time off from work (half-day). And she worked for a Mormon dentist at the time, just crazy!

I had problems following my mission. I previously wrote about not being able to take on a full load as a full time college class after following terrible advice from a know-it-all professor member.

I did not feel welcomed in my ward. I was told by the new bishop that the Lord's way was to go to a ward of my own kind, Huh?!?!

I was told that it was not proper to attend my home ward; that I needed to attend student or young singles ward(s). The nearest one was 50 miles away. I was not interested in driving (6) 100 mile roundtrips every week. Too much for me.

I think I attended two different single wards. They were too quiet and the bishop would call people (impromptu) out of the congregation to bear their testimonies to fill in time during SM. One even attempted to assign me as a HT to visit certain young people in the ward. I asked if they would come visit me, but was told they would NOT because I resided outside of ward boundaries.

I stayed in my home ward, naively fighting off a barrage of mormon boundary breakers.

-When are you getting married?

-You can't meet anyone unless you go to the singles' ward.

I had one nasty sister ask me if I was a closet homosexual because I never brought any young women to "visit" the ward. Looking back, I should have slapped her for saying that in a public place.

wey Wrote:
-------------------------------------------------------
> Have you noticed that the Mormon church never once
> says thank you for anything you do for it? Not for
> years of volunteer services, or thousands and
> thousands of dollars paid to it in tithing -
> never, ever a thank you.
>
> Missions are exercises in abuse.

Thanks from the MORmON church ??????? ......here is your F**king MORmON style thanks !!!!!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GuN_ZDJKkPo

That really sucks, Tyson. The very definition of "adding insult to injury". Bitter is the correct response.


wey is right. Exercise in abuse. So glad the country I went to had so much to give to make up for the soul sucking mission.

I will say, once I got home, I have never felt so lost in my life. I felt like I was coming out of a coma. That lasted a long long time.

I would have been gutted if I had been called to serve a mission in the middle of the United States, and it was my greatest fear to have to turn down a call to Iowa. That said, my brother served in the middle of the US and loved it, but we're different people to be sure.

Despite serving with a lot of missionaries whose idea of high culture was playing basketball and eating Pizza Hut every p-day, I was able to find other elders who enjoyed museums, churches, parks, and so forth.

And while I suppose I could have even made somewhere like Iowa work - opera houses, covered bridges, grange halls, art museums, etc. - it would have been a lot harder.

Tyson

So true. I lived close to Canterbury Cathedral and remember visiting it with some missionaries. Canterbury is a terrific medieval building with history oozing from every stone and I was excited to show it to young men their from foreign country as part of the riches of my heritage. I was stunned when one them summed up his visit with the comment: "It will make a great grain store when the millennial comes."

Before the grammar police arrive to take me away it's there. I knew that.

I know what you mean by feeling letdown after your mission. I think it was mostly from feeling duped.

Leaving was exciting, not knowing what was in store. Families and friends were sobbing. The separation was painful and dramatic, especially when parents were told to say goodbye at the MTC and not go beyond a certain door.

Coming home was nothing. I was worn out after knocking on doors and being rejected. Some family, along with a good friend and my nevermo boyfriend were waiting at the airport with balloons, but it just felt off... I think deep down I must have known that I had just wasted 18 months of my life when I could have been at home having fun and finishing school.

My bedroom was a mess when I returned. It had been used as a guest room while I was away and hadn't been cleaned for my return. There's nothing like coming home to a messy bedroom after being gone for 18 months.

My dad had remarried just before I returned home. I went to his house to see him after being away for so long. I got lost and was late. When I arrived my new stepmonster told me they were late for a play and had to leave. I didn't even have a chance to talk to my dad.

You know, I don't think I ever really shook that letdown feeling since I returned home. Life was never the same after returning from my mission.

Wow. What that makes me think for both you and Tyson is that the parents had already gotten what they wanted out of the deal and there was no need to reward the pawn who made it possible.

"Our son/daughter is on a mission. We're special. We did it right!"

The contrast between that and what I ran into a few years ago when family could wait at baggage claim at the SLC airport is stark. There were so many banners and balloons and people that no one could get through and some returning servicemen were practically shoved out of the way. The military risking their lives being an even bigger contrast to the Mormon Extravanza. These young missionaries having done diddly getting the hero's welcome.

My ward financed my mission rather than my parents. I had completed an expensive education already, so I was effectively broke and laden with student loans that I could defer - though nothing like kids are nowadays.

What I learned (much) later is that my parents were too busy messing up their own finances to care much about my mission. I wish I had been home to stop their bad decision making, but not being there meant that they had one child fewer to worry about for two years.

Tyson

One lesser known secret that occurs at the SLC involves the missionary send-off when completing the time served at the MTC (pre 911 security changes).

I was clueless that family members were going to be present one last time to shower the departing missionary with hugs, kisses and treats. I was in a group of 9 or 10 elders who were flying to either Florida or Texas. My goodness, even the guy from a tiny mining AZ town had people there to say good bye.

And I was the oddball, who didn't have any family from Utah, watching all the hoopla from a far.

I truly can sympathize. I didn’t go on a mission, but the day after I came home after finishing a stint in the Peace Corps, my father went into rehab for his alcoholism. He had unexpectedly come to get me from the airport and was a total ass the whole way home. Suffice to say, all of my visions of homecoming, which I had been anticipating for over 28 months, were ruined. On the other hand, I was relieved that he went into rehab so I didn’t end up dealing with him those first weeks back from Armenia.

Knotty, how do you feel about your Peace Corps experience, all these years later? If somehow you could be sent back in time, would you do it again?

I'm glad I was in the Peace Corps. It changed my life and opened my eyes to the world. I was definitely ready to come home at the end of my time, although even at that time, I knew I would miss being abroad. I guess that's why I told my husband to get a job in Germany after he left the Army. ;)

My older sister was a PCV in Morocco in the 80s. I mainly decided to join because I was having trouble finding a job and desperate to get out of my parents' house. I happened to sign up at a time when a lot of countries were opening-- thanks to the fall of communism. Otherwise, I'm not sure they would have taken me. :D

It was a truly life changing experience. I don't know that I want to do it again now, but I'm glad I did it when I was young. And I'm glad I did it when the Internet was in its infancy.

Also... it was a great place to use ALL of my talents, including and especially music. I had some incredible music experiences in Armenia, which is rich in people who love the arts. You could see the ballet or opera there for about ten cents. I was lucky enough to be in Armenia when very few Americans were there. I lived in the capital city, and people knew me because I sing, and because of my blonde hair. Armenia is a lot better now than it was when I was there. I hope I can go back someday.



Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 05/17/2021 01:20PM by knotheadusc.

I think I was one of the lucky few. I mostly hated my mission but was so freaking happy to be back that it took me about three days of being in a fugue-like state before almost forgetting the mission ever happened.

I used to work for Murdock Travel. It was extremely Mormon. Manager meetings would start with prayer, until a couple of us complained, anonymously.

amazing experience (though I could NEVER have gone as I get too homesick--had a hard time even leaving home) and I sent a missionary off. I went to the airport. I didn't want to. And I didn't take a batch of cookies like I noticed other girlfriends did.

So when my disabled brother went on a mission, I couldn't go to the airport as I had just delivered twins by C-section that very week. So when my twins were 2 years old, I went to the airport for my brother's return. He was a CHANGED person. He never should have been sent on a mission. He's never been the same. He is 55 now. From that moment on, I started teaching my little son that he WOULD NOT be serving a mission. My illusions of what a mission was were destroyed in one tiny moment.

I'm really sorry for ALL THE HORRIBLE experiences you guys went through and the pressure that was put upon you to serve a mission.

There's a Mormon indie flick, "The RM," which treats this. It's light, cornball stuff, but it works all the cliches in. Yes, Tyson, he has the stock fantasies: the family and gathered friends at the gate with balloons, his one-true-love still waiting for him...all that.

There's nobody to meet him. He takes a cab home, which is locked. Putting a ladder up to his bedroom window he finds...a stranger--the house was sold! When he does connect with his family, he learns that "his room" is now occupied by a Samoan boarder. And yes, things get worse. Now, about his girlfriend...

https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0341540/?ref_=fn_tt_tt_2

I got it on Netflix a few years ago, but it doesn't seem to be available now. If you can get a copy, it's a fun way to waste 90 minutes which you'll never get back.

It's listed on Amazon Prime, but has a note "This video is currently unavailable to watch in your location".

Same rejection for "Home Teachers" and "Singles Ward I & II".

Seems some religion has veto power at Amazon.

They're cheap indies, written, produced, and cast by LDS people, poking fun at themselves in an affectionate way. Don't expect serious, nuanced comedy--They're often slapstick.
,
I saw "Singles Ward II," which is better than the "RM," and plays the fast courtship to marriage trope. The heroine is a convert who gets engaged lickidity-split after meeting the boy. She breaks the 3rd Wall, turns to the camera, and intones, "When it comes to marriage, we Mormons believe, 'the sooner, the better.'"

The guy playing her father does a great Rodney Dangerfield type.

No, not censorship. Probably just the catalogue of titles moving in and out of distribution.

I watch British comedies on a service provided by my library. They rotate in and out because they can't keep the licensing forever.

As for "The R.M.", I rather liked Kirby Heybourne in "Sons of Provo". The song "Beautiful Inside" from the movie always makes me break down in tears:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7hQMekunlH8&ab_channel=NAMS070809


Tyson

I could write three thick books on this topic just from my own experiences

Pre 9/11 when anyone was allowed to go to the gate, my family and about 15 friends all showed up to send me off at the SLC airport. I loved it - and it also made me feel worst about leaving at the same time.

During mission I was lucky in that I got lots of letters weekly from both family and friends. My companions were pretty jealous.

When I got home my immediate family was at the gate waiting for me - which was enough. My Mom had an open house/party for me the next day with cake and balloons and the whole nine yards. I felt loved and welcomed home and was so happy to see all my family and friends again.

Yet I still felt somewhat hollow inside. I still to this day have conflicting feelings about my mission. I loved the country, its history and the people. I also felt like I had spent my mission trying to defend my individuality as I could see how the church via the mission was trying to reprogram us into mindless worker drones with guilt and pharisaical rules. I had seen the man behind the curtain and was disgusted with discovering how the church was run. I felt used. Of course, I kept these thoughts to myself.

Though I was ecstatic to be home I still felt awkward and never really felt like I got my pre-mission mojo back.

"Yet I still felt somewhat hollow inside."

Liked your post a lot. You make me think it would take a pretty shallow person to actually feel like a returning hero from a mission even if lauded and treated that way.

Deep down we all knew? I was treated well, about like you, but felt empty.

"Deep down we all knew?"

Exactly! Almost immediately I realized that the church I thought I had grown up in was an illusion and it pissed me off. The obvious attempts at guilt and manipulation also turned me off. It just didn't jive with how I thought I had been raised and the church I thought I had been raised in.

Deep down I did know - and at that time was too afraid to confront it.

Wow--this brought back some memories, and not good ones.

My mother was very angry with me when I came home. She held it in for a few days and then lambasted me. All my failings, not being sufficiently grateful in public and private, and for writing a letter to my sister encouraging her to stand up to my folks when they were trying to control her life. "The dog found it and chewed it up," so when she found the letter the dog had chewed she of course read it. I had told my sister to be true to herself and that our parents were hypocrites. I still think they were. My Mom spent much of her life worrying about what other people thought of her.

Never a word of thanks or understanding for me, who sacrificed 2 years of my life so she could belong to the stake missionary parents club.

Wow, do I sound a little bitter? It was decades ago and I still feel the anger and the injustice when she blindsided me.

Can't let this ancient negative stuff drag us down. The mission was the beginning of my exit from the church.



Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 05/19/2021 12:27AM by Phantom Shadow.