I had the chance to experience another world this past weekend, and ever since, my world looks a lot different.

Lately, I feel like i'm drowning in emptiness. Like i've lost a part of me and I consistently feel like i'm on the verge of falling apart for no reason. It's not a surprise to me that I feel empty a lot. Just a few years ago I was married and becoming a mom. I was in school and working with my best friends. I was living 15 mins from my family and saw them a few times a week. I was doing exactly what I was told I should do, and I was unhappy, but I was busy.

A year later I was still at BYU. I was in charge of a divorce support group on campus, I was living by all my friends and making new ones everyday. I was happy, but I was feeling myself start to change and become someone others wouldn't recognize. Yet I was surrounded by familiarity. There's something comforting about that.

But now it's just me again and the familiarity I used to know, no longer brings good feelings. All it brings is stress and anxiety. And suddenly, I'm in uncharted territory.

But slowly, i'm beginning to find things that make me come alive again. My cousin and I were talking about depression last night. How it's like a shadow that never really goes away, but if the shadow didn't exist there would be no reason to fight against it. Without a shadow, we'd have no reason to try.

And i've discovered that one of the most effective ways to fill the emptiness (at least for a moment), is to step out of my reality, and step into someone else's. It turns out when I take a step into another person's world, my shadows stay at the door. They don't follow me there.

So when I had a couple of friends post about a service project in Colorado City and Hildale, UT, benefiting the FLDS community, I knew I would end up going. I had watched a few documentaries on polygamy and Warren Jeffs and his corrupted leadership. It's sickening, learning from victims and hearing what certain members of the FLDS have had to endure.

The more you read stories within the community, it seems there is no end to the horror. The religion has changed significantly since Jeffs took over, including commandments geared toward child labor, kids not able to play with toys, the church claiming ownership of every child that is born within the faith and taking the kids away from their parents and redistributing them to other families. Sex abuse. Priesthood holders taking advantage of other men's wives. And that doesn't even brush the surface.

Most of the community don't know they are victims. They have been brainwashed to believe Jeffs is speaking to them through God. They blame the "evil" of the world for his prison sentence, and pray for his release one day.

But there are some. The "apostates". The ones that want to leave their faith and reclaim their families, fight against the abuse and take their power back. The problem is, the exflds have nowhere to go. Choosing to leave the faith is akin to social suicide, and they have no resources to live on their own. Their religious community has controlled every part of what they know and who they've become. They have to start completely from scratch and a lot of them don't have the ability to do so.

The more I read about it, the more I knew I would end up going to help. I texted a friend I knew would want to go, but because it was so last minute, she couldn't make it work. I was going alone.

I drove through the night. I put adele's new song on repeat, kept the window rolled down and watched the empty, moon lit road. The drive went quicker than I expected.

You guys.

Short creek (Colorado City and Hildale, UT) is a whole different world. It's a homie little town and everything looks the same. As you drive through the roads you see every house is incomplete, and there is a little bit of eeriness to it. Knowing they are forced to view the world a certain way. But there are a lot of beautiful parts as well. There always are.

Over 50 volunteers were there to help. Some of the greatest people you'll ever meet. We spent the whole day renovating a house for refugees who have been forced to leave their living spaces, after being deemed apostates or simply not faithful enough. The goal was that by the end of the weekend, they'd have a place where they could not only survive, but thrive.

I spent the first half of the day helping on the roof, and the second half organizing the hundreds of thousands of donations that were received.

Toothbrushes, hygiene kits, diapers, towels, blankets, shampoo, soap, notebooks and school supplies. It was overwhelming, seeing how generous people had been.

And besides going off no sleep, it was so much fun. The other people I worked with were the best. I haven't laughed that hard in a long, long time.

But as always it was difficult too. Occasionally you'd see the children, in long dresses or pants and long sleeved, button up shirts. They'd stare at us from behind the fence or from their yards. To them, we weren't friends. We were outsiders.

It hurt seeing them. Knowing only a little of what their world is like, but wanting to know more. Their circumstance and background may look different, but they are ours. They are our kids. There is no such thing as other people's children. We are all each other's. And I felt that as I watched them. I felt myself wondering what it would feel like if that was one of my own. It hurt. It hurt a lot.

Later we went to the rally against corruption. That's the only place I got any pics. You can read an article about it here.

A lot of people at the rally were people either living in short creek or from the area. They have roots that go back to the flds faith and to the short creek community. It is their home, and it's devastating to them to see it taken over by malicious leaders. Their commitment to fighting for change was refreshing. It's nice when you meet people you know nothing about, but because you share the same vision, you're instant friends. It was nice seeing their vision. It was nice to step into their world, if only for a moment.

So I went hoping to help change the short creek community, but instead, it changed me. There's still so much to be done there. There's so much help needed. Which is good, because I believe a lot of us need it. A lot of us need to take a step into their reality. A lot of us need to let it broaden our vision and help us love the people in our lives a little better. A lot of us need to let it change our worlds.