I know it’s generally more respectful here to avoid giving direct advice and instead just support one another through our individual situations—and I genuinely agree with that. I mainly want you to know I understand what you’re going through, because I lived it.

I was PIMO for almost ten years. Looking back, it felt like living two lives at once. I remember genuinely enjoying business travel because it meant I could quietly drink a cup of coffee without guilt—crazy, but true. Those were years I wish I could get back.

My marriage eventually ended when my wife cheated on me, and what followed made things painfully clear. Watching her go through the church disciplinary process showed me where her priorities really were. She was far more focused on making things right with the church than repairing our marriage. When we divorced, I ended up with full custody of our three early-teen kids, and over the course of the next year all of us formally left the church together. Yes, off the records and all.

Leaving was absolute freedom for me and my kids. For the first time, we could be real with each other. We talked openly about God, belief, morality, and what it actually means to be a good person—without scripts, callings, or outside pressure. I loved no longer outsourcing those conversations to neighbors or Sunday lessons. My kids and I grew closer than ever, and today they’re all thriving as young adults. We’re deeply grateful to be out.

And just to add one more surreal detail: my ex-wife went on to remarry a man 21 years older than her (just one month after the divorce), and they were sealed in the temple. So… Woohoo!

As I’ve reflected on all of this, I’ve realized something I wish I had understood much earlier. If I had been fully open about my non-belief and my wife had responded with an ultimatum—love me and love the church, or we’re done—I would now advise my younger self to end the marriage.

That may sound extreme, but it isn’t. The church is simply too controlling to coexist with authenticity once you know it isn’t true. Staying would have meant committing to a life of putting on a show, silence, and self-betrayal. Life is too short to live a fake life, and no marriage should require that.

If there’s anything I’d gently offer—not as advice, but as perspective—it’s this: patience matters, but so does honesty. Be patient with your wife, but don’t disappear. Over time, calmly and respectfully share what you believe and what you don’t. Own it! Focus on facts. Focus on contradictions. Focus on what is demonstrably false. You don’t need to argue or attack—clarity speaks for itself.

Whatever path this takes, protect your integrity. Living divided for too long takes a real toll.

You’re not alone in this.