My impression is that a bunch of the recent changes are ones I wholeheartedly am onboard with, and I love that they're happening. I also ache for those who were scolded for feeling the new way while the old one was still viewed as unchanging, and it makes me worry that as-yet-unchanged issues that are even closer to my heart will be reinforced in exactly the interpretations I fear most--I fear my conscience is misaligned with the church (and with truth, if the church is right, which more and more is the expect-what-you-dread trope). And at the same time, I also get a horrible little self-satisfied jaded demon on my shoulder who says the church is giving in too much to the pressures of society and truth should never change and should always be unpopular. (That last one is like believing the strangers who say nasty things about you and thinking your friends are lying you to make you feel better. If you go through it logically, you realize your friends probably have better context and deeper understanding -- you don't really think the thing that doesn't sit right, but man oh man does humanity love to feel uncomfortable at the expense of accuracy. I don't know that that made sense, but it's the best I can do now. Actually, both those things are really two sides of the same horrible coin.)
But for me personally, I was scolded for a lot of those things, or listened to members of my congregations getting all self-righteous about those things and how awful the people who struggle with them are, because they didn't realize they were issues where the church's stance didn't sit right with me or they didn't know that they were failings (or "failings") that I have & hide. Church has gone from mostly uplifting and good for me (in my childhood and teens with my limited experience and few opportunities to mess up), to mostly fine and occasionally great (most of my time at BYU), to mostly painful and occasionally fine and rarely good (in the years soon after BYU), to so painful that not only church hours, but also the hours and days that surround church are painful because of the anticipation or my obsession about the worst bits afterward (in the past yearish). [P.P.P.S -- another way of putting this is that the church helped me form my boundaries of "Us" and "Them," and then as time went on I realized that I am a "Them," not an "Us" according to those boundaries, and what's more, I have spent literal decades trying to become "Us" and failing at it repeatedly. I want to be a member of an all-inclusive "Us," but feeling like an imposter, even an openly-admitted imposter, was/is hurting me.]
Please recognize, readers all, that I know that my mental and emotional pain with the church is not often (or even usually, probably) based on the actual events of real-life church sessions. My brain has created an acid-filled moat with hidden stone spikes around the culture around the hedge around the law, which is probably a simplification of the actual principles, anyway. I know that, logically. But knowing my symptoms are illogical doesn't make those symptoms vanish, and it was getting to the point where I was starting to worry about my own safety if I kept putting myself in that position by attending.
So while I am cautiously optimistic about the general trend of church and church-adjacent changes, I don't see them as something I'm really part of anymore, and I've got cognitive dissonance when my obviously-overgeneralized picture of the average faithful member says they embrace these new revelations (or "revelations") and were always ready to do so, when it's that same fictional member who dug the acid-moat directly under my doctrinal house. Yayyy, mixed metaphors.
P.S. While some members and possibly past me would think my current ... gosh, faith crisis, I guess, though I have to talk down my inner snob who doesn't want to participate in any kind of trendy group or phrase ... is a result of mixing with members who acknowledge their own doubts and going to therapy, I see those things more as things that helped me find my true beliefs (like that faith -- as in hope for things not known but true -- is natural and can co-exist with doubt, and that any just -- as in fair -- gods would love their children and want to see them whole and happy and healthy and helping each other) and helped me see that I was tying myself into unhealthy knots by beating myself up for falling short of perfection and prioritizing rules that I didn't actually really believe matter myself (like coffee-drinking and length of sleeves, etc). Both helped me love myself and value my own well-being in the way that, on my truest and most balanced days, I believe God would want for me. In other words, some church members want all church members to wear blinders all along so they're not distracted by confusing/nonessential nuance and truth, and I've come to want those blinders off earlier and more culturally-endorsed early exploration of nuance, so it's not overwhelming and damaging when members realize they've been building their personal foundations on lies or half-truths.
P.P.S. And then I remind myself of lessons that I myself teach my English classes (because I think in metaphors and microcosms), and I remember how I tell my students that the "put a comma where you would pause while speaking" rule is a lie, which outrages them, but then I point out that they couldn't have understood the 11 more-accurate rules we learned without first learning parts of speech and types of clauses and sentence constructions and more, and "commas at pauses" is about as accurate as a kid in elementary school can understand! It improves their usage even if it causes them to develop errors too. Which is guess is the "milk before meat" principle, right? And so then I chase my tail in logical figures eight, and I can't escape because I'm obsessive (but not usually compulsive, whee!), and I have a meltdown. And what the tools-for-parents-with-struggling-kids website I found today when I was getting excited about doing extra research on my own after class said about how to help with meltdowns is: give the melting-downer an escape to a quiet, private place, and don't burden them with talking (additional stimulation) -- just sit with them while they calm back down again after too much sensory input. So I'm parenting myself, here, and my stepping away from church activity is my escape to a quieter place, and I'm trying not to beat myself up for reducing the church-based harmful-to-me input while I settle down and try to sort it all out. I don't know if I'll ever fully walk back into the overwhelming stimulus that is church for me again, but even if the church is exactly true in this moment (it's whole and completely developed, there is nothing more, hooray!), if God is loving and just, They'll probably be differentiating for me, anyway, and allowing/supporting a modified program for me so I can eventually reach the same outcomes as all the "standard" students, by coming at them sidewise rather than straight on. The cookie-cutter approach doesn't work for all learners, and while the church agrees that there are exceptions, it doesn't do well at implementing those for those that need them or even systemically identifying those that need exceptions, in my experience. So, uh, yeah. Here I am, which is not quite there. And it will probably be fine, once I can catch my breath again.
P.P.P.S. Hello, actual individual asker, KC! Congratulations on your wedding and on making choices that are accurate reflections of your understanding of what is healthy and pure and uplifting. I hope to develop equal integrity in my own actions, in time.