Before I decided to leave the church, I would try to embody these kinds of “reminders.” But they went against my true nature.
Since I was old enough to roll around the neighborhood alone in the 80s I have felt it: The need for freedom.
My purpose here on Earth, I believe, is to live free and to show people that they are also free, strong, and capable.
And that everyone should feel free to choose their own path, not bound by the mindset of a group.
My own path has been full of unexpected turns and bumps.
I have lost the support of many as I came around bends and stood up and brushed myself off, looking around at who’s left in my life.
It has made my life seem odd.
But today I realized that the oddness of my life is actually the beauty. The fact that I’m not conforming to the religious beliefs I was raised with, ones that made me feel imprisoned and depressed, is a glorious thing.
During my church days, I used to lie in bed at night and worry about whether or not I was good enough. Worthy of Heaven. Anxious thoughts about hiding my religious beliefs from coworkers and friends filled many, probably hundreds of hours of that pre-sleep time.
Until I finally listened to my heart. My childlike, guilt-free, unconditionally loving heart.
When I listened I heard it tell me that I didn’t believe that way. That I never really had. That the only people benefiting from my dishonesty with myself were not living MY life, but were busy living their own.
When I really listened to my heart I found that there could be peace inside, regardless of what way I decided to live my life.
That integrity and honesty, joy and love were possible for me even if I didn’t follow the tribe of my upbringing. Those things lived within my very own heart.
My heart also told me that being afraid did not equate to being safe. A religion that made me feel like I had to fear for my soul if I made a wrong move was not born out of love. It was born out of fear.
Observing the way I had felt during an emotionally abusive marriage had shown me a clear correlation between feeling tricked and guilted into something I knew wasn’t good for me.
My bad marriage actually helped me. And thanks to my freedom-loving soul, I realized it.
It wasn’t healthy.
None of it.
But losing community is hard.
Losing a family is hard.
Losing half of my son’s life to shared custody is hard.
But if keeping all of those things is going to cost me my own freedom, my heart told me, I just can’t do them.
The church would preach that if you feel too comfortable in the world then you’re not doing something right.
I disagree.
I feel comfortable in the world, now. I don’t feel like I’m hiding anything about who I am, and who I want to be.
I am fully myself.
That kind of message only underlines the guilt-inducing brainwashing that I grew up hearing: You can’t live a full life. You can’t do everything you dream of. Stay on the straight and narrow path.
But I beg to ask, WHY?
And I don’t really want to hear the answer. I’ve heard it all thousands of times, in countless sermons.
And I am done.
And I am not guilty.
I am truly free.
More to come on the story of a brainwashed but stubborn woman’s return to herself, with excerpts from her stupid journals. Read the intro post here.
