Reacting to My Very Mormon Childhood Journals

If there’s one thing Mormonism is good at—besides creating a network of genealogists—it’s encouraging journaling. As a former devout Mormon girl, my journals are like time capsules of my younger self: awkward, deeply religious, and slightly embarrassing.

The idea behind it? To chronicle your spiritual journey so your future kids can marvel at how committed you were to the gospel—or at least, that’s what I was told. Spoiler: My kids are probably just going to laugh at me.

But these journals weren’t just a private diary where I poured out my crushes and petty teenage grievances. Nope, Mormon journaling is an art form, part of the Sabbath observance and spiritual reflection, inspired by none other than The Book of Mormon—a religious text made up of prophet journals. Talk about a heavy legacy.

So buckle up, folks, as we dive into the hilarity and heartbreak of my Mormon journal entries, how they reveal the way my faith shaped my life, and what it’s like to revisit them as an ExMormon.

Journaling: The Mormon Way

Growing up Mormon, journaling wasn’t just encouraged; it was practically an unspoken commandment. My family was big on it, seeing it as a way to reflect on our path in life. There’s a theological layer to this too: Mormons are taught that their journals might be read by future generations. So, no pressure, right? Every time I wrote, I pictured my hypothetical great-grandkids reading my entries, nodding in admiration at my spiritual dedication.

My journals weren’t private at all. These weren’t diaries tucked under my bed with a lock and key. They were carefully curated chronicles of faith and big life events, shaped by the idea that my entries were a testament to my devotion. Forget spilling secrets; I was out here documenting my testimony and how many chapters of The Book of Mormon I read that week.

Writing for Posterity—or the Prophets?

In Mormonism, there’s this fascinating connection between journaling and scripture. The Book of Mormon itself is presented as a series of journals from prophets, passed down through generations and eventually compiled into golden plates for Joseph Smith to “translate.” Because of this, journaling is seen as more than a personal endeavor; it’s almost like you’re writing your own little chapter of spiritual history.

It’s no wonder my entries focused on how devout I was rather than my actual life. I was writing to an imagined audience of future generations, church members, and maybe even angels. And trust me, I tried to make myself look good.

The One-Dimensional Entries

Rereading my journals today, I can’t help but cringe at how narrow they were. Every entry was soaked in Mormonism—what scripture I read, how my church callings were going, or how guilty I felt for sneaking a snack on fast Sunday. There’s barely a whisper of my “real” childhood experiences. Did I have a crush? Probably. Did I write about it? Nope. Did I vent about bad days at school? Not a chance.

I wish I could go back and find a record of my day-to-day life outside of the church. Instead, my journals are dominated by religious observance, from my Young Women’s projects to my plans to finish reading The Book of Mormon (spoiler: I didn’t).

General Conference, Fast Sundays, and Spiritual Guilt

Oh, General Conference. Twice a year, we’d sit through 10 hours of meetings over a weekend, listening to church leaders. As a kid, I took it seriously, transcribing talks into my journal like they were scripture—which, in Mormonism, they technically are.

Fast Sundays were another recurring theme. For the uninitiated, it’s when Mormons go without food and water for 24 hours once a month. I started fasting at age eight, and it was brutal. I’d sneak food, feel horribly guilty, and pray for forgiveness. My journal entries from these Sundays are a mix of hunger-fueled frustration and desperate attempts to feel spiritual.

My Missionary Journals: A Different Kind of Intensity

Let’s skip ahead to my mission. For those who don’t know, Mormon missions are intense, immersive experiences where young adults dedicate 18 months to two years to preaching the gospel. During this time, journaling becomes part of the daily routine. Every night, I’d write about my missionary experiences—door-knocking, teaching lessons, or struggling with homesickness.

These journals are the most thorough I’ve ever kept, and they reflect how deeply I was committed to the church at the time. Looking back, they’re like reading the thoughts of a different person—a version of myself filtered through the expectations and doctrines of Mormonism.

Genealogy: The Mormon Obsession

A fun little quirk of Mormon journaling is the genealogy section. Many church-provided journals include space to write your family tree, going back three generations. Why? Because Mormons are all about “forever families.” The idea is that through temple ordinances, we’re sealed to our ancestors for eternity.

My journals include my parents’ names, grandparents, and even great-grandparents. If someone in my family tree wasn’t Mormon, it was my job to make sure they were “taken care of” through posthumous ordinances like baptisms for the dead. Yes, you read that right—Mormons baptize people after they’ve died, giving them the choice to accept the gospel in the afterlife.

Revisiting My Journals as an ExMormon

Reading my old journals now, as an ExMormon, feels like opening a time capsule from a parallel universe. The girl who wrote those entries was devout, earnest, and completely absorbed in the church. I don’t recognize her anymore.

Every entry feels filtered through a Mormon lens—what I should say, what I should feel, how I should present myself. Now, I live without that filter, and the difference is night and day. My life feels fuller, freer, and more authentic.

Journaling was a big part of my Mormon upbringing, and while I cringe at some of those entries now, I’m grateful for the record they provide. They show how deeply my faith shaped my younger self—and how far I’ve come since leaving the church.

If you’re an ExMormon like me, revisiting your past through journals can be bittersweet. It’s a reminder of who you were, who you were trying to be, and how much you’ve grown. And if you’re still Mormon, remember: Journaling isn’t about perfection. Write about your crushes, your frustrations, and the little things that make life fun. Your future self will thank you.