Say More: At Last She Writes It

No. 35 | April 2025

Good for Her, Not for Me

By Cynthia Winward

I stopped attending stake conferences years ago,

for many different reasons. Numero Uno reason? It’s hard to see up close and personal the all-male hierarchy.

But also, those awful metal chairs.

And also … the fact that even when I attended in person I would often still have to watch it on a projector screen because it was broadcast from a different building.

And also … the majority of speaking minutes is given to men—often the stake president, temple president, even the mission president. And the women who do speak are often attached to these men.

And also … the lack of the sacrament—because, duh, it’s not sacrament meeting, it’s just a conference.

I distinctly remember one year, right after my whole faith life became a burning hot mess, that a stake president said how much he loved those of us who came to the adult session of stake conference because we were like the “people of Gideon” in the Book of Mormon—humble, blameless, righteous (Alma 7:3) unlike the main body of saints in Zarahemla who were a hot mess. Tears came to my eyes when he said that because I was desperately seeking a way to get out of the dark pit that I was in. Yet this leader assumed we were in need of nothing because after all, we showed up.

Shouldn’t it be the opposite? I needed triage support at my spiritual hospital. I know his comments were meant to be a compliment, but that was a wake up call to me. I realized at that moment I rarely heard substantive messages in stake conferences. That mostly leaders just told us how amazing we were for being so devout. I finally admitted this wasn’t a meeting for me and haven't been back since.

But this weekend, against my better judgement, I decided to give stake conference another chance. On Zoom anyway, let’s not go crazy. With so much buzzing in the Mormon zeitgeist about women’s equality, I wondered if any of that would be addressed. Spoiler, of course it wasn’t addressed. What can even be said at this point about the glaring inequality? What I did hear instead were mostly talks about the temple and missionary work. Of course.

But what made me lean forward on my green velvet couch was a speaker about my age who said that 15 years ago we had all been given ongoing counsel by our stake president to go to the temple more. She accepted the challenge. I perked up at her words because I remembered his counsel. I remember deciding then that I too would experiment upon the word and go more, hoping that I would finally learn to love it. She concluded by testifying that it had made all the difference in her spiritual life. I turned to my husband and said, “Results may vary because I got a different result from the same experiment.”

After that talk I was surprised how strong the tractor beam of compliance was tugging on me. I’ve made peace over the years, particularly with Susan as we have processed the temple together, in front of our mics, here, here, here, and just a few weeks ago here. I sat back on my couch, feeling all kinds of complicated feelings after her message. Why couldn’t I just be happy that the temple works for her and something different works for me? Usually I can do just that. But when I got curious about my out-of-nowhere feelings, I realized that as a recovering Rule Keeper, it is still sometimes so hard for me to be in large settings (even though I was at home, her message was being amplified to thousands) where the message is “If you do what the Church says you will get this result too.” I realized in that moment that I was feeling … shame.

And now, behold, because ye have tried the experiment, and planted the seed, and it swelleth and sprouteth, and beginneth to grow, ye must needs know that the seed is good.
Alma 32:33

Shame that my obedience never led to a swelling and sprouting, as Alma says. Shame at my failure to get the good fruit from planted seeds. Trust me, my churchy life would’ve gotten a whole lot easier if I had had the same results as that stake conference speaker.

I hate admitting to you, dear readers and podcast listeners, that in that moment the shame monster, like a Jim Henson muppet with googly eyes, reared its ugly head. After all the inner work I’ve done over the years, my natural wiring is still to be compliant. To go along with the group. As I sat processing my feelings, I was reminded of one of the best voicemails we’ve ever received from Marianne who said:

“I don’t have any doubts, I have beliefs. They just may be a little bit different and unconventional than yours, and that’s fine.”
-Marianne, voicemail from episode 204 (listen to full voicemail below)

Shame can also be the result of groupthink. Groupthink pressures people to conform, often silencing dissenting opinions. And since I have a dissenting opinion about the temple, I am in essence silenced about that opinion in any church setting. I mean, when was the last time you heard a stake conference talk about how the temple wasn’t good for the speaker but meditating in nature was? Not going to ever happen! Thus the only opinions we are allowed to hear are glowing ones. Like most of us, I have a desire to be accepted and belong to my church community. But since I have deviated from the group's opinion, I sometimes feel rejected by my community, or at the least, I feel very alone in my beliefs. Like last Sunday.

Like Marianne, I do not have doubts about the temple anymore as I gave it 25 years of effort. I just have different beliefs. After sorting through my messy feelings last Sunday, I also remembered an email we received from Rebecca—we really do have the best listeners—that we read on our recent temple episode:

“In recent years, I've made peace with the fact that the Church isn't ready or willing to address the wide spectrum of experiences members have when it comes to the temple. And so I have chosen to adopt Amy Poehler's famous mantra, ‘Good for her, not for me.’”

Having gotten to the root of my shame, (phew!) I knew the antidote to send that shame monster packing—a healthy dose of grace. Richard Rohr said that it’s our faults that “are the cracks that let grace in. We can only heal our wounds with kindness and compassion, not judgment and condemnation.”

Abundant grace for me, and for you, and for all of us who tried and tried and tried to fit our spirituality into the prescribed box.

Hugs,
~Cynthia

"I thought that being faithful was about becoming someone other than who I was, in other words, and it was not until this project failed that I began to wonder if my human wholeness might be more useful to God than my exhausting goodness."
—Barbara Brown Taylor, Leaving Church: A Memoir of Faith, pg. 219

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