Note: These reflections are shaped by my life within the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and my decision to leave. But I hope they find a home with anyone who has ever felt “internal friction” in a place that once brought peace.

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For many who grew up in or around the LDS faith, General Conference is a landmark on the calendar – a weekend every April and October where leadership speaks for eight to ten hours across multiple sessions, broadcasted to members all around the world.

When I was younger, I genuinely looked forward to it. Conference weekend meant being in the mountains, tucked away in a cozy cabin. It meant homemade ice cream, the sound of cousins laughing, and the comforting, steady hum of talks playing in the background. It felt warm. Grounding. Meaningful.

And for so many people I love, it still is.

But as I grew older, something shifted. That “warmth” began to feel like heat, and for a long time, I didn’t understand why.

The Weight of “All or Nothing”

At the time, my all-or-nothing mindset left me with no language to describe my struggle. I translated my discomfort into a sense of “badness,” which quickly spiraled into deep self-doubt. I began to question my own worthiness – not just of my achievements, but of my very presence in the world.

I didn’t know how to explain the tightness in my chest, the restlessness in my limbs, or the sense of dread that replaced what had once been comfort. I know now that these were somatic responses – my body’s way of talking to me – but back then, I just thought I was failing. Eventually, that internal noise became too loud to ignore, and it became a major part of my decision to step away.

I want to say this clearly: My experience is my own. I know that for many, the Church is a source of deep peace and community. This isn’t a criticism of anyone’s faith; it’s simply a reflection of what I wish I had understood about myself much sooner.

Your Nervous System is Talking

One of the biggest lessons I’ve learned is that my body was trying to communicate with me, even when my brain wasn’t ready to hear it.

I didn’t understand the fight-or-flight response back then. I didn’t realize that our nervous systems don’t just react to physical danger – they react to emotional and psychological stress, too. Because I thought my distress was a sign that I “wasn’t good enough,” I just piled more self-criticism on top of the anxiety, which only made the alarm bells ring louder.

I would feel my heart race. My breathing would get shallow. My body would tense up as if I were bracing for an impact. Back then, I told myself: “You need to try harder. You need to believe more. You need to fix yourself.” Looking back with more compassion, I see that my body was just being honest. It was responding to how I was processing those experiences in real-time. I didn’t need a “fix”; I needed to slow down and nurture my heart.

Two Truths Can Sit in the Same Room

I wish I had known sooner that two people can sit in the very same room, hear the very same message, and have completely different internal experiences – and both are valid.

For some, a specific teaching feels like a life raft. For others, that same teaching might feel like a weight. Acknowledging that someone else is struggling doesn’t diminish your own peace, and feeling overwhelmed doesn’t make the other person’s peace “fake.” It simply honors the vast diversity of the human experience.

What I Wish I Could Have Said

I often think about what I wish I could have expressed to my family during those years of high alert. If I could go back, I would say:

“I respect what this means to you. I see the good it brings to your life. Right now, I’m trying to understand my own experience, but something in me feels overwhelmed, and I don’t fully know why yet. I’m not rejecting you – I’m just trying to breathe.”

I wish I could have framed it not as a judgment of them, but as an honest attempt to be seen.

To Anyone Navigating the “In-Between”

If you’ve ever felt out of sync in a space that others find sacred, please know this: Nothing is wrong with you. And nothing is necessarily “wrong” with them, either.

It may simply mean that your nervous system is asking for attention and care. You can respect others and still listen to yourself. You can honor someone else’s beliefs and still acknowledge your own limits. You can even step back from something that doesn’t feel right for you while holding immense love for those who stay.

Practical Self-Care for the Upcoming Weekend

If your body is signaling discomfort as this weekend approaches – whether it’s tied to General Conference or another event entirely – take a breath. You aren’t alone in that friction.

This weekend, I hope you’ll consider a practice of radical self-care:

• Move your body: Take a walk when things start to feel intense.
• Temperature regulation: Cool your system down with cold water or ice on your face and neck, or drink something very cold to help ground yourself.
• Sensory safety: Create a “safe” space with your favorite blanket or a calming scent to ground your senses.
• Connection: Reach out to a trusted friend who “gets it.”
• Compassion: Use unlimited supplies of self-kindness.

To the loved ones watching someone struggle: Please don’t try to “fix” or shame them – just love them. They likely already know the traditional suggestions; what they need is for you to be a safe harbor. If watching them struggle causes you distress, use the grounding tools above for yourself. Pause, ground yourself in the moment, and perhaps lean into your own faith that they are loved by many, and you aren’t alone in wanting the best for them.

When we learn to understand these physical cues, we unlock something vital. We learn to communicate in a way that honors our own truth – without burning down the relationships we still deeply cherish.

Whether you recognize these feelings in yourself or see someone you love navigating something similar, learning to observe your internal reactions without judgment is a powerful tool for growth. As things change and evolve, remember that your worth is never tied to how you feel, what you believe, or how others respond to the shift.

Regardless of the uncertainty, you are inherently worthy of love and the space you occupy. Be gentle with yourself. I wish you a weekend that brings you peace and satisfaction, regardless of where you land.

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If you are looking for professional therapeutic support and live in Florida, I am Registered Mental Health Counselor Intern with training in Religious Trauma. I would be honored to walk alongside you. (Supervised of Danielle Proch, LMHC MH16044).