Note: This is the third in a weekly series in which we ask someone to reflect on their journey from religious conviction to uncertainty, from dogmatism to doubt. Religion is filled with stories of faith; here we will collect narratives of unbelief. It is my hope that Leaving the Garden will give voice to a variety of travelers at various stages on their journeys. We welcome contributions: there are several lined up for the next few weeks but we’ll need more in the near future. If you’d like to share your story of doubt, please leave a comment indicating your interest and I will contact you with guidelines.

This week’s contributor is Yours Truly! My name is John Remy, and I am a cultural-Christian-Shinto-Buddhist, a former Mormon, and an unabashed atheist-Quaker-humanist-secularist. I spend the days slaving in the IT dungeons of UCI, the evenings with my wonderful family, and the wee hours dreaming of writing science fiction and becoming a religion journalist.

At thirteen I declared myself a secular humanist. This is good to remember when I’m tempted to tell my story as a fall from faith in God and Mormonism. After years of spinning a “falling from faith” narrative, it’s time to tell how I began as a humanist, detoured into religion, and emerged into the cold but brilliant light of skepticism once more.

A couple years later–on October 18, 1986, to be precise, I wrote the following (in tiny block print in turquoise ink):

I believe in the humanistic ideal of the Greeks: that every human being has a potential for greatness during their short stay in mortality…Life is perhaps one of the most precious of gifts. I know I’ve only got one as far as I know and I intend to do as much as I can during my life.

In spite of my upbeat, life affirming tone, this year was miserable. I listened to Depeche Mode (replaying “Blasphemous Rumors” over and over again), thought about suicide, and experimented with cutting.

In this same year, I renewed an old friendship. Chris and i talked a lot about anime, girls, and god. We talked about his Mormon faith and he invited me out to early morning seminary and other church activities. I was amazed at how many people i knew at seminary from school. It felt good to be accepted by these beautiful, friendly people, and the teacher, a cross-country and wrestling mom I knew well, spent hours answering all of my questions. This was a welcome contrast to my overly critical home environment and my typical emotional isolation. I began dating, praying, and believing. In a couple of years I was knocking on doors in Japan, sharing my convictions about an American farmer prophet and his golden plates. Another couple of years, and I was a husband and a father, raising up a righteous family unto God.

And experiencing serious doubt.

By the time I was in my mid-20s, I was reasonably certain that Mormonism was not God’s One True Church, little did I know that it would take me almost another agonizing decade to extract myself from Mormonism. In many ways, those feel like lost years.

In retrospect, I gained a lot during my stint in Mormonism. I learned how to socialize and serve. I met Jana and we brought into this world two perfect children. I felt that I was part of a greater story and community. Note that I freaking earned this, not the least of my sacrifices was a year’s worth of income. I should also note that my fundamental ethics were unchanged–in and out of Mormonism, I’ve never wanted to hurt others, and have always felt a deep obligation to give as much to this world as possible. Also, religion has always been subservient to my pacifism, which came from growing up near and visiting the Atomic Bomb Memorial Museum in Nagasaki.

Thankfully, I’m back on the humanist path, having survived the initially pleasant, but ultimately thorny Mormon detour. And thank goodness–this is the only life I’ve got, and I want to make it count.