The realization that the true threat to women’s well-being doesn’t only come from blatant sexism and misogyny came to me gradually. My feminism came alive at obvious forms of hate and discrimination against women. But things became trickier when I started to question and voice concerns over more subtle, socially ingrained, and “humorous” types of sexism.

As I started to listen to my own intuition and speak up about the “little things,” the pushback felt disproportionate, but somewhat convincing. Was I simply taking things too seriously? Did I just ruin everything by thinking about it too much? Didn’t my overreaction actually prove some of the stereotypes about women?

Plus, my entire upbringing was steeped in defined, God-given gender roles. My beautiful, safe, loving childhood with happily married parents, modesty, security, and faith were all built on a foundation of patriarchy. Man’s ways are not God’s ways (or maybe it’s women’s ways aren’t Gods ways, really?) What looks or sounds (or even feels) like inequality, sexism, or discrimination is different when viewed through a spiritual lens. (Right?)

True to my passionate nature, I fought against my frustration with the inequalities and poor treatment of women, especially what could be perceived as so within the Mormon religion, by becoming a fervent advocate for benevolent patriarchy. How else could I preserve my faith and commit to it wholeheartedly?

I mastered all of the arguments until I convinced myself enough to articulate the merits of benevolent patriarchy: Women don’t hold less power or authority than men; they simply have different spheres of influence. Women are more naturally spiritual, so they don’t need the same spiritual experiences that much-more naturally flawed men require; thus men hold all positions of authority to gain that experience. Women can give birth and nurture children, a special, divine gift denied to men, so this must be protected and prioritized by men. (And childless women can be surrogate “mothers” to all. Plus, men do get to be fathers and hold the priesthood, but it’s not the same as motherhood.) Marriage means partnership, but with the man at the head, but not in front. He technically has authority over you, but it’s spiritual authority, so it’s okay. (I guess.)

Plus, you’re equal in the Priesthood in the temple, even though men still hold all of the titles, decision-making power, authority, and ultimate leadership. You’ll tell him your new name, but he’ll keep his for now. It’s equality, but not in the way “the world”-or the dictionary-define it.

You know how they say that bearing your testimony helps you to gain it? I’m pretty sure I did this with benevolent patriarchy until my voice strained with the bearing. Yet, even this spiritual trick of the trade could not prevent me from seeing the cracks, strains, and glaring rips in the seams of my arguments. Unfortunately (or fortunately), I’d been taught my worth and encouraged to seek wisdom. When I asked God if there was something better, if it was okay to seek and demand something beyond benevolent patriarchy, I heard a resounding “Yes!”

Once you begin to see the illusion of benevolent patriarchy, you can’t un-see it. It’s as if I became Dorothy glimpsing the little man behind the curtain, pretending to be The Great Oz of Benevolent Patriarchy. Once I glimpsed bits of him peeking out from behind those gilded curtains, the entire production revealed itself to be the same harmful system oppressing women to benefit men as plain old patriarchy and sexism. Perhaps it’s worse, in some ways, though; a betrayal of sorts, because benevolent patriarchy does this all while maintaining an outward veneer of protecting and honoring women.

So many things that I never noticed before are significant and even dangerous now. Yes, dangerous. Benevolent patriarchy is built on a system of small, constant, little things that draw you in and slowly woo you. Taken alone, they feel like no big deal. Critique them individually and you’ll likely seem petty. Mention them to someone who regularly practices them and they will probably shrug in dismay at your conclusions. But take them together and recognize how they subtly, softly, and calmly weave the authority and dominance of men over women in every aspect of religious and everyday life, and it’s devastating.

Woven into every practice, each Sunday, each FHE, each meeting, each family practice, and every religious act, is a constant reminder of the authority and dominance of men. You can offer nice talks about the value and importance of women as many times as you want, but they are an insignificant drop in the bucket compared to the constant, consistent ingrained practices within benevolent patriarchy that uphold and emphasize men as essential, important pillars of wisdom, strength, spiritual authority, safety, security, and leadership, with women as their followers and supporters.

This is done, conveniently, all while reminding you that it’s not for man’s own gain. It’s so persuasive, I think many men practicing it truly believe it’s the best thing for women and a great sacrifice on their own part. Some of these same men embrace a different type of equality in their work life and even stretch it into many aspects of their home lives, but reserve a special place for benevolent patriarchy in their spiritual lives because they’ve been made to fear the alternatives. What could “the natural man” be without priesthood and patriarchy to contain and mold him into his best self?

Some people argue that this is the best we can get in this fallen world, but I’m not particularly interested in worshipping a God who would diminish one sex to build up another. Or even a God who would allow men to say, “This is the best we can do. It’s better than the dudes not worshipping God at all” and respond, “That makes sense. Who could expect more? Also, make sure the priesthood is clearly the most important, awesome thing ever, but also refer to it as moving and setting up chairs most of the time, so the ladies won’t feel bad.”

When I experience benevolent patriarchy, it reminds of the old saying, “Don’t pee on my leg and tell me it’s raining.” Except, in this case, they’re peeing on my leg, telling me it’s raining, then holding up an umbrella and telling me it’s a special umbrella only they can hold. The umbrella comes with all kinds of conditions and I’m not allowed to hold it myself, plus it’s actually full of holes that let the pee in. Meanwhile, I’m soaking wet and the men holding the umbrella keep insisting that I declare how grateful I am to be dry.