Episode 202: Finding My Voice, with Anne Pimentel

Hey, everybody! Welcome to today’s episode of beyond living beyond the shadow of doubt. I’m Megan Skidmore, your host and I have Ann Pimentel with me. Did I say that right? I forgot to ask you that.

That’s okay, Pim, and tell like, kiss and tell.

Say that again. Okay, I’ll cut that out.

And I have Ann Pimentel with me. And hopefully, this will get uploaded to YouTube eventually, and you’ll be able to see her fantastically bright, colorful hair.

Got it.

Shades of purple and fuchsias, a little bit of rose in there.

It takes guts to sport that. So I love it. It says a lot about you.

Thanks, so.

And I got to meet you. It’s been a couple of months now at the International Women’s Day Celebration that was hosted by Ashley and Emily of that’s church podcast and it was such a fabulous event. I loved all the ways that we celebrated a lot of different things, and you brought something really unique to the table to that evening. Your presentation has really stuck with me, and I’m not going to spoil it. I want you to be able to give voice to the creation, to the birthing of this and this element of your claiming your faith, your spiritual sovereignty that is so beautiful.

So before we jump into that, though: can you just share with our listeners a little bit about you—your background, where you’re from, all the things?

Yeah. So I was born and raised in Utah in Utah County. My parents were lifelong members, so I was raised in the church. I’m the youngest of four daughters. And so that brought a lot of fun and challenging childhood experiences. I grew up very faithful—should we call it Molly Mormon—very much in the church, and I served a mission to El Salvador, and I did an internship to Romania, which was incredible, working with orphan children there. Those two experiences really set me on a path in my life of looking out for and being aware of marginalized people. And so I think my whole life, you know, until probably the last ten years or so, I was just your cookie‑cutter, faithful Latter‑day Saint member married in the temple. I met my husband at BYU. We have four boys, you know. We lived a pretty normal, idealistic life for a long time, and for the most part, it still is pretty normal and idealistic. We have a lot of privilege and a lot of good things happening in our lives. And I would say church was good until it wasn’t—and it is in a lot of ways—but I definitely have gone through a faith expansion and a journey and kind of feel like I’m still right in the middle of it, really. So yeah.

And I love that. It’s excruciating and messy, but also beautiful and unique, and yours to be in this middle. Yeah, you mentioned it, so thank you for being willing to come and share about it openly.

True.

This is something I feel really called to do and really strongly about—that our faith journeys are unique, and it’s supposed to be that way. It’s meant to be that way. I mean, it actually makes sense—why wouldn’t they? We’re all so vastly different and unique, even within a similar background, a similar faith community.

Yeah, our experiences all dictate how we approach the world and interact.

Good.

And I’m celebrating that. I decided earlier this year, 2025, to reimagine my podcast to really focus on not just the faith journey alone—because that’s a good thing: there’s lots of pain points, growth, and wisdom in that evolution—but sometimes those painful points can overshadow other parts. And so I’ve really enjoyed this reimagining where I want to hear about those joyful, blissful, exquisite things that have come from claiming one’s spiritual sovereignty, from taking those leaps, steps—whatever it felt like—into the unknown, into the uncertain, into uncharted territory for you.

Yeah, when everything seems to fall apart, I have learned that building it back is the beautiful part, and there is a lot of beauty and joy in building it back.

I love that, and that’s where you’re driving. So let’s shift there, if that’s okay—building it back. When would you say you started to shift? Maybe in your perspective? What new information or new understandings were introduced into your world that catalyzed this faith expansion?

Like I mentioned, my internship to Romania and my mission in El Salvador both were really the catalyst. They helped broaden my view, which for a long time was very narrow—just my lived experience, and that’s what I centered because that’s all I knew. I fault no one for centering their lived experiences—it’s natural. But that’s why it’s so important to step outside our comfort zones and learn about others—other cultures, people, perspectives—because that really opens a door to the rest of the world.

Even with that broadened perspective, I still teetered on centering myself and looking at others. The biggest transformation came early 2020—late January or early February—when I did a ten‑day compassion challenge that my sister invited me to join. It was hosted by a meditation leader who brought in various speakers over the ten days to teach us to cultivate more compassion. One speaker was Valerie Kaur, of the Sikh faith—pronounced “Sikh”—who wrote See No Stranger. She shared a teaching from her guru: “You are a part of me that I do not yet know,” and encouraged us to start with wonder. When you see someone, don’t judge them immediately—start with wonder. That was powerful and familiar because of our teaching that we’re all children of God. It led me down a path of genuine curiosity about others.

Then George Floyd’s murder happened. I felt prepared to really listen and acknowledge people’s suffering and lived experiences. I got involved in organizations and helped found a nonprofit called Meeting House Mosaic, which works to diversify Christian art—because the world is diverse and beautiful, and our art should reflect that. That commitment to diversity has been a major force in reshaping my spiritual and religious perspective, and I’m grateful for it.

Yeah, that’s beautiful. I can’t agree more—my first international travel in college changed me profoundly. Seeing beyond national borders, beyond my prior worldview, is irreplaceable.

You mentioned it opens doors. Can you name one or two specific doors that really swung wide for you? You talked about the compassion challenge—that was one.

Spiritually, listening to people with different experiences opened doors to understanding Heavenly Mother, women’s issues, LGBTQ issues, Black members’ issues—just realizing people have very different experiences in church opened a cascade of new insights.

On a more temporal level, I got more involved politically and absorbed everything like a sponge. And that compassion challenge also strengthened my bond with my sister, who had stepped away from the church. Inviting me in fostered conversations that brought us closer—that’s been priceless.

I love that: listening to someone’s story opens a door of possibility—“What am I not understanding? What am I unaware of?” You listed women’s issues, the priesthood ban, LGBTQ+ topics, men’s and women’s differing church experiences. What’s the most important thing you’ve learned by listening to someone else’s story?

Stories hold power. Fictional stories can shift us, but real lived experiences are different. The more we listen, honor, believe, and validate people’s lived experiences—even if they differ from ours—the more we bridge divides. I’m passionate about creating space for people to share their stories and feel heard.

Listening to learn, not to respond or compete—just listening to listen and see them.

Exactly.

You mentioned your sister. Accepting that invitation to the compassion challenge was like building or strengthening a bridge. What other challenges have you navigated as your worldview broadened and you claimed it? And what joys or blessings came from that—beyond your sister?

Part of this journey has been finding my voice. I never thought my story mattered—I blended in and didn’t feel I had anything unique. Learning to speak up has been key. One favorite quote (often attributed to RBG) is “Speak your mind—even if your voice shakes.” My voice shakes a lot. I’ve had to learn to speak in ways that invite understanding rather than bulldoze.

In church contexts—working with people at different faith stages—I’ve had to cultivate tenderness along with directness, setting boundaries: “This is my perspective; I’ll be here when you’re ready to talk or ask questions.” That’s been hard but rewarding. The joy is that I now can advocate for myself and for others, aspiring to be an ally and a stone catcher for those who suffer.

Thank you—that’s so important, especially for women not socialized to use their voices. I, too, have found mine. For me, a phrase that helps is “make it easier”—I established core values (authenticity, vulnerability, DEIB, love) and use them as filters. If a choice aligns with those, the next step becomes clear. You mentioned your personal Articles of Faith—can you share how they came about and what they mean for you?

Years ago I heard someone rewrite the church’s Articles of Faith as a personal exercise, and it stuck with me. I realized my spiritual life could be personal. One night I opened the church’s thirteen Articles of Faith side by side with a blank doc and, one by one, asked: “What do I truly believe about this? How would I state it to reflect my faith?” I didn’t discard the church’s unless I disagreed; I personalized each to reflect my actual beliefs. When I finished, I read through them and thought, “That is exactly who I am and what drives me.”

Great—read us a few, and we’ll link the full list in the show notes.

Sure. My second reads: “I believe that as humans we will make mistakes—it is part of our nature—and I believe we will be astonished at the amount of grace given by loving parents, our heavenly parents.” Grace has been a huge lesson: it lifts the weight of perfectionism and transactional faith (“If I do this, I get that”). Understanding we will err, and that grace awaits, is freeing.

Beautiful—grace has no bounds; humans impose them.

Exactly. Here’s my sixth: “I believe the church is scaffolding we may use to learn about God. Inspired spiritual mentors and brilliant thinkers can be found in religions worldwide. I believe in education and applying knowledge to help us be better humans.” I’ve learned from Christian thinkers beyond my tradition—Richard Rohr, Nadia Bolz‑Weber, etc.—and that breadth enriches my faith. The church as scaffolding means it’s a tool to reach God, not the only one.

I love “tool in the toolbox.” One more?

Number nine: “I believe in change. I believe in progress. I believe in growth.” Change is powerful. I wrote Changemakers with Macarthur Krishna to highlight women who transformed Zion. Progress and growth aren’t to be feared; they bring richness and beauty.

If we’re not progressing, we’re stagnating—stopping our evolution.

100% respect. I’ll have Macarthur on soon after you and link your book, the Articles of Faith, and Meeting House Mosaic. Speaking of that, how did it start and what’s its mission?

In 2020, after the racial turmoil, a friend told me about a three‑week LDS training series in Austin focused on helping women of color feel included in Relief Society. After finishing, each of us chose a passion project; I chose art. My group met monthly, shared diverse Christian artwork on Instagram and Facebook, and soon became a 501(c)(3). We commission pieces, hold art shows, and raise funds for scholarships for artists of color—bridging the gap in opportunities for high‑quality, diverse Christian art.

That’s wonderful. Change at the institutional level is slow, but grassroots efforts spark conversation and awareness—Jesus wasn’t actually white, etc. People need to see themselves in divinity.

Absolutely, especially our LGBTQ+ siblings. Seeing ourselves in sacred imagery is vital.

Your Instagram is @meetinghousemosaic, and you post exquisite art. Finally, what one thing has brought you the most joy in claiming your spiritual expansion?

My connection with Jesus and my heavenly parents has deepened in ways I never imagined. As I lean into spiritual sovereignty and embrace who I am, it helps me love and reach out to others better.

That’s a gift uniquely yours, hand‑wrapped in a bow. Last question: what does living beyond the shadow of doubt mean to you?

Faith isn’t diminished by doubt—it makes room for questions, for wrestling, for growth. Living beyond that shadow means holding faith in our loving parents and Christ even as we sit with doubt, patiently discerning what to do with it. That tension is where the beauty and growth happen.

I love that. A reminder that doubt is a space for growth, here and beyond. Thank you so much—you’re a beautiful soul, and I see the light in you. Folks, connect at @meetinghousemosaic or on Instagram @thevisionbeautiful. Thanks for being here!