Former Evangelical Golden Child. Now Completely Godless

[Trike]

Hey y'all, I'm Trike. I've been lurking for awhile but I've finally decided to sign up and share my story.

 

I'm the product of a downright dangerous mix of evangelicalism, pentecostalness, charismatics (one of my greek vocab words last semester was charismata, which means a divinely bestowed gift, but at the time I couldn't remember it and just wrote in "crazy people" for the definition. I'm sure that brought both a smirk and a grimace to my prof's face.), word of faith, Assembly of God and just a touch of fundamentalism and Calvinism for good measure. Yeah, it was fucked up.

 

To top it all off, I was born with something wrong with my heart (in the grand tradition of miracle stories, nobody remembers exactly what was wrong, only that my heart was in really, really bad shape) and I was hooked up to lots of machines and couldn't go home. When the parents have been trying for a child for a long time and finally have one but cannot bring it home it makes them desperate. How desperate? The convince the doc (somehow) to take the child home for the weekend. Then they bring the child to church (leave the ill child in the charge of the elderly ladies and teenagers in the nursery, smart eh?) and bring them forward when the guest speaker, a missionary to South America or Africa (no one quite remembers where he was from either) starts praying over the sick. Child is taken back to the hospital and the doctor is shocked to discover that the child is completely healed. That's all peachy, since the kid has never even had a case of severe heartburn since. What's not peachy is that every single day of the kid's gaddamned life she has to be constantly told that God saved her for a great purpose. Eventually, as the tale expands within the growth cycle of every miracle story, the parents make it sound like she's supposed to be the one leading the charge at Armageddon, saving the entire world or defeating the lie of evolution. Of course, no one every explicitly said any of this, conveniently covering their arses against the railings and rantings and accusations of a disillusioned 20 year old. It was never explicitly stated either, but strongly implied that I was to go into the ministry. I tried on several positions but I never had enough people skills to be a minister (I have a vagina too, which disqualifies me), liked the adventure of missionary work but again had a lack of people skills...I had settled on Biblical Archaeology. That is why I'm at Calvin and why I decided upon Greek instead of Latin (athough I picked up Latin later on).

 

To move this already long story to the present, I have recently realized how much that miracle story and those expectations have molded the entirety of my being. Once I realized that it was there; like the sun pulling around all the other pathos, dreams, loves and depressions by it's gravitational pull; and worked to eject it from the core of my person I realized how hollow I was. No, it wasn't from not having Jesus in my heart anymore (if anyone fucking gives me that line again they'll have their own intestines for breakfast), it was from not having any dreams, ambitions, likes, dislikes, beliefs or convictions outside of what that stupid story dictated. I kid you not, if you asked me a few weeks ago what my favorite colour or food was I could not have answered you.

 

How did I get to the point where I started pulling back the layers of the onion in order to get to that point? I was depressed. I didn't understand why or how I was. But I remember sitting alone in the car at stoplights late at night and wanting to run the red so bad, in the hope that perhaps a drunk driver would not see me in time and smash into me doing 80. I fantasized about death at least 7 times a day, morning, noon and night. Hell, I would have even taken being put into a vegetative state (suicide wasn't an option, as I wasn't sure whether would that would disqualify me from heaven). At the most basic level, I knew that I could only fail, no matter how good I was at defending or proving the Bible or saving people. And failing my parents, and the people they would proudly tell the miracle to, was the last thing I wanted.

 

Not failing my parents backfired. I won't go to church anymore, just discussing a place where a story was allowed to destroy me gives me panic attacks. I won't go to church anymore. God cannot be a loving father, if anything he is a sadistic, evil bastard for allowing what happened to happen to one of his own. Selfish sounding, I know, but a totally rational conclusion. My parents give me those disappointed looks sometimes (a lot less now that I pointed it out to them but still) and probably worry about my soul.

 

But I've always been a glass-half-full character, how many people get to totally rediscover themselves from the ground up at this age? How frickin cool is that?! And, I assume that mu upbringing in the fucked-up faith will provide great, funny material to tantalize, amuse and repulse people if I ever write a novel satire or autobiography (which I'll write after I have those important letters after my name and people actually care about what I've got to say).

[GraphicsGuy]

To move this already long story to the present, I have recently realized how much that miracle story and those expectations have molded the entirety of my being. Once I realized that it was there; like the sun pulling around all the other pathos, dreams, loves and depressions by it's gravitational pull; and worked to eject it from the core of my person I realized how hollow I was.

 

Those expectations put on us by others are a killer, aren't they? All the worse when/if you end up doing nothing "special" with your life and feel like a complete and utter failure.

 

I had to learn that I wasn't a failure...I was just normal. I didn't have to carry the weight of the world on my shoulders or doing a single thing that anyone expected of me.

 

Freedom was wonderful.

 

Sounds like you've found it too. I hope you have. Enjoy your REAL life.

[Trike]

Thank you, I am quite enjoying real life so far. I should also add that i didn't edit that very well, I wrote the body of my deconversion testimony a year ago, so a "Few month" should be read as "a year ago". My bad.

[pitchu]

Welcome, Trike, and I love it that with the powerful telling of your unique story you're concerned about editing! (I see myself in that little obsession. )

[Vomit Comet]

Wow! Incredible story. I see that we have much in common. Keep on posting... thou shalt lurk no more!!!

[Guest Aquarius217]

Not failing my parents backfired. I won't go to church anymore, just discussing a place where a story was allowed to destroy me gives me panic attacks. I won't go to church anymore. God cannot be a loving father, if anything he is a sadistic, evil bastard for allowing what happened to happen to one of his own. Selfish sounding, I know, but a totally rational conclusion. My parents give me those disappointed looks sometimes (a lot less now that I pointed it out to them but still) and probably worry about my soul.

 

 

This was one of the hardest parts of my deconversion -- not failing my mother. After a while, I stopped buying the whole "God works miracles" thing. I remember people getting the houses, cars, grades, you name it that they prayed for, claiming it was "by the grace of God". Yet people get sick, become homeless, starve to death, etc. I mean, God cares about getting someone a fancy car but not about curing cancer? I just couldn't believe it.

 

Anyways, welcome Trike! I enjoyed reading your story.

[mahjong]

What's not peachy is that every single day of the kid's gaddamned life she has to be constantly told that God saved her for a great purpose. Eventually, as the tale expands within the growth cycle of every miracle story, the parents make it sound like she's supposed to be the one leading the charge at Armageddon, saving the entire world or defeating the lie of evolution.

 

I can picture you now, leading the charge, and it is just an excellent thought. Definitely keep your sense of humor! Maybe that is the great purpose God saved you for! After all, in these days when everything seems so dire, we can all use a good laugh. It makes me feel better, for sure!

[ShackledNoMore]

Welcome, Trike!

 

How fascinating it would be to be a fly on the wall for the events we can't remember from when we were too young!

 

It's pretty clear that the version you got was warped (and a vague "something wrong with your heart" with no specifics, yet you had to be hooked up to machines fits the miracle folklore machine perfectly).

 

I'm so glad you rediscovered yourself and saw through the toxic expectations that got dumped on you along with the story.

[Guest SpeedShady]

To me, the obvious question is why all the drama? If god did have some grand plan for you, why make you sick in the first place only to heal you later? Could you not be the god warrior your supposed to be without the faulty ticker first? Oh, I know, we can't possibly understand god's plan blah blah blah... I wonder how different your life would be if you were an amputee? Cuz' we all know god never heals those.

 

BTW, great story.

[pitchu]

Welcome to you, too, SpeedShady.

[babysealclubber]

I have a vagina too, which disqualifies me.

 

It's no so much the fact that you have a vagina, it's mostly your lack of a penis. Don't worry, lots of women make that mistake. Probably because they don't have a penis.

 

If anyone fucking gives me that line again they'll have their own intestines for breakfast.

 

Ugh. I *just* got done watching Sweeney Todd. My stomach churned when I read that.

 

But overall it was a great read, thanks for sharing it .

[R. S. Martin]

Eventually, as the tale expands within the growth cycle of every miracle story, the parents make it sound like she's supposed to be the one leading the charge at Armageddon, saving the entire world or defeating the lie of evolution.

 

the railings and rantings and accusations of a disillusioned 20 year old.

 

I decided upon Greek instead of Latin (athough I picked up Latin later on).

 

You're only twenty and you've already got Greek and Latin? Trike, you'll lead your own Armageddon in your own way either before or after you get those "important letters" after your name. You've got a way that will make people listen up with or without those letters. I'm glad you figured out that you've got a right to be you while you're still young enough to enjoy part of your youth.

[R. S. Martin]

I have a vagina too, which disqualifies me.

 

It's no so much the fact that you have a vagina, it's mostly your lack of a penis. Don't worry, lots of women make that mistake. Probably because they don't have a penis.

 

 

Maybe that's the way some immature males think but it would be because they're immature, no matter how long ago they exited their mother's uterus. The amount of intelligence demonstrated by the penises of men like that stands not a chance in Hades against the brains of women like Trike, and the many women who fought across the centuries for the right of women to own bank accounts, earn wages, get educations, and, in short, have equal pay for equal work. That the battle is not won yet is witness to the smallness of these men and I'm not sure if it is their penises or brains that are too small, given the supposed importance of their genitalia.

 

Trike, don't give up just because it's impossible. I'm a woman, too, and I've gone places women aren't supposed to be able to go--at least not women from horse and buggy communities. I'm supposed to be border-line retarded but I persevered till I got a Masters degree while all my sibs got only eight grades or less. They have the church's approval and I got kicked out. Actually, you can find the link to my story in my profile if you're interested.

 

~Ruby

[upstarter]

You do have a great story. Welcome Trike, you have much to add here.

 

I agree with ShakledNoMore... it's so convenient that they can invent whatever elements of your story that suit their purposes. I have spent a lot of time in pediatric intensive care units and I can tell you that if you were so ill as to be "hooked up to machines" you would not have been released for the weekend. I'm sure there is much more to the story that they have all "forgotten". What a way to screw with your mind though.

 

Welcome to the world outside the mindfuck.

 

Heather

[Shawn]

Hey y'all, I'm Trike. I've been lurking for awhile but I've finally decided to sign up and share my story.

 

I'm the product of a downright dangerous mix of evangelicalism, pentecostalness, charismatics (one of my greek vocab words last semester was charismata, which means a divinely bestowed gift, but at the time I couldn't remember it and just wrote in "crazy people" for the definition. I'm sure that brought both a smirk and a grimace to my prof's face.), word of faith, Assembly of God and just a touch of fundamentalism and Calvinism for good measure. Yeah, it was fucked up.

 

To top it all off, I was born with something wrong with my heart (in the grand tradition of miracle stories, nobody remembers exactly what was wrong, only that my heart was in really, really bad shape) and I was hooked up to lots of machines and couldn't go home. When the parents have been trying for a child for a long time and finally have one but cannot bring it home it makes them desperate. How desperate? The convince the doc (somehow) to take the child home for the weekend. Then they bring the child to church (leave the ill child in the charge of the elderly ladies and teenagers in the nursery, smart eh?) and bring them forward when the guest speaker, a missionary to South America or Africa (no one quite remembers where he was from either) starts praying over the sick. Child is taken back to the hospital and the doctor is shocked to discover that the child is completely healed. That's all peachy, since the kid has never even had a case of severe heartburn since. What's not peachy is that every single day of the kid's gaddamned life she has to be constantly told that God saved her for a great purpose. Eventually, as the tale expands within the growth cycle of every miracle story, the parents make it sound like she's supposed to be the one leading the charge at Armageddon, saving the entire world or defeating the lie of evolution. Of course, no one every explicitly said any of this, conveniently covering their arses against the railings and rantings and accusations of a disillusioned 20 year old. It was never explicitly stated either, but strongly implied that I was to go into the ministry. I tried on several positions but I never had enough people skills to be a minister (I have a vagina too, which disqualifies me), liked the adventure of missionary work but again had a lack of people skills...I had settled on Biblical Archaeology. That is why I'm at Calvin and why I decided upon Greek instead of Latin (athough I picked up Latin later on).

 

To move this already long story to the present, I have recently realized how much that miracle story and those expectations have molded the entirety of my being. Once I realized that it was there; like the sun pulling around all the other pathos, dreams, loves and depressions by it's gravitational pull; and worked to eject it from the core of my person I realized how hollow I was. No, it wasn't from not having Jesus in my heart anymore (if anyone fucking gives me that line again they'll have their own intestines for breakfast), it was from not having any dreams, ambitions, likes, dislikes, beliefs or convictions outside of what that stupid story dictated. I kid you not, if you asked me a few weeks ago what my favorite colour or food was I could not have answered you.

 

How did I get to the point where I started pulling back the layers of the onion in order to get to that point? I was depressed. I didn't understand why or how I was. But I remember sitting alone in the car at stoplights late at night and wanting to run the red so bad, in the hope that perhaps a drunk driver would not see me in time and smash into me doing 80. I fantasized about death at least 7 times a day, morning, noon and night. Hell, I would have even taken being put into a vegetative state (suicide wasn't an option, as I wasn't sure whether would that would disqualify me from heaven). At the most basic level, I knew that I could only fail, no matter how good I was at defending or proving the Bible or saving people. And failing my parents, and the people they would proudly tell the miracle to, was the last thing I wanted.

 

Not failing my parents backfired. I won't go to church anymore, just discussing a place where a story was allowed to destroy me gives me panic attacks. I won't go to church anymore. God cannot be a loving father, if anything he is a sadistic, evil bastard for allowing what happened to happen to one of his own. Selfish sounding, I know, but a totally rational conclusion. My parents give me those disappointed looks sometimes (a lot less now that I pointed it out to them but still) and probably worry about my soul.

 

But I've always been a glass-half-full character, how many people get to totally rediscover themselves from the ground up at this age? How frickin cool is that?! And, I assume that mu upbringing in the fucked-up faith will provide great, funny material to tantalize, amuse and repulse people if I ever write a novel satire or autobiography (which I'll write after I have those important letters after my name and people actually care about what I've got to say).

 

Hey Trike, welcome!

 

I have a similar story to yours - and I was expected to be this great minister/preacher/witness after the "miracles" and "saving power of Jesus" were "seen". When people believe you are a "special child of God" and believe they witnessed a miracle - it can be a huge pain in the rear to get them to leave you alone. At one point, I had people from church follow me to a restaraunt, and follow me to my apartment - AFTER I told them to get lost. They just "knew" Jesus wanted them to get me back, and I was "resisting the Lord's will".

 

I found doing what I wanted (and tossing out every bit of religious material), and getting a girlfriend, was the best remedy for all of that garbage.

 

Good to hear your testimony!

 

Shawn

[Trike]

Eventually, as the tale expands within the growth cycle of every miracle story, the parents make it sound like she's supposed to be the one leading the charge at Armageddon, saving the entire world or defeating the lie of evolution.

 

the railings and rantings and accusations of a disillusioned 20 year old.

 

I decided upon Greek instead of Latin (athough I picked up Latin later on).

 

You're only twenty and you've already got Greek and Latin? Trike, you'll lead your own Armageddon in your own way either before or after you get those "important letters" after your name. You've got a way that will make people listen up with or without those letters. I'm glad you figured out that you've got a right to be you while you're still young enough to enjoy part of your youth.

 

 

Thank you. And I will now have to look up your story, as it sounds fascinating. May I ask what your masters was in?

 

And thanks to everyone else for the welcome and encouragement. It's weird that I used to live in fear of becoming "one of those atheists", whom I was taught were completely immoral, horrible and unhappy people, when I started down the path of questioning everything. But now, the thought of going back just seems so silly and pointless. I'm seriously happier now than I have ever been.

[Guest DuWayne]

Glad you posted your story, motivates me to get mine up there (though I have to think about it a bit more). I am finding that the thing I love about this forum, is how very many people have such similar experiences to my own. I mean I didn't have the great miracle to make me a evangelical golden child, rather I just happened to be fairly smart and interested in theology at a young age. Couple that with a talent for writing music and I was a shoe in for being a mighty servant of my god.

 

Then I got basically shunned from a church for having the audacity to use the performance of a new song I'd wrote, to chastise much of the congregation for not being very Christian to a fifteen year old girl in the youth group who got pregnant. I was actually escorted out of the church, for quoting scripture and mentioning her name. Though it took several years after that, that was the beginning of the end.

 

Thank you for writing about your experience. I know from my own how hard it is to think about sometimes, much less write about.