Paul’s conversion has always struck me in a deeply personal way. His story of going from being a hardcore, zealous defender of Judaism to following Jesus feels oddly familiar because, in many ways, it mirrors my own journey out of Mormonism.

Paul talks about how deeply devoted he was to his faith, how he was “advancing in Judaism beyond many” and was “extremely zealous” for the traditions he was raised in (Galatians 1:13-14).

That was me with Mormonism. I was all in. It shaped my entire worldview. I genuinely believed I was serving God in the best way possible.

So, when I think about Paul’s conversion—when everything he thought he knew was flipped upside down—I get it. Because leaving behind a faith that once defined your entire identity? That’s a radical shift. It’s scary. It’s disorienting. And, honestly, it can be heartbreaking.

For me, walking away from Mormonism wasn’t something I did on a whim. It took months—actually, closer to a year—of deep study, prayer, and a lot of internal wrestling. I dove into the Bible, especially the New Testament, and noticed something unsettling: the Jesus I was reading about didn’t match the Jesus I had been taught to follow. And that realization shook me.

I felt a lot like Paul must have—realizing that all my devotion and passion had been pointed in the wrong direction. It was both terrifying and freeing.

Leaving Mormonism wasn’t just about disagreeing with certain teachings or doctrines. It was about letting go of the entire framework that had defined my life. No temple rituals, priesthood authority, or constant pressure to perform—just Him.

Paul’s words in Philippians 3:7-8 sum up exactly how I felt during that season:

Everything I thought was a “gain”—all my devotion and certainty—suddenly felt like nothing compared to the simplicity and beauty of knowing Jesus.

I won’t sugarcoat it—this journey hasn’t been easy. Walking away from a faith that once defined me came with a lot of challenges. There have been feelings of loneliness, doubts, awkward conversations, and plenty of “Why can’t you just leave well enough alone?” moments from others. But there has also been peace—real, deep, freeing peace.

And here’s the thing—I’ve never really had the chance to talk openly about what led me to leave the Mormon church. Sure, I’ve had a few conversations here and there. Still, I haven’t fully shared the process—the months of study, the years spent wondering if I had made the right decision, the hard questions, the heartbreak, and ultimately, the hope I’ve found on the other side.

I want to finally tell my story—on my own terms. I want to dive into the details, doubts, discoveries, and everything in between. I do not want to bash anyone or stir up drama. Still, I want to be honest about what it’s like to walk away from something that once felt like your entire world and find something even better on the other side.

Paul’s story gives me hope that God can take even the most passionate, misdirected devotion and reshape it for good. It reminds me that God isn’t afraid of our questions, doubts, or messy journeys. He meets us right where we are—even when we’re kicking and screaming on our own personal Damascus roads.

“If we have the truth, it cannot be harmed by investigation. If we have not the truth, it ought to be harmed.”

LDS President J. Reuben Clark

So, know you’re not alone if you’re in that space—questioning, doubting, or feeling stuck between two worlds. God isn’t afraid of your questions. He’s right there with you, offering something far greater than certainty—He’s offering Himself.