The Consequences of Being a Woman in Public

On a friend’s Facebook post recently, in which she asked if anyone could go back in time and meet their former self, which version would they choose and why. I wrote that I would go back to 2012, just before I sent off The Bishop’s Wife to a publisher. I would do everything in my power to convince that version of myself that she had no idea what the consequences were going to be for publishing that book, and that no matter how much she thought she needed to write that book, she was going to be utterly destroyed for doing it and for continuing to write about Mormonism in the three years that followed.

I have at this point been cured of the hubris that led me to think that any woman, but especially a Mormon woman, has any business speaking publicly about Mormonism, or really about anything. The stalking and the virulent attacks by Mormon men who posted reviews on Amazon, emailed me (possibly emailed my bishop or other church leaders so that I ended up sitting across from him and “splaining” myself about an essay I wrote about protesting the policy disallowing baptism of children of gay members), and the people who came to my personal page or spoke to me in person if they could find me to tell me how wrong I was, how stupid in various ways, and exactly how God was going to punish me—these are things I wish I could erase from my trauma centers so that I don’t flinch every time I step out of my house or hit “post” on something online.

I’ve slowly tried various things, from locking my Twitter account and making my Facebook posts for curated lists. I unfriended almost two thousand people on Facebook and even more people or bots who were following me on Twitter. And it still keeps coming. It may be that I’m more sensitive to these kinds of attacks than men, some of whom seem to enjoy the vitriol and respond to it. I’ve tried to just “blockety block” as one industry professional suggested. But it’s not enough. It gets to my kids and then it gets to me, and then the trolls get what they want, which is that I am silenced.

Good job, Mormon men who thought I didn’t deserve a voice. I’ve stopped publishing essays about Mormonism. Good job, also, ex-Mormon men, who didn’t want me to turn my critical eye on them. Good job, the man who sexually assaulted me after I gave a talk at a conference about Mormonism. I will never speak at a conference again. I will never publish anything about Mormonism again. I don’t lie when I write, but I have narrowed my topics considerably. I’m sure I’m still annoying to people, but the trolls are a little quieter for now. I’ve given up my lifelong dream of being a full-time writer. I’ve given up more dreams than that. I have a job where I pretend to be a nice customer service person with a fake happy voice which is actually far easier to put on than I thought it would be. I support myself with far less cost to the process than writing as a public woman.

I write this as a warning to anyone who might listen (mostly I know you won’t because you’re brave and I admire that and I hope somehow that you don’t have the experience I have even if I don’t believe for a moment that the world has changed). Don’t do what I did. Keep your thoughts to yourself. Don’t criticize men in power. Stay small. It’s safer that way. And safety is a real thing that you want.