It's who I am

For a long time I was not sure if I was strong enough to fight for my rights, my opinions, basically my choices. It would be easier just to follow the path prepared by my parents, something well planned and organized. The dilemma in my case was the fact that I did not like that road, I wanted something better than what society had to offer.

I did not get to chose my family which I am happy about. I would not make a better choice than He has. I am lucky it's not my responsibility to be there for the whole world and make sure everybody gets a destiny/life that will strengthen them. Sometimes people fail to face all the challenges and it is understandable.

I did get to chose my religion though. Being born in a USSR but raised in a free country was an interesting experience. 90s were hard in Ukraine, my parents would describe those years as very tough times with limited access to food and clothes. Everything was changing. I did not remember much, and I guess I should be happy about it. I do remember going to church with my mom and sometimes with my step-grandma. A chapel full of lid candles, huge icons, they were beautiful.

When I was 12 I remember I started asking my mom why did we have to put candles for the dead on the left side and for those who are alive on the right side, why do we have to stand and not sit at church like they show in the movies. My mom did not know the answers because she wasn't taught this in Soviet Union. The list of my question was becoming longer and longer. When I was 13 my older sister left to the US for a year as an exchange student.

She lived in Orem with a lovely family that were mormons. The only thing we knew about Latter-Day Saints was that they were very nice people according to my sister. A year past and I was 14 when she came back. That summer we made chocolate chip cookies for the first time, and my sister had this light coming out of her. She was different. Now I remember she was the one who shared the Gospel with me first, that was the summer we became so close. She gave me the book of Mormon in Russian.

We didn't have a chapel or a branch in that area. We still don't. My sister went to BYU (Brigham Young university) and when I was 17 I moved to Kiev, the capitol of my country. Half a year later I met with missionaries and about 3 months later I was baptized. When I got baptized my mom wasn't excited but she accepted it. My sister though, ironically, did not support my decision. She is still not very accepting but we are young and I hope she gets it some day. Back in Ukraine there were a few young people who had to chose between their family and church. There was a girl Katya, who at age of 18 became homeless. Her mother kicked her out because Katya changed her religion. And these things happen.

Luckily, my situation was better. Some people would say it is not easy to be a good Mormon. I would say the road to perfection is never easy. And yes, I am aware I will die being just a human with a bunch of flaws. When I was born I was perfect, without a sin. So maybe, just maybe, I will leave this world being closer to the child I used to be. All I am trying to do is experience life fixing my own mistakes. All I am shooting for is to be my best-self. And when I die I don't want to have regrets. I have made up my mind and this is who I am.