A friend recently shared a perspective with me that left me unsettled. He said, “It’s better to be for something than against something.” His example was the abortion debate, arguing that it’s better to be pro-life rather than anti-abortion. At first glance, this seems like a reasonable and even optimistic approach to life. However, the more I thought about it, the more I wondered—could this be a thought-stopping technique? Thought-stopping techniques are often used in high-demand groups or ideological frameworks to discourage critical thinking and deeper exploration of complex issues. This phrase subtly implies that expressing concerns or criticisms—no matter how valid—is inherently negative or unproductive. It shifts the focus away from the content of the concerns and instead places judgment on the tone or perceived negativity, which can discourage people from critically examining systems, institutions, or ideologies that may need scrutiny—especially in the context of discussing my faith transition.

This phrase immediately reminded me of the common sentiment often directed at those who leave the LDS Church: “They can leave the Church, but they can’t leave it alone.” This accusation is particularly painful for those of us who have left, not out of spite or rebellion, but because we value honesty. Deconstructing a high-demand religion is incredibly challenging. It takes deep reflection, courage, and often immense personal loss. For many of us, talking about it is not about being “anti-Mormon”—it’s about being pro-truth and pro-transparency.

I continue to talk about Mormonism because I know others are also struggling, feeling isolated, questioning, and searching for clarity. I talk about it because, when I was in the thick of my faith transition, I needed to hear from others who had walked this road before me. I needed to know I wasn’t alone.

The problem isn’t that I’m against something—it’s that my friend perceives my pursuit of truth as an attack on his beliefs. I don’t believe I have ever been anti or negative in my approach to expressing my beliefs and my sorrow. But for someone else to feel threatened by my lived experience seems harsh—especially when the church I once cherished taught me to speak up, share my beliefs, and talk about truth. But advocating for truth and transparency isn’t inherently anti-anything. It’s about ensuring people have the full picture, the ability to ask hard questions, and the freedom to make informed decisions without fear or coercion.

In reality, we should ask ourselves: Why is discussing concerns, inconsistencies, and painful experiences seen as being “against” something rather than being for growth, healing, and honesty? If something is true, shouldn’t it stand up to scrutiny? If something is good, shouldn’t it welcome transparency?

Being “for” something doesn’t mean staying silent when harm exists. Dismissing discussions about concerns as mere negativity is a way to avoid addressing uncomfortable truths. Those who accuse others of being negative for simply speaking about their experiences might not realize how much pain and effort it takes to process a faith transition. Expressing sorrow, questioning inconsistencies, and advocating for transparency are not acts of destruction—they are acts of courage. Instead of asking why we continue to speak, perhaps the real question should be: Why does our speaking make others so uncomfortable? Being pro-truth, pro-integrity, and pro-transparency means having the courage to engage in difficult conversations, even when they make others uncomfortable. Truth doesn’t need protection from scrutiny—it thrives in the light. To silence discussion in the name of being “for” something is to deny the very foundation of integrity. The pursuit of truth is not about destruction; it’s about illumination, clarity, and ensuring that people have the knowledge and agency to choose their own path.