The embarrassment started when a neighbor wanted me to try going to Young women camp when I was twelve. I loved camping and immediately took the bait and signed up. Armed with everything needed, we made our way up to camp Mia Shalom. I was so excited. I hadn’t done anything with the Mormon Church for years because I never could find out where to go (Yes, I was sadly clueless; there’s a Mormon church on every corner in Utah). Well, I was in for a surprise.
Feeling a little bit ostracized, and even more naïve to the general knowledge of gospel principles and the Book of Mormon, I sat privately alone, and most of the girls, even Laurels, made fun of me. Why not? I didn’t get any of the jokes, asked questions on basic understood ideals, and to say the least, was a little overzealous about being there – at first.
I really did feel the spirit, and felt wonderful like I had felt on my baptism day, but it always came crashing down at the snicker of a girl. By the end of camp, it didn’t matter how I felt. I was really disheartened.
Then came testimony night, the night before the day we leave camp and you either love it, or hate it. I, unfortunately, loved it a little too much. And it didn’t help that I didn’t know how testimony meeting actually worked.
We sat around the campfire, quietly, and the leader opened up the time. After a few girls had bore their testimony, I felt the spirit and decided I should, too. Now usually, this is the part where it gets sentimental, but I just ended up making a fool out of myself.
I stood up, said a few words about how this was different than I’ve ever felt before, and that I knew it was true, regardless of how people treated me, or how my family lived their life. I sat down.
Others bore their testimonies, some even tearfully, and some of them were so touching, I stood up again and commented on their testimonies and how mine was strengthened, or how something they said was sweet. I sat down.
Then a leader bore her testimony of how she loved each of the girls and loved camp and was glad to be called to serve in the Young Women Program. After that, I had to stand up and share that we all loved her, and gave some specific examples of how she had blessed my life, etc. I sat down for a third time.
I’m not sure how many times total I stood up that night to bear my testimony, but I know that in one of them I got my journal, read a poem to them aloud, and cried. By the last time I stood up, I had girls holding back laughs with their blankets around the fire. I didn’t realize at all that I had not exactly followed standard LDS testimony meetings. I didn’t go back after that for almost three years.