I Was Tired of Thinking What Other People Were Thinking of Me

A month or so after I had been mourning with my friend over the loss of her husband (See Was It Enough to Mourn with Her?), and after her closer family and friends had arrived to help, I stepped away for a few days to be comforted and to get refocused on my writing. It was my husband that suggested I take a short trip to Tuscan, AZ – somewhere warm and sunny. We had gotten into the pattern of when I was in need of comfort and soul nourishment, he would send me away on writer’s retreats. 

Creating a Space for God

My writing had become my predominant source of peace. Between 2003 and 2005, I had attended writer’s conferences at BYU every year. But in 2006, I stopped going to those and started going to private writer’s retreats. For Mother's Day or my birthday, my husband arranged for me to stay in a hotel in Vail, Colorado for a few days. I would write, get stuck or have a question, go to a different part in the room, kneel down and pray, ask for direction, go back to writing, receive the answers, and repeat. Being alone like that and making a space for the Lord to come into my life – to Hear Him – in these early years was instrumental in developing my relationship with him. 

During these retreats and the months in between them I developed this habit of turning to God, rather than to anyone else. In 2007, I was still relatively new to communicating with him at this higher level. It wasn’t a matter of whether or not he was communicating with me; I realize that he always has been. It was a matter of me tuning in to hear his voice more distinctly, increasing the volume and frequency, and differentiating it from my own.

“My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me” ~John 10:27

Alone at a Hotel Resort

So, at this retreat in Tuscan, I was alone at this hotel resort. Most people were with other people. I ate dinner in the dining room alone. I walked around the resort alone. I was in the elevator alone awkwardly wondering if I should strike up a conversation or not. All this made me feel uncomfortable. I didn’t feel uncomfortable being alone in my hotel room or in general. It was when I went down to eat or sit in an outdoor communal space around the resort. I felt vulnerable like people were looking at me and wondering why I was alone. It started to bother me more because I didn’t want to waste my time thinking about what they were thinking of me. Yet, I couldn’t stop myself. It was like a bad habit. So, I started praying about it. 

Converting Thoughts into Written Words

My prayers during these days were written in my journal. This helped me make my conversations with God more tangible. Before, when I used to pray in my mind, it kept the communication abstract and in that vague realm of swirling thoughts and ideas. Writing them down converted my thoughts to the more concrete. And I believed it demonstrated to God that I was serious about wanting to know him better and his will for me. The bottom line was that it was the most important thing to me to Hear Him, not because it was the righteous thing to do, but because this was so intensely amazing, nothing could keep me away from it. At home, every free moment I had while I was taking care of my kids, washing the dishes, vacuuming, making meals, and pulling weeds, I was turning to him. 

“Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.” Matthew 11:28-30

When I started writing my prayers out in 2006, my growth process accelerated. It became more intentional. I incrementally became aware of things I hadn’t noticed before. I was increasingly aware of my negative thought processes because I felt this new censure in my heart. For example, when I had a prideful thought, my heart would suddenly take a fall - this small kind of bitter-fear-like feeling. The more time I spent learning about Jesus Christ and who he was, the more I saw him and his characteristics. The more I saw him, the more I became conscious of where I could improve. It was a combination of my increased awareness of his presence in my mind and these effects I experienced in my heart. It was like I had a heightened awareness of when I stepped away from him and his way of thinking and loving. This was extremely fascinating to me and I absolutely loved it. Even though I was being censured and it was hard to learn how to speak his language, I was so thankful for it.

Random Reciprocity Thought Processes

Consequently, I was experiencing a new level of awareness in Tuscan, when I was alone at this busy hotel resort. I was aware of my thoughts about what other people were thinking about me. I’ll refer to this type of thinking as Random Reciprocity Thought Processes. It was annoying me that I was doing this. I recognized how insecure it made me feel. I wanted to be free of it. It was getting in the way of my relationship with the Lord because when I thought about what all these strangers were thinking about me, I couldn’t keep my mind with his. I would be distracted. I felt myself stepping away from his presence. And I wanted to stay with him all the time, not only because I loved hanging out with him and hearing what he said, but also because I didn’t like the vulnerability of listening for what everyone else was thinking about me. In essence, when I would engage in Random Reciprocity thinking, I really was alone.

He told me that the way to resolve this problem was to value his evaluation of me more than other people’s. He said I was using Random Reciprocity Thought Processes to asses my value. He reminded me of a time when I had gained the most control of these thought processes. It was when I was engaged to my soon-to-be husband. No one else’s opinion of me was more important than his. When other people voiced their opinions, they surprised me because I hadn’t been thinking about what they were thinking of me at all. I was more oblivious.

“Look unto me in every thought; doubt not, fear not.” ~D&C 6:36

The Effect of Relationships on Thought Processes

I developed Reciprocity Thought Processes when I was a child, partly out of self-preservation. People oftentimes take offense to what you do or say or are. And sometimes their response process hurts. They don’t notice or accept you unless you do certain things or act a certain way or are a certain way. And sometimes that makes you feel alone. As a child, I picked up on this unspoken communication process. I unintentionally changed certain things about myself based on the positive and negative feedback I received. 

I also think this type of thinking intertwines with Empathy. Empathy is using Reciprocity Thought Processes, not to assess what other people are thinking of me, but to assess how they are thinking and feeling in a given situation. I use that information to determine how to best help them. This means the process of thinking what others are thinking or feeling isn’t the problem. It’s when I use the gift to assess how valuable I am to random citizens that the trouble occurs. Those people who have the ability to deeply empathize with people may have a more difficult time than others with controlling their Reciprocity Thought Processes.

If children don’t develop good, nurturing relationships with their parents and close family members, they will naturally and unconsciously seek approval and acceptance from others. They will adjust their behaviors accordingly. I studied this psychological concept in college. Some psychologists refer to it as Behavioral Conditioning. Over time if children live with a lack of love and acceptance in the home, instead of becoming their parents’ child, they become the child of someone else or of random people. I’m pretty sure this is how I developed this habit.

But when I met my future husband, I only wanted his approval and acceptance. It shut down any need to receive it from random sources. After we were married, we had issues from the get-go as most married couples do, but my Reciprocity Thought Processes continued to be bound to him. However, after around seven years of marriage, something changed in my relationship with him. Something started happening that began to block this bonding process. I was not aware of what it was, but I was aware of the change in the effects in my heart. Only with hindsight and training have I been able to put all the puzzle pieces together to understand what was going on.

The Value of a Growth Mindset

By the Spring of 2007, when I was in this Tuscan hotel, I was once again caught up in Random Reciprocity Thought Processes. And when I prayed to get in control of them so I could turn them off, the answer was to seek approval and acceptance only from the Lord. The more I valued him, the more valuable his opinion of me would be. This would close the door to my unconscious search for the acceptance, approval, and admiration from random people.

But that triggered certain questions and so I asked Him. Why would he admire who and what I was if he was the very one who was training me to become this? He responded to me with his own question: Are you only valuable to someone if you came into the relationship already equipped with talents, strengths, abilities, and beauty? Hmm…. I had never analyzed my thought processes so clearly. I wondered why I had been thinking about it like that.

“And if men come unto me I will show unto them their weakness. I give unto men weakness that they may be humble; and my grace is sufficient for all men that humble themselves before me; for if they humble themselves before me, and have faith in me, then will I make weak things become strong unto them.” ~Ether 12:27

He said there was another type of strength that was more valuable than other strengths: Coming into my relationship with Him ready and willing to learn and grow. Someone who has this kind of growth mindset is of more value than anything else because this person can become whatever He wants her to be. And I knew what he wanted me to be was the best that I could be. That’s what I wanted to be. The only limits were the ones that I created.

The pathway to get to this place and eliminate my limitations was to value him and his opinion of me more than I valued anyone else’s. This was a challenge because he was not right there in front of my physical eyes or anyone else’s physical eyes. And other people were right there. He was unseen. They were seen. He was walking with me unseen through the corridors of the hotel. He was invisibly there in the elevator and at dinner. I knew I wasn’t alone. But no one else knew it. His very presence communicated how much he valued me. He appreciated me, accepted me, and edited me. But everyone else could not see my value to him. I began to wonder why I would care what they were thinking of me. Did I value their opinions, edits, acceptance, and admiration more than his?

I decided I did not want to care about what random people thought of me. And that was a good start, but it wasn’t enough to break the habit. I had to make a conscious and continuous effort to delete the thoughts. Again, that still wasn’t enough. I had to replace them with Reciprocity Thoughts with the Lord. He taught me that you can’t just shut down the need to be valued altogether. You have to learn how to control it. For that to happen, I had to spend more time studying and writing about who Jesus Christ was. I had to essentially write him into my life as if he were physically there. It wasn’t about painting his portrait (although I have also attempted this with sad results). It was about coming to know how he makes choices, how he differentiates between two ideas, where they are balanced and where they become imbalanced. It was about understanding the way he governs, evaluates, and judges. What exactly is Mercy and how does it work with Justice? How does he love? What is love? And how could I apply all this to parenting and to my relationships with other people? Once I found the answers to these questions, I was judged by them.

What I have discovered was that it all boiled down to faith. How well could I see and hear and understand him with my spiritual senses? Could I trust the things I saw and heard that were only validated by my heart? Could I believe them above what I sensed other people were thinking, saying, and doing?  Making the choice to actually look at him was a sacrifice because his feedback was different than other people’s. That meant that he was asking me to make a choice between his opinion and theirs. He was asking me to become his daughter – a daughter only interested in pleasing her father. It was like this incremental process of slowly being born again.

“…faith is not to have a perfect knowledge of things; therefore if ye have faith ye hope for things which are not seen, which are true.” ~Alma 32:21

“Jesus answered and said unto him, Verily, verily, I say unto thee, Except a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God.” ~John 3:3

Deep Comfort

By the time I flew back to Denver, I had been deeply comforted. The cloud of mourning darkness had lifted, and I was ready to get back to work empathizing and mourning with my friends while deleting the Random Reciprocity Thought Processes. Since then, it has been a work in progress similar to the process of eating right. I go through periods of time when I'm better at it than others. But amazing times have followed! To incrementally learn about Jesus Christ like this has created the most intense feelings of Sustainable Joy that I have ever experienced. 

Was it Enough to Mourn with Her?

One of my good friends had just lost her husband. It was Spring Break 2007. He had died of accidental drug overdose. Having been really sick for a while and on medication, he didn’t know what he was doing when he took too many of his pills. 

Their seven-year-old daughter and mine were good friends and she had spent the night at our house. So, I was the one my friend called when she discovered her husband. I left the girls with another friend and went to the hospital. I was there in the emergency room when they were trying to resuscitate him and defibrillate his heart. I was there in the waiting room with her when she was shaking, crying, struggling with the pain.

During the following weeks, it was a time of great sorrow and fear. Her father came into town and stayed at my house. Her two daughters also stayed with us a few nights. I was often at her house. Anything I could do to relieve some of her suffering, I was willing to do. During those first few weeks, not many people knew what had happened. There were very few of us mourning with her. I had never mourned so closely with someone before. I felt the very real, dark, and heavy weight of the burden. 

When Spring break ended, other moms from the Coyote Hills Elementary School community became aware of what had happened. They joined us in mourning and volunteered to make meals and help with the kids. My role shifted to coordinating these services. I felt the burden lifting from me as it was shared by these other women. It wasn’t just the physical tasks that they shared with us. It was that they spiritually joined with us in carrying the burden. 

Many of them called me. We talked and cried together. I was living through the experience of what Jesus meant when he said “Blessed are they that mourn: for they shall be comforted” (Matthew 5:4).

The intentions, concern, emotions, and attention of these women had an actual impact upon the way I was feeling. I had been feeling the darkness of death, but they brought in the sunlight of life. I hope that my friend's burden was lightened when we mourned with her. Because I actually felt mine lighten, I have greater faith that hers did too.

“…as ye are desirous to come into the fold of God, and to be called his people, and are willing to bear one another’s burdens, that they may be light; Yea, and are willing to mourn with those that mourn; yea, and comfort those that stand in need of comfort…” ~Mosiah 18:8-9

My Epiphany

In the Spring of 2009, I was working on a writing project. I had been working on it for 3 years and it was crazy that I hadn’t yet been able to finish it. It was like being in a single college course and working on a single paper that I could not seem to complete even after 3 years. Yet, I would not give up on it.

It had been a very intense project. I had been consistently praying about it and receiving guidance since 2006. I was writing about the atonement of Jesus Christ and how that related to the central structure of story. I had taken a deep dive into the scriptures and had worked to develop my communication relationship with the Lord because it brought up a lot of questions in my mind. I was writing down his answers but was expected to organize and summarize what he was teaching me into something coherent.

It was evidently my weaknesses that were holding me back from being able to do that.  I came to the point where I felt like I needed to directly ask for help to break through whatever was holding me back. I needed to know why it was taking me forever to finish. What was I missing? Where did I need to grow or change in order to finish it?

I had read somewhere that setting a date was a critical part of the goal achievement process. After considering it for a time, I decided that maybe that was the missing piece. I needed to set a date, do my part, and leave the rest up to the Lord. 

My birthday was coming up in a month, so I decided to make that the due date. I prayed for God’s help and felt his confirmation that he would. I put my trust in him and over the next month, after taking care of my home and family, spent the rest of my time on the project. 

My birthday came. Despite hours of work, I still hadn’t come anywhere close to finishing it. But I held out hope that some kind of epiphany would come. The day was filled with the normal motherhood tasks. Additionally, my daughter had to go to a dress rehearsal for her upcoming dance recital and we were there for hours. The environment was distracting. I couldn’t write. My mind was tied up in knots. By the end of the night, I realized there would not be an epiphany and I wasn’t going to finish the project.

I was pretty upset. I cried. This was a failure. I knew I had not been negligent in doing my part both in my duties as a mother and as a writer. I went to bed still tied in knots and feeling a reaction of rebellion in my heart in response to the rejection I felt from the Lord.

Over the past three years I had developed a relationship with Him as I was studying his life and Atonement, which had brought me more joy than anything I had ever experienced. While I studied his life, he started “studying” mine in return. He spent a lot of time on me, answering my questions, retraining me, listening to me, and helping me overcome a lot of imbalanced behaviors. I could not choose to be angry with him, yet He knew that I had to deal with my pain. 

Normally, in a conflict I would allow myself to become angry with the other person whether it was someone in my community, my parents, a sibling, my husband, or a child. But He had trained me to bring this kind of conflict to him in prayer and we would deal with it together instead of my reacting to it and making the conflict worse. We had developed this pattern where I would come to him and get all my emotions off my chest. He would listen and empathize. I could actually feel this happening and hear his comforting counsel. It was always what I needed to hear. Once I felt better, I would ask him how I could have handled the situation better and we would walk through it. The next time the same kind of conflict came up, I was better prepared to handle it in a more balanced way. 

But this time, he was the person who was hurting me. 

The next day, I wrestled with my emotions. I was confused and on the edge of anger. I could sense him following me around as I cleaned the house, asking me what I was going to do about this. I couldn’t answer. I couldn’t let go of the anger, but neither could I hold it against him. Letting go was basically saying, “It’s okay that you’re hurting me.” And it wasn’t okay. But holding it against him was sacrificing the relationship we had developed. I knew he was a perfect God and if anyone was out of balance, it was me. But that twisted me up even more.

It was in the afternoon that day that I decided what was most important to me.

There are a million songs that sing about love conquering all. I felt it was literally impossible to forgive the pain. It was like giving up my life, but because of my love for Him I had no other choice. He had changed me from the person I used to be and saved me from all the bitter consequences I used to live in. He had helped me to love again. He had made me sweet where I used to be bitter. I was able to love my kids and myself only because of Him. I could not and would not give up this relationship. I had to let the pain happen without retaliating. So I did. I free-fell backwards. I just let it hurt. I submitted. I forgave. I repented. And in doing this, I was a strong-willed child again, but this time for the sake of love, I used that will to voluntarily accept the pain.

There is this song called “Waterloo” by Abba. You can listen to my aerobics instructor version here: Waterloo. The lyrics go like this:

At Waterloo Napoleon did surrender

And I have met my destiny in quite a similar way

The history book on the shelf

Is always repeating itself

Waterloo, I was defeated, you won the war

Waterloo, promise to love you forever more

Waterloo, couldn’t escape if I wanted to

Waterloo, knowing my fate is to be with you

Waterloo, finally facing my Waterloo

I tried to hold you back, but you were stronger

And now it seems my only chance is giving up the fight

And how could I ever refuse

I feel like I win when I lose

It turns out I did have an epiphany that year for my birthday.

My Financial Advisor

I was a junior in high school and my Grandma said she would pay for my college if I did the work to get accepted by a university.  Not long after I understood this, my grades jumped from Bs and Cs to As and Bs. Still, I got into Brigham Young University by the skin of my teeth. Once in, my grandma basically gave me a scholarship that paid for my tuition, books, housing, and food. This was a total privilege and the beginning of my freedom from years of having very little money. 

Just before my junior year of college, I went home for a visit. During that visit, I went car shopping with my friends. Before this shopping trip I had never fathomed purchasing my own car. But my friends were doing it, so why couldn’t I? I test-drove a few cars and imagined myself the owner. My car payments could be as low as $150 to $200 a month. At school, I had to take the bus everywhere or rely on roommates who had cars. To have my own would be awesome! It would increase my independence, which I was all about during those days. 

I happened to mention this to my grandma one day when I was visiting her. I was surprised at her response. She was very clear that if I purchased a car, she would no longer support me. I couldn’t believe it. This created a major conflict inside me. I wanted to do what I wanted to do. I had too much respect for her to argue with her, but inside I was writhing. Privately, I decided that I would buy my own car and support myself at school. I didn’t like people standing in the way of what I REALLY wanted. I was bound and determined to get a job when I went back to school. 

And so, back in Provo, Utah, one morning in the beginning of the Fall semester 1989, I had a dream. It was during that time between wake and sleep. I received the clear direction not to buy a car. I had the impression that I needed to humble myself and accept my grandmother’s will. She was paying for my college. This was a major privilege. I needed to realize that and submit myself to her conditions. Now, that is a no brainer for me. But back then all my brain cells hadn’t fully developed in my frontal lobe. 

In that state between wake and sleep all my pride and willfulness was down. When I woke up, I consciously knew that the Lord was directing me in this financial decision. Because I respected him so much, and he had earned my trust throughout my growing up years, I listened. I knew he had my back. I knew that he wanted to guide me along the best pathway. When he spoke to me, it was my pleasure (literally) to listen.

I treasured this experience, not just in hindsight, but that very day. As a result of listening to this and his other counsel, I graduated from college in the Spring 1992.

Fast forward 7 years to 1999. I was now married and had 3 kids. We were living in Westminster, Colorado. I was expecting Laura – our 4th child. This was too many kids for our Toyota Corolla. We needed a family car for everyone to fit. We had gone car shopping for a dark blue Toyota Sienna, their latest and greatest minivan. The van was expensive, but we figured we could make the payments. We actually signed all the papers at the dealership. They didn’t have the van on the lot, so they had to order it in. When we asked, the dealer said that we had some time to cancel it if we had second thoughts.

The next morning in that space between wake and sleep, I was counseled not to buy the minivan. I woke up and told my husband. He accepted the counsel and we canceled the deal. Not long after, we found a used Nissan Quest minivan for quite a bit less. In time, I realized that the Toyota wasn’t the best choice financially and the Lord had cared enough to help with that.

Again, I treasured this experience. There have been many times that I have received financial counsel from Him over the years. Subsequently, my family has always been taken care of. There have been tight times – times when we were very restricted in our spending and times when we lost lots of money in investments, but we have always had what we needed and have come through.

In 2006, we were living in Aurora, Colorado. We had our 4 kids and a few cats and lived on a couple of acres. I had a dream. I was at a bank teller. It was the Bank of America in San Jose, CA in the shopping center on the corner of Snell and Blossom Hill Road for those of you from my hometown. The teller was broken and lots of money was coming out of it. I got out of the car with a box and loaded the money into it. Other people were there doing the same. After I filled my box, I got back in the car and knew that I had scored a million dollars. I was so excited. I was thinking of all the ways we could spend it – paying off bills, loans, etc. 

But then I suddenly remembered that this was dishonest. I couldn’t take the bank’s money like that. At that realization I couldn’t seem to muster up the strength in me to do the right thing. I was experiencing an internal conflict. How could I possibly let a million dollars go? It was so much money and I had been thinking that it was mine fair and square. 

Then, just as suddenly I remembered that if I made the honest choice, I would have the Lord’s promise – the privilege of his guidance and riches that only come by being true to his way of doing things. Honesty. Integrity. I realized that the million dollars paled in comparison. It wasn’t worth it. We may have enjoyed the money for a while, but eventually it would come to an end and I would have traded something much more valuable for a mess of pottage (Genesis 25:29-34). I knew that what the Lord had to offer was everlasting spiritual and temporal support. I would be better off in the long run, even financially, if I took this money into the bank. And that’s what I did.

My Teenage Dating Years, My Father, and His Shotgun

We’ve all heard of fathers warning the boys who come around to date their daughters. We know about the proverbial shotgun in the father’s hands when the guy shows up on his porch. It makes us laugh, but the reality is that most fathers love their daughters so much that they want to protect them from the type of young men who have trouble actually having their daughters’ long-game welfare in mind over their own short-term needs.

Here’s an example of one father singing to the boys who will one day date his daughters: Thomas Rhett

I didn’t have a father who warned the boys who came around to date me. At least I thought I didn’t. I never knew my biological father very well and my mom had divorced my step father after a rough five-year marriage. Neither father knew what I was doing when I started kissing boys at age 14. But what I didn’t know was that there was a Heavenly Father with a shotgun standing between me and every single boy that came around. But He was facing me, not the boy. I sensed this shotgun, but I didn’t realize that was what it was.

At church I had heard about the law of chastity and I was fully on board with that. I never had any desire to cross that boundary but I wasn’t sold on the idea that I shouldn’t date or kiss boys until I was 16. And I didn’t understand the motives of some boys. I thought that their attention and kisses meant that they really liked me. So, I did what I wanted without having to report to anyone. Or so I thought. 

My first kiss was just before my freshman year of high school. It was during a game of hide-and-go-seek with some neighborhood friends. His name was Billy. He was my age, and I knew him from junior high. The kiss was brief and somewhat awkward. That night, I couldn’t sleep. The emotions I experienced were extremely intense. I found it interesting that they didn’t occur during the kiss, but only afterwards when I was alone and thinking about it. I was surprised by the depth of emotion swirling around inside of me. It was a mixture of good and bad feelings. I didn’t understand what it all meant. 

Billy wasn’t interested in developing any kind of relationship with me. I never talked to him again. 

A few months later I met another guy at a church dance, who was 17 years old. When he kissed me, it was less awkward. I enjoyed it, but afterwards I freaked. I described the feelings I experienced as gagging. It was a term that I borrowed from a popular song out of Southern California called “Valley Girl.” Gag me with a spoon was a good way to describe the Repulsion I was feeling. It wasn’t a conscious decision. It was a reaction I could not control. And because I couldn’t control it, I had to get away from him when he wanted to continue with the relationship. Again, I had liked to kiss him, but the Repulsion served like shotgun vengeance.

Over the next few months I tried to figure out what this Repulsion thing was all about, not yet understanding how my Father was working with me. I decided that it wasn’t a good idea for me to kiss a boy after I had barely met him. I needed more time to get to know him and develop an attraction to him. 

A few months later when the next boy came around, I took a couple of months to get to know him. He went to church with me. We exchanged the “I’m interested” glances for a while. We danced together at the church dances. His friends told my friends and my friends told his. We exchanged notes at school (archaic form of texting). When he asked me to be his girlfriend, we both were very aware of the mutual attraction. I told him about my past experiences and warned him that he needed to wait to kiss me. But as we talked, he convinced me that we had already known each other for a few months and that was probably good enough. 

It wasn’t. He kissed me and I experienced the Repulsion afterwards. I didn’t want to feel it. I fought against it. I wasn’t aware that I was actually fighting my Father and trying to push past his boundaries. I was trying to work out my emotional problems so I could make the relationship with this boy work. But every day in second period before I would see him, I started to tremble. My teeth actually started to chatter as if I were outside in the freezing cold. 

I couldn’t figure out why I was responding like that. It seemed like fear but I wasn’t mentally afraid of the relationship. The Repulsion was some kind of automated response in me. In fact, even though I experienced these feelings, when I saw my boyfriend during break I would kiss him anyway in attempt to smother the shaking feelings.

But two weeks of this was enough for me to finally conclude that I couldn’t do it anymore. When I heard this boyfriend of mine was kissing another girl, I seized the chance to break up with him. When he apologized and wanted to get back together, I wouldn’t. That was hard because I had already bonded with him physically to a certain degree. It hurt to end the relationship.

These experiences happened within a six month period during my freshman year of high school. After that, I didn’t kiss any more boys until my senior year. That didn’t mean I didn’t want to. But I ended up unconsciously raising the bar to guys that were above my reach. These guys were good, clean, totally attractive, and had higher level values (truly Christian!). 

For many years, I labeled the Gagging-Repulsion-Shotgun feelings as my Psychological Problem. I spoke about it in jest with my friends. But it was real. I figured there was something psychologically wrong with me because of some of the abuse and neglect I grew up with. This is why I saw it as a weakness in me that I had to somehow fix.

Even so, I learned to yield to the feeling. I backed off from a relationship if I started feeling that way. I eventually figured out that if I pulled back enough and didn’t cross the boundaries, I could maintain the relationship. How much I was required to pull back seemed to depend on the guy I was dating. I remember just going on a first date with this one guy and there was no kissing, but I was already feeling the Shotgun Repulsion loud and clear.

I dated a guy my senior year who rarely crossed my boundaries. We became good friends before he kissed me and when he did, it was very sweet, short, infrequent, and respectful. No Repulsion. But there was one time, I did feel it. I backed off a little and the Repulsion decreased.

There was a guy in college who I explained my Shotgun Psychological Problem to before he kissed me. He risked it for the sake of NCMO and I wanted the NCMO in order to spite the guy I really wanted who didn't want me. The Repulsion was powerful and there was nothing but regret on my part. I should have known by then that my Father would never allow NCMOs for any reason for me. The guy tried to force the relationship anyway, deciding afterwards that it wasn’t so much of a NCMO for him. But it was too late. The Repulsion only grew more intense and sickening. I had to stop seeing him. 

It wasn’t until after I was married and had started developing a closer relationship with my Father and recognizing how he communicated with me that I realized what had been going on. It wasn’t a Psychological Problem. It was the Atonement of Jesus Christ at work in my life. Because I didn’t have a father protecting me, He stepped in and played that role for me. And He did it by influencing me internally. I was given the choice to override the Repulsion, but I chose to yield to it.

At the time, I didn’t like my Father standing there at the door with his proverbial shotgun so much. Most teenage daughters don’t like their fathers interfering with their love life. But most daughters, when they grow up, change their minds. I absolutely love Him for being there for me. To be chastised by Him has helped me realize that he values me and cares about my long-game welfare.