Love And Sects IRL

Devin & Amanda's story, pt.1: Meet-cute to jailbreakHi, my name is Devin Sunde. I created a webcomic called Love & Sects. The story is inspired by the time that I, as a Mormon teen, had a fraught pseudo-relationship with a Jehovah’s Witness girl.But, that’s not the end of my story.I have another tale of religion becoming a wedge in the middle of a romance, and, like the Mormon spirit world, it comes in two parts. This is part one:I met Amanda while I was still reeling from my JW-girl encounter. I was 18. All my male peers were leaving for proselytizing missions far away. It was the last year I could justify going to The Church’s youth activities, and all of it was colored with the melancholy of knowing I was to serve a mission myself, soon.So, I was not looking for any entanglements when, at Youth Conference, a sweet-looking blonde asked me to sit at her lunch table. I was flattered, and obliged. There was a dance the next night, and I decided to ask that same blonde onto the dance floor. Amanda was three years my junior, so I decided to use my years‘ experience of attending these events to show her a good time. I pulled out all the stops, using flowery language, and taking her hand to escort her back to her friends. I learned that she was a recent convert to the church; having joined, in part, to please her friends. When the conference was over, I wished her well, and moved on, half-forgetting the girl. Little did I know she was smitten.Months later, right around my nineteenth birthday, Amanda sent me a friend request on MySpace. Soon, she asked if I would be her date to a spaghetti dinner the girls in her ward were responsible for. It was cute, and I accepted. When I finally got there (had to take a detour, and arrived very late), we had a charmingly awkward time together. I saw her again the next night when I crashed a church dance, ostensibly for a video series I was making, but really because I wasn’t ready for what I was expected to do next in my life.Neither of my older siblings had served missions. My younger sister wasn’t expected to. All of the family’s evangelical pride rested on me. I thought I was excited to go, but I hadn’t put in my paperwork. I hadn’t finished the correspondence course I needed to get a high school diploma. I distracted myself with projects. Amanda was the first real thing I’d had to look forward to in a while.So, we started talking to each other, a lot. In the days where “minutes” were still a thing on phones, we ended up running up my parents’ cellular bill. I was already planned to be Amanda’s junior prom date when I finally admitted, via AIM, that I “liked” her.“Are we a ‘we’ now?” she asked.“I think so”At nineteen, I had my first girlfriend and my first kiss. Things were good.Amanda took me on a 10-day trip to visit her extended family. My parents didn’t raise a fuss because they were assured we wouldn’t get up to any funny business, and I honestly thought we wouldn’t. But we were very much in love, and we were in such cramped quarters...We were good together. It was natural. I got this glimpse of what it would be like to share a home with Amanda, and I desperately wanted to. Standard Mormon protocol, however, demanded something else.I told my bishop that Amanda and I had flouted some of the chastity rules, and asked Amanda to tell hers, but my programming only held so much sway. We kept having glorious sexy times, and Part of me kept wallowing in prudish guilt; “Oh, wretched man that I am,” and all that.At one point, Amanda asked me, point-blank, to give up on serving a mission; to stay, get a job, and start a life with her. I’m ashamed to admit I couldn’t commit to that. Not yet, anyway.Everything changed when my mother eavesdropped on an early-morning telephone conversation about what Amanda and I did after sneaking off for a walk the last time she came to visit. I didn’t know until that evening. My mother sat me down, and confiscated my phone. At first, she claimed it was because of the bill, but she soon admitted to listening in. I was mortified, but not actually humbled. I explained that Amanda and I were already working on it with our bishops, but that wasn’t good enough for my mother.My phone was taken, so I figured out how to voice-chat. My internet access was taken, so I bypassed the WiFi with a cable out my window. My computer was taken, so I swapped out the confiscated phone with a decoy. If I wanted to keep a journal or receive letters, I had to keep them on my person at all times. If I took a shower, I might find my locking briefcase had been busted open with a hammer. When all other options were exhausted, I started walking five miles to and from the public library.I made certain that my family knew I would no longer be serving a mission, that their abuses and oppressions no longer had any godly end. They no longer sought a change in me, it was all for retribution, especially against Amanda. They tried again and again make me denounce her. They suggested that I join the Army. Finally, I knew I needed to make a break for it.The one productive thing I was allowed to do in that 5-month period was getting my GED. The very next day, Amanda’s father showed up to move me out. My family had invited three pairs of missionaries over for ice cream. Everyone was silent as I made three or four trips between my room and the car.Amanda had arranged for a family in her town to take me in for a few months while I got established. They were hard times, moving to a small, poor, WV town just as the financial crisis was beginning. But I was free. I had fought hard, and had the love of my life by my side.Was all this enough to convince me to leave the church? Actually, no. That will be covered in part two.