By Amelia Ten years ago, I was living in London where my friends and I often engaged in long, provocative discussions that sometimes lasted all night.
One night we had a long talk about whether we would marry men who were not Mormon. I had absolute trust in my loving Father-God that somehow it would work out that people who had the kind of marriage I wanted to have—a trusting, loving, deeply committed companionate marriage—would not be separated in the eternities.
So if I believed in God, I must be able to demonstrate God’s existence. In the immediate aftermath of that relationship, I lost some of my willingness to date non-Mormon men.
For the first time, I had been forced to face some of the problems that could arise when dating a non-Mormon.
But our differences in religious belief were problematic from the beginning.
Eventually I realized that, almost every time I saw him, J(2) would manipulate me into justifying my belief in God.
J(2) identified himself as agnostic on his profile. We’d talked about both of those things while chatting and we both felt like it was worth meeting in spite of those differences.
We had a wonderful first date and dated for about ten weeks.
So I surprised him a bit by calling him back and saying that yes—I’d love to get dinner with him on a “casual date.” Our first few dates all ended with us sitting in his car, in a campus parking garage, talking—talking for two or three or four hours at a time.
But I knew I couldn’t always be fighting the same challenge over and over.
And then he surprised me by saying he felt like I was arguing with someone who wasn’t there. And J(wh) and I have had some difficult conversations about what our religious differences mean—in our present and in any possible future.
Having been deeply hurt, I associated that hurt with the problems arising from religious difference and resolved that, for my own sake, I shouldn’t pursue relationships with non-Mormon men.
Since my relationship with J(2) ended, my immediate rejection of dating more non-Mormon men has tempered.