I met my younger self for coffee this morning. She showed up 10 minutes early and waited anxiously in her car. I was a few minutes late after dropping the kids off at their grandma’s house. She ordered an herbal tea. I ordered a latte with oat milk. She was wearing her garments. I wasn’t. She told me she didn’t know what she wanted to do with her life. I told her I’ve found my passion—helping people rebuild after leaving a high-demand religion. She couldn’t make sense of the god she’d been taught. I told her she didn’t have to. She said bull crap. I said bullshit. She said she couldn’t imagine a life without Mormonism. I told her to take her time—that one day, she’d see how at peace we are on the other side.
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