a mormon memoir part one: indoctrinated before birth

surely my ancestors were watching from the other side of the veil and rejoiced as I dodged satan’s temptations with ease.

Out of all the billions of lives my spirit could have lived, Heavenly Father chose me to be born in the covenant. In other words, I was born Mormon. Before my birth into a physical body, I lived blissfully with my spirit brothers and sisters in the premortal realm. Billions of them. Although we were happy, we wanted to progress. So, our Heavenly Father came up with a plan: Earth life. He told us that we would have the opportunity to gain a physical body and live on the beautiful planet he’d created for us. In this physical body we would be separated from the knowledge of our current existence by the veil of mortality and would have to prove our innate worthiness by making correct choices. If we lived with faith, got baptized, received the gift of the Holy Ghost, repented of our sins, married in the temple, and endured to the end we could become like God himself and live in the Celestial Kingdom. 

In the Celestial Kingdom we would have the same perfect, celestial bodies as our heavenly parents and live happily with our earthly family forever. We would be sealed to our eternal sweetheart and together we would get to procreate our own spirit children! And create our own planets! I couldn’t imagine anything happier. But it was a big risk. What if, once separated by the veil, we chose wickedness? Heavenly Father warned us we’d have to live for eternity in the lesser kingdoms of glory: the Terrestrial or Telestial Kingdoms. It wouldn’t be torturous, but it would be shameful and we’d be separated from our loved ones. Forever second class.  

 Heavenly Father went on to explain that even the most righteous among us would stumble in sin, for that was the very nature of the natural man. But how could we return to His presence after we’d soiled our soul in sin? An atonement must be made. One of us would have to bear the consequences of our sins, the greatest sacrifice. Our brother Satan stepped up to the plate, “Behold, here am I, send me, I will be thy son, and I will redeem all mankind, that one soul shall not be lost, and surely I will do it; wherefore give me thine honor” (Moses 4: 1) But our brother Jesus had a different plan. “Father, thy will be done, and the glory be thine forever” (Moses 4:2).

And so we debated. Satan wanted to force us to choose the right while Jesus wanted us to authentically choose righteousness for ourselves. He argued that agency was our divine right. Satan wanted to be worshiped forever while Jesus wanted the glory to go to The Father. Jesus humbly asked our father to send him to suffer the weight of our collective sins, the pain of which would be much sorer than that of Satan’s plan. Heavenly Father reminded our beloved eldest brother that the pain would be excruciating. Unspeakable. But Jesus loved us all so much, he insisted on it. We wept. We warred. And then we voted. 

Two thirds of us voted for Jesus’ plan. Victory! I imagine the celebration must have been a rager, non-physical Martinelli’s flowing and singing under the stars. I imagined how we must have dreamed together. We would have a body! And agency! And a chance at eternal life in the Celestial Kingdom! It sure felt good to be on the winning team.

Those who voted for Satan’s plan were cast out of our presence, dreams of earth life forever unfulfilled. They would not receive bodies. In their jealousy and injury they swore to us they’d dedicate their entire existence to tempting us to stray. Life would be even more challenging on the other side of the veil with Satan’s army, the adversary, in full force. Heavenly Father gave us a prescient warning. He showed each of us the specific trials we’d have to endure during our time on the other side of the veil. 

I knew every trial and every temptation and I still decided to come to earth in the wickedness of the latter days, just before the second coming of Jesus Christ. I was brave, yes, but I chose this life because I believed in Jesus’ atoning sacrifice. A sacrifice that not only covered my sins but also the emotional and spiritual pains of my trials. Jesus would feel every dark and terrible feeling I’d ever have to endure and be my eternal empathizer. He would walk hand-in-hand with me my whole life, even if I couldn’t see Him. His love would be the purest, deepest love I’d ever know.

Of course, my eternal salvation wasn’t guaranteed just because of the atonement. Though I had infinite access to his atonement it was pertinent that I didn’t sin recklessly. Jesus would suffer in agony for every single one of my sins and how could I let my redeemer suffer excruciating pain because of my own foolishness or carelessness? I couldn’t bear it. I’d try to be as close to perfect as I could. 

But equally as important: I was to live in the manner of happiness. Joyful familial relationships, church service, spreading the gospel to those less fortunate, marriage, and most importantly: bringing more spirit children into a righteous home. I promised my father I would come back to Him.

And with that, I was born. Soul memory wiped clean, a blank slate ready to learn and prove herself. My lineage was privileged, a granddaughter of Mormon pioneers. The first child to my newlywed parents eager to serve Heavenly Father in their new role as earthy parents. Destined to be brought up in truth and righteousness. I couldn’t believe my luck! 

During my early developmental years as I began to understand the passage of time and the sheer number of humans who existed now and long before me, I was awestruck by the innumerable lives who had never known the gospel during their time on this side of the veil. I knew I must be an extremely special spirit for Heavenly Father to entrust me with the truth. I was a part of the chosen generation and with this privilege came great responsibility. It was critical for me to keep my covenants and lead by example. If I faltered, others might falter in my wake. I was determined to make Heavenly Father proud of me.

Sometimes my human brain struggled to grasp the wisdom of His plan. In my limited view, I couldn’t understand why a loving Heavenly Father created a plan that isolated so many of His children from the happiness of the gospel. Mormons accounted for less than 1% of the current population, and even that number was our highest peak yet. If my life choices were so critical in determining my status in the next life, how fair was it that most of my spirit brothers and sisters were not given the same opportunities to know the truth? And how many people had existed who’d never even heard of the gospel? Sure, we could perform saving ordinances on behalf of these people once they were dead. I learned that temple work was how we could redeem those who were less privileged. Once we performed these saving ordinances for the dead, these souls were free to accept or decline these ordinances. But what exactly was the point of their lives if they had to wait until after death to accept the gospel? I thought about this often. 

How complicated. I was grateful for Heavenly Father’s esoteric wisdom. My little earthly brain couldn’t possibly understand the intricacies of His perfect plan. His ways were higher than mine and besides, I needed to stay focused on my earthly objective. 

All around me, adults modeled how to focus on the positive. We lived in the manner of happiness. I learned that having agency also meant that happiness is a choice. I learned that contention is of the devil and that I could be a peacemaker by inviting The Spirit into the home through my righteous choices. There were so many tools at my disposal, like church songs, scriptures, and prayer to help me choose happiness when I felt bad feelings. I used them often.

I learned about eternal families. I learned that only through the commitment of each family member to keep their covenants could we all be together in the next life. We’d sing this hymn together often: 

I have a family here on earth.

They are so good to me.

I want to share my life with them through all eternity.

Families can be together forever

Through Heavenly Father’s plan.

I always want to be with my own family,

And the Lord has shown me how I can.

The Lord has shown me how I can.

While I am in my early years,

I’ll prepare most carefully,

So I can marry in God’s temple for eternity.

At 8 years old I reached the age of accountability, which meant I would now be held accountable for my sins. I made the choice to be baptized into the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. I passed a worthiness interview with my bishop, the man who was called by God to lead my local congregation. He asked me questions like:

Do you pay your tithing? Yes, I pay 10% of my lemonade stand profits and tooth fairy money to the church.

Do you keep the word of wisdom? Yes, I do not drink coffee, tea, or alcohol and I don’t use tobacco or drugs. 

Do you keep the law of chastity? Yes, but I don’t really know what that means. 

Do you believe that the Church and gospel of Jesus Christ have been restored through the Prophet Joseph Smith? Yes. I’ve watched the movie about Joseph Smith many times and my granny always cries when she talks about him. I am so grateful for him.

Do you believe that President Hinkley is a prophet of God? Yes, I sustain President Hinkley as today’s prophet of the church.

Everyone was so proud of me for my worthiness and decision to be baptized. Even though I had to share my baptism day with all the other kids who turned 8 in July, it felt so special to have all of my extended family watch me as my dad baptized me. The quiet reverence in the room was so intimate and I felt loved. My mom sewed me a beautiful white dress and planned a fun after party for my special day. I got lots of presents and everyone in my whole life came to my house to celebrate my good decision. And there were cupcakes!

At 12 years old I passed another worthiness interview and obtained a temple recommend. This identification card with a barcode would allow me access to the basement of any Mormon temple in the world. I’d dress in a white jumpsuit and enter the baptismal font where a priesthood holder would place his hands on my back and baptize me over and over again, one baptism right after the other. Spirits rejoiced as I freed them from spirit prison one by one! The work felt honorable and important and I went often.

I loved attending weekly youth activities and felt close to the girls in my ward, my local congregation. My testimony blossomed as I faithfully kept the commandments and received positive feedback from my community. “Katrina is such a good example,” my parents would brag about me. I knew it too. 

The Book of Mormon was, of course, my favorite book. My family read the scriptures together every night and I adopted a daily personal habit as well. The prophet promised us that daily scripture reading would protect us against the adversary and I always followed the prophet. The familiar lull of the passages felt like home. I never received a burning of the bosom, a promised spiritual witness of the veracity of the Book of Mormon, but I didn’t need one. I was blessed to already know.

I did, however, experience this burning of the bosom at girls camp every summer. Dozens of teenage girls and our Young Women leaders would unplug from technology and spend a week in the beautiful Utah mountains. We’d make up funny skits about gospel topics, play games, do service projects, sing hymns and silly songs about flirting and marriage, attend inspiring morning devotionals, and listen to special guest speakers: priesthood holders. In Mormonism, worthy men hold the priesthood (the power of God) and women hold the power of procreation. 

At the end of the week we’d sit around the campfire feeling the Holy Ghost’s presence as if He were right there with us. We’d tearfully and vulnerably share our most intimate feelings and testify to each other of the truthfulness of the restored gospel we’d come to understand because of the love and admiration we’d grown for each other that week. We’d go home spiritually recharged and ready to exemplify the spirit of truth and righteousness to the world. Girls camp was always the best week of the year. 

I attended public school but my favorite class was seminary. Sure, my AP Social Studies classes fascinated me and piqued my curiosity about the world, but I knew the only place I could receive real answers was in seminary. During my release period, I’d walk over to the seminary building just off campus and learn the deeper truths of the gospel. I carried my marked up scriptures to and from school so that I could keep notes in the margins about what I had learned. My seminary teachers were faithful men I revered as gatekeepers of spiritual wisdom. 

I had a group of friends who were faithful and made righteous choices. We held each other accountable for dressing modestly and not tempting boys. We’d lay under the stars on the weekends and talk about the mysteries of Heavenly Father’s plan. 

Of course, we were worldly too. We loved Pinterest and would often spend our Friday nights making mood boards of glamorized motherhood and homemaking. Our futures as mothers and wives were going to be so vibrantly beautiful! We were into normal teenage girl things too. During our Titanic obsession we’d watch the movie every weekend and pause on Leonardo DiCaprio’s beautiful face hoping our future husbands would look like him. Of course, we always skipped over the bad parts of the film. Even though the film contained a sex scene and partial nudity we indulged in the parts around it. We were nuanced like that. 

I fantasized constantly about marriage. What would my wedding dress look like? What would my wedding colors be? What type of flowers would I choose for my bouquet? Where would we honeymoon? How long would we wait to have kids? What would I name them? How many were we going to have? What was my husband going to look like? Where would he have served his mission? What job would he have to provide for us? Sometimes I’d even think about what sex would be like. But not too much, I needed to save those feelings for my wedding night. Being a teenager was filled with longing for the future. I craved independence and adulthood and the love of an eternal companion. I wouldn’t have to feel so alone anymore.

Like a good Mormon girl, I journaled consistently and reflected on the influence of the Holy Ghost in my life. What choices was He prompting me to make? Which thoughts were coming from Him and which were coming from me? Could these thoughts be coming from Satan? What choices had I made that might allow the influence of Satan into my heart? I held myself to strong moral standards and reflected on the ways I had offended the spirit. I examined the role of pride in my life and committed to remaining humble and accountable for my actions. When I felt negative feelings I’d remind myself of my eternal purpose, my divine nature. I expressed gratitude for the blessings of the gospel in my life. “A testimony comes in the bearing of it” was a prophetic teaching that meant a lot to me. I bore my testimony frequently both in the privacy of my journal and publicly in church and seminary. I felt a great responsibility to be an example.

I fit the perfect Mormon girl archetype (white, thin, neurotypical, feminine, sweet), so belonging came automatically. I received consistent validation for the good choices I made. I was loved and admired and I lived with integrity. It felt so good and my future felt so bright. 

At 16 years old I went through another series of worthiness interviews to receive my patriarchal blessing, a once-in-a-lifetime blessing in which Heavenly Father would speak to me through a Patriarch, a special man whose role is essentially that of an oracle.  This blessing would have specific guidance about my unique life on earth. It would be transcribed by his wife and I’d keep my copy forever, entrusting only my family and future husband to read it. Receiving my patriarchal blessing would be one of the most special moments of my life. 

In the warm, musty basement of the Patriarch's home, the elderly gentleman laid his hands on my head and I listened eagerly. The blessing went like this: I was blessed with good parents who raised me in truth and righteousness. I was blessed with a strong testimony of Joseph Smith and his restoration of the fullness of the gospel. I was blessed with a testimony of the Book of Mormon. I was blessed to sustain the current leaders of the church, the prophet and his 12 apostles, as seers and revelators. I was blessed with a deep appreciation for the atonement of Jesus Christ and an enduring love for my Savior. I was promised that one day I’d kneel across the altar in the temple and be sealed to a worthy priesthood holder. I was told that my education would support him in his career as I nurtured our children in the home. I learned I was attractive to the opposite sex and that my testimony and sweet spirit would uplift those who wavered. I learned that all of these blessings were contingent upon my keeping of the Lord’s commandments. And that if I was true and faithful all my life I’d enter Heavenly Father’s presence again. 

The blessing ended as quickly as it began and I was left in underwhelm. I had so badly wanted to hear about my divine nature. Who was I before I came to Earth? What latent talents had I yet to discover? What did Heavenly Father need me to do to prepare the earth for Christ’s second coming? I felt so unspecial. But I looked up at my beaming parents and I reminded myself that the deeper truths of my blessing would be revealed to me as I studied it throughout the rest of my life. After all, a patriarchal blessing takes a lifetime to appreciate. And hey, God thinks I’m pretty!

As I prepared to go to college, I met with the bishop for another worthiness interview to update my temple recommend. He asked me what I wanted to study and I confidently told him I’d be pursuing a degree in business. I was president of the FBLA club (Future Business Leaders of America) at my school and had a history of creative side hustles. I liked making things happen. The bishop smiled excitedly when I told him of my plan. “That’s excellent!” he told me. “Because running a household is like running a business. You’ll need to use finance, human resources, and management skills as a wife and mother.” Oh, right.

I was ambitious and excited about my future, but his fatherly redirection reminded me of my eternal purpose. It was like what my high school counselor, a faithful Mormon man, had advised me during a career planning session. He showed me a research study that found higher rates of marital satisfaction when the wife held a bachelor’s degree. He explained that this was because husbands were less likely to get bored of their wives if they were educated. Interestingly, the more education the wife received after a bachelor’s degree, the lower the marital satisfaction. He explained that husbands don’t like to feel outwitted by their wives. That made sense to me. 

Between the redirection from these men and an entire childhood of preparing for my eternal purpose as a wife and mother, I realized it didn’t really matter what I studied anyway because it’s not like I’d use my degree in the workforce unless my husband tragically died and I’d have to support our children. I figured I’d get my general ed requirements over with and then just choose a degree that sounded fun and interesting. 

And so my childhood ended. Having been brought up in the ways of truth and righteousness, I was eager to press forward with zeal. The first two saving ordinances had been checked off my Eternal Salvation checklist: baptism and receiving the gift of the Holy Ghost. It was my responsibility to use my agency wisely in order to be worthy of the next saving ordinances: the initiatory, the endowment, and a temple marriage to a worthy priesthood holder. After that, motherhood and enduring to the end would perfect my soul, readying me to enter Heavenly Father’s presence again.

My immense privilege had set me up for a lifetime of success. Surely my ancestors were watching from the other side of the veil and rejoiced as I dodged Satan’s temptations with ease and held tightly to the word of God. I stepped out of my perfect childhood and into adulthood boldly, knowing who I was and what I wanted out of life. Joy was my birthright and I intended on claiming it.