Fly: My Life in and out of Religion, Sexuality, and Then Some

© 2016 Annabelle Chaucer.

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This book is a work of non-fiction. Unless otherwise noted, the author and the publisher make no explicit guarantees as to the accuracy of the information contained in this book and in some cases, names of people and places have been altered to protect their privacy.

Scripture taken from the King James Version of the Bible.

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The author of this book does not dispense medical advice or prescribe the use of any technique as a form of treatment for physical, emotional, or medical problems without the advice of a physician, either directly or indirectly. The intent of the author is only to offer information of a general nature to help you in your quest for emotional and spiritual well-being. In the event you use any of the information in this book for yourself, which is your constitutional right, the author and the publisher assume no responsibility for your actions.

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ISBN: 978-1-5043-5753-1 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5043-5755-5 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-5043-5754-8 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2016907281

Balboa Press rev. date: 06/25/2016

Contents

Introduction

The Turning Point

My History

•   Childhood in Regards to Religion

•   Growing Up

•   Assumptions

•   Pre-qualification

Being in The LDS Faith

•   Unexpected Adventures

•   Committing

•   Married Life

•   Birth-Day Gift

•   Breastfeeding

•   Contraception

•   Moral Responsibility

•   Searching

•   Perspective Alteration

•   Paramount

•   Link

•   Heartbreak

Augmentation

•   Authority

•   Tragedy

•   Study Abroad

My Time to Leave

•   Skydiving

•   A Miracle

•   My Muse

Rebellion?

•   Tattoos

•   Modesty

•   Alcohol

•   Profanity

•   Femininity

Relationships

•   Tense Much?

•   Alone

•   Sex Ed

•   Therapy

•   Rudimentary

Educating One’s Self

•   The Greats

Encouragement

•   Join The Club

About the Author

Introduction

Welcome to my creation. I want to begin by thanking you for your interest in what I have to say, specifically in sensitive topics such as religion and sexuality. I find it amazing how intertwined these things are and have felt very strongly that I might do some good to share my story and my involvement in them. Although this account is not the entirety of what I have experienced, I focus on a few highlights in order to keep my book short and sweet. My intent is to clearly express my own experiences and not speak for anyone else who might have played a part in them. To write this book has helped me see things from my inner perspective, the parts of myself that I wouldn’t have noticed otherwise. I guess it’s what makes my story unique. I have found growth and understanding in myself from doing this. I aim to help anyone that can relate to my experience in any way. My goal is not to breed hate, but to instead inspire; to show that there is joy and love after making such decisions as I have, and to disclose what has come about for me because of it. In short, I want to open a door of discussion for everyone who has struggled to share themselves completely out of fear like I have. No one is alone in this.

In summary, a lot of the reason I am willing to be so open in this book is because others have been open with me. Learning from example, I’ve realized that in sharing my story it can, in turn, help others to do the same. Finding strength in vulnerability is a practice that can benefit all of us. Finally, I encourage you to really look inside, face your fears, and open up to others. You’d be surprised how you can help their lives without even trying.

Love,

Annabelle

There is freedom waiting for you,

On the breezes of the sky,

And you ask What if I fall?

Oh but my darling,

What if you fly?

— Erin Hanson

The Turning Point

As I wearily trudged through the airport, making my way to the baggage claim, my mind was on autopilot. I had not slept for two days now, and the sixteen-plus hour flight with one stop in Chicago was sleepless as well. Exhaustion had hit a whole new level I had never experienced until this moment. So this is what it’s like to be a zombie, I thought. My brain felt fuzzy, and my attention was limited. I was numb everywhere except my left shoulder, which had been harboring the majority of the weight I bore from a purse of essentials and an over-packed carry-on full of souvenirs. My right hand pathetically held the handles on each bag in order to keep my body in balance. Continuing to put one foot in front of the other toward the promise of home, I looked up to my gleaming target: baggage claim. I was so determined to reach the large, silver turntable that was now spitting out luggage from my flight that I unknowingly passed my sweet husband. In my defense he had grown somewhat of a beard in my absence, and all my sense of recognition was gone. It had been a long month. As though I was being called through a fog, I turned toward him saying my name and sweeping me up in a long overdue embrace. I had waited for that hug for weeks and couldn’t keep the tears from flowing. It was so fantastic to finally be touched by someone that loved me. Being the loving man of service that he is, Ed took care of everything after that by relieving my shoulder, finding and retrieving my checked bag, and then leading me to our car to which I–unable to do anything but–followed dazed and confused. I was happy to finally be home.

Once we arrived at our house, I was led to the bedroom and helped to get undressed for some much needed sleep. Why aren’t you wearing your garments? he asked, looking at my bra and underwear. Without any kind of filter, I told him bluntly that while in Europe, it was difficult to do laundry often, so it seemed easier after a while not to wear them. I explained that I had also begun to have spiritual experiences to a point that I knew I didn’t need to wear garments in order to feel closer to or be protected by God. I don’t know if he thought I was just so tired that I didn’t know what I was talking about, but he said, Okay, and left to pick up our son from a relative’s home.

In his absence, I thought over my statement again and again, questioning and then doubting my own experiences. After only a few minutes, I had discounted myself enough that I started to put on a fresh pair of my garments from the closet. As I put my arms and head through the spandex material, I felt my throat tighten. After I put on the shorts, and the garments were on completely, I felt an extremely strong sensation of hands around my neck choking me. A wave of fear shot up inside to where all I could do was rip off my garments again in hopes that the feeling would pass. And it did immediately. I thought to myself, Am I done wearing these? From that single thought, an amazing sense of peace and comfort filled my being. I then grabbed a spare box and packed up all my garments, taped it shut, and set it high on a shelf. Curling up in bed, I slept soundly for the first time in what felt like ages.

People of the Mormon faith receive their garments after being endowed within an LDS temple. The garments are expected to be worn throughout lifetime in any circumstance other than working out, swimming, or bathing. Garments are fashioned out of underwear-like material and are to be worn under a worthy temple goer’s everyday attire. They are designed as a shirt and shorts that cover the sacred parts of the body from the shoulders to the knee. They are worn as a constant reminder of covenants made in the temple and are also revered as a protection against temptation and evil.

At the time, I couldn’t dispose of my garments due to the small voice in my head doubting what I had just experienced. Doubting for me seemed to be a habit regardless of how powerful the experience. My mind retaliated through reason by reminding me that there are rules and regulations that temple clothing cannot be given away, but instead, purchased through proper lines of authority and worthiness. If I did want to do anything with them, I heard I would need to cut out the special symbols and then burn the fabric remaining, but what I was supposed to do with the cut out symbols was beyond me. To me, it was easier to put them out of sight and out of mind to avoid dilemmas such as these. To this day, I haven’t opened that box or felt a need to wear the garments in any way.

That day seemed to physically mark the beginning of the end of living my life as a Mormon. Although throughout my lifetime I had always been internally questioning what was really true about religion, spirituality, and God, I never really trusted myself enough to seriously ponder the legitimacy of what everyone else told me and decide for myself if it was right, let alone act in any event when I thought it wasn’t. Up until this point, I could have probably been called a lemming, for lack of a better word, because of how easily I followed instruction and common belief. All in all, I had made a major personal breakthrough that day and had decided to never give up on allowing myself the opportunity to choose my own truth from thenceforth on.

My History

Childhood in Regards to Religion

One vulnerable fact about me is this: I grew up in a polygamous household. Yep. In my lifetime, from birth to age eight, my parents were active in a Fundamentalist Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints (FLDS) offshoot called The Group. Since I was so young at the time, I only have a few memories of being involved in the polygamist community: singing primary songs and playing the part of a lamb in a Christmas play are the only ones that come to mind. Around the time I was four, Dad married Tina, his second wife. It was a beautiful reception up in Montana at her parents’ home, filled with lots of family. I vaguely remember the wedding as I ran around sneaking gummy bears from the snack table and showing off my 1990s-style dress that matched my two older sisters’ dresses. Even though I was naive to everything that was happening, this was actually the hope of years of fasting and prayer on both my father’s and mother’s parts. Dad was a direct product of polygamy, whereas when Mom was about ten years old, her mother married Grandpa (who already had two wives and were all affiliated with The Group). Grandma later converted to The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints (LDS who claim un-affiliation with FLDS sects) and was a driving force in my own conversion as well. But at the time Tina came into the picture, all I understood was that I would now have another mom, only we couldn’t call her Mom because it might draw suspicion. So we were told to just call her by her name instead: Tina. Being the carefree kid that I was, I didn’t mind the change. More friends for me! Right?

From that point on, all of the children were expected to keep it a secret from anyone outside our family. There was always a looming fear that Dad would go to jail because he was doing something that was illegal in Utah or that we would be taken away because of the relationship. I faithfully kept to that fear-based thinking and only confided my family secrets in my dear friend, Audrey, in the third grade. She took the news well, and we remain friends to this day. Other friends found out through my other siblings that told their siblings. But I myself felt safe telling only two people outside my family for the first twenty-plus years of my life: Audrey and Ed. I will expound on Ed’s story later.

At home, transitioning from a monogamous environment to a polygamous one was not the easiest thing to experience. Tina brought many new perspectives and rules that I didn’t understand completely and found difficult to follow. I remember getting in trouble once for listening to and singing along with the song I’m Blue by Eiffel 65. Tina explained to me that the song was evil and that it wouldn’t be tolerated in our home. I ran to tell Dad about it, and he sided with his new wife. I was so mad over the injustice that I yelled, I wish that you never married Tina! That was