I Am A Monkey Girl

[new2me]

I became “saved” when I was 12 years old, not long after my family started attending a Southern Baptist church. Our old church taught about God and Christianity but I never got a sense that they expected people to have it consume their whole lives. That all changed at our new church.

 

The first thing I found strange about the church was the ridiculously long prayers during the worship service. I entertained myself sometimes by timing them on my watch. When I complained about this to my father, he rebuked me and told me that long prayers were good and that good Christians should pray a lot. I guess I learned early on not to talk about things that seemed weird or unreasonable to me at church.

 

My sister was the first to walk down the aisle during the long, drawn-out emotional hymn after one Sunday sermon. I remember how proud my Dad was about that. On the way home from church that afternoon he announced, “at least three of us in this family will be together in heaven”. Well, there were only four of us so I knew he meant that I was the one still on track to go to hell. I didn’t like feeling that I was being pushed into doing something that wasn’t my idea, so I held out a little longer. I did feel scared about it, though.

 

My Sunday school teacher told my class one day about when she became saved. She said when she prayed for Jesus to enter her heart she felt this enormous weight lifted from her shoulders. She described it as a real, physical feeling to her. When I made the decision to ask Jesus to enter my heart not long after that, sitting quietly in my room, I felt nothing. I thought maybe I did it wrong. I prayed every night for days for Jesus to enter my heart and still felt nothing. I would say, “if you haven’t come into my heart yet, please come in now.” I apologized to Jesus for asking so many times. After a week, I figured God must have heard me and assumed Jesus was there. Much later I asked my dad about this physical feeling experienced by my teacher and he explained that it was probably because she was older and had a lot more sin on her heart. That comforted me a bit.

 

Not long after I prayed for salvation, I planned my walk down the aisle. I started sitting up front in church, as I gained my confidence, and it sure did make the walk a lot shorter. My father seemed happy but he didn’t make as big a deal about it as I thought he would. Anyway, I was just glad that I wasn’t still going to hell.

 

In middle school and high school, I was very much an outsider. My church was teaching me that I needed to stand up for Jesus and proclaim my faith, but I didn’t want to do anything that would cause me any more ridicule than I already suffered. The times I did try to stand up for my faith I just ended up making a jackass of myself. I told myself often I would reinvent myself and really live my life for Christ when I went to college.

 

A few years after we started attending the Southern Baptist church, they got a new pastor. Somewhere around that time, the church started assigning spiritual mentors to new Christians joining the church. Because my father was a deacon and I had been saved for a while, I was selected to be a spiritual mentor to a girl a little bit younger than me who had recently been “saved”. They must have asked if I was willing to serve in that capacity, I can’t remember, but seriously – how could I have said no without bringing shame to my father or embarrassing myself? I stood in front of the entire congregation and accepted this responsibility, but never had a single conversation with her about God. I felt awful about it. I didn’t know how to help her because I didn’t think I was a great Christian myself. What assuaged my guilt about being such a poor mentor was the fact that I realized I didn’t have much to teach her.

 

By the time I was a senior in high school, the church pastor had done a thorough job of ripping the church in two. I don’t remember all of the reasons, and I wasn’t privy to most of them anyway, but the bottom line was that my father and several other long-time church members had discovered that the pastor was a liar, and over the course of several months many families, including mine, left that church. We initially started attending a very small church made up mostly of members from my former congregation, which I liked because my best friend from church also went there. Unfortunately, my father decided that he preferred another Southern Baptist church that was more established and larger. I had one long-time friend from church there, but the others in my Sunday school were exceptionally rude to me. I hated going there and couldn’t wait to stop attending church altogether when I went to college in the fall. The ugliness I experienced during this period convinced me that I would never set foot in a Southern Baptist church again.

 

So no, I did not reinvent my life as a Jesus freak when I began college. I was so excited to finally be building a social circle and making friends that I did not want to jeopardize that by coming out as an evangelical Christian. I did talk about it with my closest friends, though. I gently proselytized to my roommate, who grew up as a Catholic. She told me she couldn’t buy into the part where everyone who never heard of Jesus went to hell. I told her I didn’t have an answer for her on that and later talked to my uncle, an American Baptist pastor, for guidance. In short, my uncle told me that Jesus will judge us on what we know, not what we don’t know – we will be judged by the state of our heart. That sounded reasonable and comforting to me.

 

I remember having some discussions through the years with my father about some parts of the Bible that were hard to accept. He reasoned away Paul’s decree that “women should be silent in the church” as an admonition to one of the ancient churches where some women had been disruptive in the congregation and was not intended to mean that no woman should ever speak in church. He seemed to agree with me when I told him that I thought of the Adam & Eve story as an allegorical tale designed to teach the importance of obedience to God to a primitive audience. But I am ashamed now when I look back at how little I questioned the church teachings and how easily I accepted any explanation that bolstered the dogma that I had been taught. Why had I never thought about how awful it would be if millions of people who had never heard of Jesus were condemned to eternal torture in hell? Why did I think that I could enjoy a blissful existence in heaven if I knew that people I had cared about during my life would be experiencing that everlasting suffering? I was not an unintelligent or uncaring person. I know that somewhere along the way I comforted myself with the thought that God was in control, and whatever system he employed to sort out the good from the bad would be fairer than anything I could develop in my own mind. I recognize now that it was a cop-out for what was really going on in my head – that I couldn’t make sense of the church teachings but I was too afraid not to believe.

 

After college I moved back and forth across the country for my job and eventually turned back to church to make friends and reconnect with the God I had been ignoring for so many years. I got completely sucked up in it and vowed to start living my life for Jesus. Shortly after that I broke up with my college boyfriend, which was extremely traumatic for me. My life became even more difficult when I moved across the country again. I found a new church and was making friends but it was hard to connect with most of the people there, as I was the only one in the singles group with a degree and a professional job. I remember on New Year’s Eve being on the verge of throwing myself off the balcony of my apartment. Everything reminded me of my ex and I didn’t know how to live my life without him. Ironically, the thing that kept me alive that night was not any comfort from God or the Bible. I realized that even if I quit my job, sold all of my stuff, packed it all in and showed up on my parents’ doorstep – although they would be disappointed in me, they would far prefer to support me than to bury me. I knew that I could never actually take that step because of the incredible pain it would cause the people who loved me.

 

I continued following Jesus as I worked through this difficult time in my life. I attended a fundamentalist church regularly, attended small group Bible studies, and was an active member of the singles group. I listened to very little secular music and didn’t even watch much television. Encouraged by friends in the church to develop my “relationship” with Jesus, I began setting aside quiet time every day where I sang worship songs, praised God, prayed, studied the Bible, and had quiet time for God to “speak to me”. I tried as hard as I could to enjoy this boring routine. I tried as hard as I could to convince myself that it was meaningful. I asked Jesus to bless this time that we spent together so that I could feel his presence. Ultimately, I could not get past the emptiness I felt during this exercise and the acute feeling that I was just talking to the wall when I prayed, so I stopped doing it. I volunteered for the visitation ministry at church, where a small group of people from the church would go to people’s homes who had visited our church and indicated that they would like more information about the church. I wanted to become more comfortable with sharing my faith and leading others to Christ, but it somehow felt wrong to me to enter a house and initiate conversations that made the people who lived there uncomfortable. Despite the fact that I did not feel that the visitation leaders were disrespectful or even pushy, and that I really didn’t say more than hello, I just felt strange about being part of the process at all. I told myself that perhaps this wasn’t “God’s calling” for my life, although I don’t think I ever reconciled that idea with the Bible command to “go tell all the world”. I tried in other ways to profess my faith to people I knew but it was always accompanied by a decidedly unpleasant feeling. I stopped doing that, too.

 

I started reading books on Christian apologetics to try to bolster my faith and address some of the questions that continued to develop in my mind. I read other books about loving God and building a relationship with Jesus. The apologetics helped to prop up my beliefs but the relationship books fell flat. Looking back now I think the first seeds of my deconversion were planted at that time in my life, although I was far from realizing it.

 

I moved again when I took leave from my job to attend graduate school full-time. It was an incredibly challenging program but I still attended church when I could. When I graduated, I moved across the country again to take a new job. I shopped around for a church to join, but couldn’t find one with people I could really relate to. I tentatively settled on a very small fundamentalist church, and although the people were very nice, I never fit in. I remember going out with a few of them for dinner one night after work. The restaurant was packed and we had a long wait for our table. I went to the bar and ordered a beer to drink while we waited. When I joined the rest of the group I could see how uncomfortable they were and knew that ordering a drink had been a mistake. To their credit, they didn’t say a word about it. But that wasn’t the only discomfort I experienced that night. One woman in the group could not talk about anything other than Jesus. I found it totally annoying and had nothing to contribute to the conversation. I did not seek their company again.

 

I was very lonely. I had met some people at my new job and was making friends, but I spent most of my time outside of work by myself. My love life was utterly non-existent. I continued attending church on a less regular basis, but started to have trouble during the worship service when the words in the songs seemed to poke at the most painful places in my soul – songs about how happy we are because Jesus is in our lives, how our hearts rejoice because of the prayers that God has answered, etc. I felt completely abandoned. I met one Christian friend who brought me to her church one Sunday and I broke down crying in the middle of the songs. My friend pulled me into another room and I told her that I just could not make myself sing those words anymore. I did not feel that Jesus was there for me. I did not feel his presence. I could not understand why Jesus would leave me with this horrible lonely feeling. She comforted me and sympathized with me, but after that Sunday we never spoke of it again.

 

A few years went by and I finally got to the point where I was simply angry with God. I had tried to suppress that emotion for so long because I was afraid of what would happen if I actually told God how I felt. I finally decided that since Jesus was supposed to be my friend, and God knows how I feel anyway, I let myself express those thoughts out loud. I asked him why he took away the love of my life. I asked him why he hadn’t brought anyone else into my life. I asked him why it felt like he was not there for me and why I had to be so horribly alone. And I apologized for my impertinence at demanding answers from the all-powerful God. After being in this stage for probably another year, I decided that I needed to “take a break” from God. I simply asked him to give me contentment so that I would know that my life was going in the right direction.

 

I finally started making friends, joined a beach house, and made a lot more friends. I partied a lot, drank a lot, and hooked up with a lot of guys. My life didn’t feel perfect, but once I didn’t feel so lonely all the time, I felt pretty content. I was quite confused that God would want me to feel content while living a life that was so diametrically opposed to the church teachings, but I didn’t argue with him about it. I always thought I would eventually “repent” of this lifestyle and go back to church.

 

What happened first was that I got bored with that lifestyle. It didn’t take long. I was still having some fun, but grew tired of the bar scene and all of the childishness that goes along with it. Many of my friends were pairing off in relationships or getting married, and I was still single with no prospects. Sometimes I hung out with friends as the “third wheel”, which was okay, and I also tried to entertain myself with solitary pursuits – like taking myself to movies or dinner or doing puzzles at home. Yeah, that wasn’t going to be fun for long.

 

Fortunately a friend of mine introduced me to a friend of her fiancé’s who she thought I would like. The four of us went out together and their friend and I had an instant connection. We started dating and quickly got serious. I know we discussed religion at some point, but it was not a big deal in either of our lives. He grew up in a Catholic family and had fallen away from that. He infrequently attended a Unitarian church and liked that very much. He was glad that I believed in God because his last girlfriend was an atheist and he didn’t like that. After we got engaged, we attended some church services here and there but didn’t find something that we both felt comfortable with. He wasn’t as interested as I was in finding a church after we got married, but it wasn’t something I worried about a lot. Now that my life was happy and the loneliness issue had disappeared, I thought about ending my “break” with God, but keeping a respectful distance had been working out pretty well so far and I didn’t want to mess with it.

 

So life moved along, and after a few years I got pregnant, my husband took another job and we moved to a new place. We both had terrible commutes for work and once the baby came our free time nearly vanished. My husband showed more interest in joining a church now that we were starting a family, but there wasn’t any time and we figured we would wait until we got settled in our new location.

 

One thing that I find wonderful about my husband is that he is always trying to learn new things. During one trip to the library, he picked out a book called Monkey Girl, a true story about a school board in Pennsylvania that required its biology teachers to promote the theory of intelligent design. In my science classes in high school, I am pretty sure that they just skipped right over the pages that talked about evolution. I had always been taught that scientists had never discovered the “missing link” that connected humans to primate ancestors, and I believed they never would because I thought God had created humans in his own image. I did believe that other animals had evolved, but that God probably had some hand in that process. I was not sure that I believed in “intelligent design”, but didn’t know exactly what that meant. I believed that God created the Earth, but felt that he probably initiated the Big Bang. A few years back I remember debating with my friends from church who believed in a 6000-year history of the universe. I thought that was ridiculous. I did learn that the debate was useless, though – because even when I found information in the Bible that refuted some of the key points my friends made, they just stopped the conversation when they could not prove me wrong.

 

Anyway, my husband knew my beliefs about evolution but thought I might enjoy reading the book. He always throws good books in my direction, so I figured I’d give it a look. Evolution was not an issue for him as it was not against the teachings of the Catholic church, so reading the book had no impact on his religious belief.

 

In one post on this site, I said that reading this book was the first big “chink in the armor” that really started my deconversion. That is an understatement. It was more like an earthquake. The book laid out the clear evidence for humans’ evolution from primates and showed how the Christian people of the town fervently tried to hide this evidence from their children in fear of it shaking their faith. I suddenly realized that my own school had done me a grave disservice by not presenting this information to me earlier. While I had long believed that the Adam & Eve story was an allegorical tale, knowing that humans had actually evolved from primates and were not created by God kicked off some serious doubts about the teachings of the church in general. I ruminated on this in the back of my mind for years.

 

So time marched on, I had another baby, my husband took another new job and we moved again. This time we thought we could stay put for a while. After a few months we found a small Episcopal church in our neighborhood that seemed like a good compromise church for us. The people were very nice and were not judgmental or preachy at all. The kids seemed to enjoy their time in the nursery. The sermons were usually not that great – we often talked afterwards to see if we could determine what the point of the sermon was – but I didn’t know what I really wanted from a sermon because I no longer really knew what I believed about God. My husband really only wanted to go to church for the sake of the children – to give them some spiritual grounding. We started talking about getting the kids baptized, but scheduling was always a challenge. Ultimately, my husband got another job and we moved again, leaving us in the same position of waiting to find a church until we got settled.

 

During my adult years as a Christian, I wrestled with the church ideology and doctrine on a variety of issues. I continued to comfort myself with the old idea that God’s justice system would be fairer than any I could devise, but now I really struggled over what to believe about the Bible. Was some of it allegorical, some of it literal, some of it intended to be taken in context of the time in which it was written? My ability to believe that it was the infallible, perfect word of God was completely shaken by my acceptance of human evolution.

 

I guess I’m not surprised by how easily my faith folded in the end. It was all built on an intricate web of lies that could not withstand critical analysis. Years before, I studied books on apologetics with the desired conclusion already defined. I allowed myself to hide from the truth by never challenging the fundamental assumptions that my faith was built on. But ultimately, I had to be ready to reach the point where I was truly ready to face reality. I had long since tired of banging my head against a wall to figure out how to “feel God’s presence”. I had no remaining desire to tell others about Jesus or attempt to convert them. I was weary of trying to manipulate the facts to make a case for the “truth” of the Christian teachings.

 

My mom had bought a children’s Bible for my oldest son, which he enjoyed having us read to him. It was never a book I selected, but I would read it if he brought it to me. Boiled down to their basic elements, it suddenly seemed very clear that the stories were not, and could not be, literally true. I started to feel very uncomfortable about reading the book to my child, and began realizing that I didn’t believe any of the fairy tales anymore. I cringed when my son asked how Jesus was able to do the miraculous things described in the stories, and I told him either that Jesus was ‘magic’ or that it was just a story. I found myself hoping that he would interpret these stories in the same way he does when I read to him about Winnie the Pooh or Thomas the Tank Engine.

 

Finally, I could not kick the can any further down the road. I needed to do my own research about Jesus, the Bible, and Christianity. I watched a documentary about Jesus that I thought did a pretty good job describing what the world was like in the time that he was supposed to have lived, and describing what he may have been like if he actually existed. People contributing to the documentary included both Bible scholars and archeologists, and it did not draw any conclusions on whether Jesus or the resurrection was real or not. Then, since I figured I already had exposure to Christian apologetics, I looked for some material arguing against Christianity. I watched a snarky documentary that was not extremely well done, but made some good points. I watched ‘Religulous’, which I had previously refused to watch with my husband. I also started reading material written by Sam Harris, Richard Dawkins, and other prominent atheists. I allowed my mind to open up to facts and arguments that I could not bear to listen to in the past.

 

I realized that there were only two things that had held me to Christianity during all of this time I had been away from the church. The most obvious one was fear. The insidious one was the mental programming that resulted from being told my whole life that the Christian god was real and the Jesus story that was jammed into my brain for the first half of my life. That combination is what caused my otherwise curious, scientific mind to search only for corroborating evidence and find ways to explain away the parts that did not make sense. I came to the conclusion that I could not believe in the Christian god anymore. That none of it was true. I went to a mirror, looked into my own frightened, bewildered eyes and repeated several times “I am an atheist.” It is not a label I ever thought I would apply to myself.

 

Suddenly, a flood of ramifications of this new belief system washed over me. There was no supernatural force watching over my life and protecting me. There was no powerful being that could comfort me if things go wrong. The people who I have loved who have died were really gone forever and I will never reunite with them. There will be no happy ever after in heaven when I die. Even though I didn’t think about these things regularly in my conscious mind, recognizing them as false comforts was a huge jolt. I can only imagine how much more difficult this would be to accept if I had still been actively engaged in church life.

 

I knew I had to talk to my husband about this, but I was afraid that it would upset him. I couldn’t just keep it inside because it was upsetting me. When he came home from work one night, and we had a moment away from the kids, as my heart pounded in my chest I told him that I thought I was an atheist. He just looked at me and smiled, saying “That’s alright!” That was a relief. But I know he doesn’t totally understand where I am coming from. Later he told me that when he looks at our boys, or thinks about how much he loves me, he “sees” God. Not literally, but that he sees something wonderful and beautiful there and believes that there is something good behind it all. He believes that there is something after this life, and that we will be together in it. He doesn’t try to force these beliefs on me, and it doesn’t impact our marriage. I do know that he wants to take our children to church, but I don’t want to impart that awful mental programming on them. Attending a Unitarian church could be a good compromise if I can bear to attend a church at all. I’m so glad I found this site because I don’t have anyone else to talk to who would really understand what I am going through.

 

I don’t plan to tell my parents because I figure they don’t need to know. They are both die-hard fundamentalists and would be too worried about me if they knew I have lost my faith. My mom would worry silently, but my dad would probably try hard to challenge or even denigrate my beliefs to bring me back to Jesus. My father and I don’t have much of a relationship now (although we are on good terms) and I don’t want the little time we have together to be poisoned by religious discussion. And there is no chance of me returning to the church. I can see that the world makes so much more sense without god in it.

 

As scary as it can be to adapt to life as an ex-Christian atheist, I also feel empowered by it. I see that good things and bad things randomly happen in life, and it’s not part of some messed up game or “master plan”. I know that my accomplishments are my own and not because “God” helped me along the way. Now I can relax and live my life without worrying that I’m not doing enough for “God” or that I’m not tithing enough or that my life doesn’t “glorify” him or any of that other mumbo-jumbo. I realize that you have to tell people that you love them now, because they won’t hear you “from heaven” after they die. And I understand even more now that every single day of life is precious and that I should do my best not to waste a single moment.

 

I know that this is a ridiculously long post, so if you’re still reading, thanks for listening. You will probably not believe that this is the edited, shortened version! I hope that my story can help others in some way.

[Eugene39]

It was enjoyable to read, even if it was ridiculously long! Am glad you wrote it out - welcome to Ex-C.

[Guest Babylonian Dream]

To be honest, I'm sure we could all write a gigantic novel on our experiences from being saved to deconverting. Also, the reason you didn't question the answers, is because like the rest of us, you wanted to believe and see good (and absolutely no bad) in the religion. Welcome aboard! I read it all, very well worth the time reading!

[Positivist]

As scary as it can be to adapt to life as an ex-Christian atheist, I also feel empowered by it. I see that good things and bad things randomly happen in life, and it’s not part of some messed up game or “master plan”.

Welcome to Ex-C! I read your story with great interest and I could really relate to a whole lot of it. It's amazing how long some of us hold on and keep trying to make the pieces fit.

 

Like you, fear kept me in at the tail end of my faith journey. I feel a tremendous peace now, and no fear. I love being an atheist and being an insignificant speck on this amazing planet.

 

I hope to hear more from you!

[blackpudd1n]

I enjoyed reading your extimony I could very much relate to that moment you first realised you were an atheist- I remember it well, for myself. "Me? An atheist?!"

 

Hope to see you around some more

[Margee]

Welcome new2me! Thank you for taking the time to write your story out!! You have been through a lot ...but you are now home. Join the crowd of 'monkeys!! We LOVE being monkeys. Stay with us and we'll show you how to start having fun in your life!!

Great to have you!!

 

Sincerely, Margee

[Guest Babylonian Dream]

Throws a banana to you and the rest of us primates.

[TrueFreedom]

Thanks for sharing, new2me! It's nice to hear that your husband took your change of mind so well. I hope that he keeps a positive demeanor once it really sinks in. And I hope that you work out a good compromise for your kids.

[Thought2Much]

I tried as hard as I could to enjoy this boring routine. I tried as hard as I could to convince myself that it was meaningful. I asked Jesus to bless this time that we spent together so that I could feel his presence. Ultimately, I could not get past the emptiness I felt during this exercise and the acute feeling that I was just talking to the wall when I prayed, so I stopped doing it.

 

I've been there, and done that. For at least a year, I tried to have some sort of morning "quiet time" and Bible study for myself. I read through the entire Bible at least once doing this, and I don't think I ever got anything out of it, except boredom.

 

I had long since tired of banging my head against a wall to figure out how to “feel God’s presence”. I had no remaining desire to tell others about Jesus or attempt to convert them. I was weary of trying to manipulate the facts to make a case for the “truth” of the Christian teachings.

 

I can really identify with these feelings, too. I reached a point where I got pretty resentful toward God, and started thinking to myself, "If God wants people saved, let him do it himself. Why is telling everyone about Jesus my job, anyway?"

 

 

I know that this is a ridiculously long post, so if you’re still reading, thanks for listening. You will probably not believe that this is the edited, shortened version! I hope that my story can help others in some way.

 

Your post was long, but your writing skills made it worth reading. I look forward to reading more from you. Welcome to Ex-C!

[asanerman]

......

I knew I had to talk to my husband about this, but I was afraid that it would upset him. I couldn’t just keep it inside because it was upsetting me. When he came home from work one night, and we had a moment away from the kids, as my heart pounded in my chest I told him that I thought I was an atheist. He just looked at me and smiled, saying “That’s alright!” That was a relief. But I know he doesn’t totally understand where I am coming from. ....

 

It is at this point in your narrative I sense your ambivalent bondage is broken. It is in this act of communicating that the measure of your authentic independence shines through. The final "shattering" of that implicit belief that the world is controlled by others, that others posses a knowledge forever unknowable to you. A belief that, up to this this point has carried with it the humiliating demand for the approval and acceptance of those whom you deem superior i.e. the authorities both human and divine.

 

Instead of another condescending judgement you get a relieving, smile and a“That’s alright!” Not earth shattering yet a relief non the less! You mustered the courage for visibility and got it, even though you feel that "he doesn’t totally understand where I am coming from."

 

To experience the perspective of objectivity through and by means of the reaction and response of another human being is nothing short of emancipating--to be free from restraint, control, and the power of another-- how sweet it is!

 

The way in which I've experience visibility is to be understood by another human being. Mind you, not to be accepted or unconditionally loved but to simply be understood.

 

I'm encouraged by your husband's response!

 

A significant mutuality of intellect, of basic premises and values, of fundamental attitude toward life is the essence of visibility and authentic relationship. Sounds to me like your marriage has the all makings of authentic honoring, and mutual respect!

 

New2me I can only hope that you feel a sense mutuality, a sharing of sentiments, a sense of affinity, and attunement here at Ex-c!

 

Perhaps the relationships you build here will facilitate the unfoldings you, your spouse and your children are already experiencing!

 

Welcome!

 

Good to have you here!

[Geezer]

I realized that there were only two things that had held me to Christianity during all of this time I had been away from the church. The most obvious one was fear. The insidious one was the mental programming that resulted from being told my whole life that the Christian god was real and the Jesus story that was jammed into my brain for the first half of my life. That combination is what caused my otherwise curious, scientific mind to search only for corroborating evidence and find ways to explain away the parts that did not make sense

 

All of our stories contain similarities. At some point many of us realized it was the fear and indoctrination that captured our minds. Once you identify the problem then you can deal with fixing it. The initial problem is identifying what is holding you captive.

 

Telling your story is part of the deprogramming process. Glad you found us & welcome aboard.

[LivingLife]

That is really a good extimony. We all sit with a tad bitterness but in my case it is wasted years and not keeping my eyes on the ball which was/is my family. Plus I tithed really big waay over and above so much so I was like 80% of the church's income at the time. Often they would call and say they need 10 or 12k to make salaries and I would transfer the funds.

 

Over and above that I kitted out the whole P&W team instruments, lighting out of my pocket and installed it too at my expense. So yeah I have a shitload to be bitter about. I drank too much Koolaide. This is like 300-350k over a 4 year period when my business was booming.

 

Just think of how many real and thankful memories (not to mention pics) I could have had if I say spent that on vacations with my kids. So yeah the church experience I had was not a pleasant one. Now I am pretty bad off and god nor the church are anywhere to be seen, that after I also helped distressed families out of my own pocket.

 

It is just one huge mind fuck and there is really no other way to describe it. Pity I cannot sue them.

[freeasabird]

I see a lot of parallels in our stories. Thanks for taking the time to share, and welcome to ex-c.

[Adam5]

Hi new2me, awesome post. Willkommen Bienvenue. I agree a Uninitarian church would be a good compromise. As long as its well away from fundie christainity. just my opinion.

[Akheia]

Welcome, welcome I'm glad you took the time to write all that out, personally. My heart grieved for the little girl in her room who plaintively asked God, again and again, to touch her heart somehow. How crushing that must have felt. If there really were a Yahweh/Jesus, he'd have to be a total, heartless, cruel bastard not to at least do the tiniest little thing for a lonely little child. Gets me furious on your behalf, truly it does.

 

I'm glad you and your husband are on the same basic page about religion and so encouraged to hear that your arrival at the truth didn't cause too much friction and conflict at home. You two are very fortunate in this matter and I'm so happy about how well that worked out! I bet it feels so good to be free.

[tothemorning]

Glad you have arrived New2Me. I am so sorry you travelled that path... It really is amazing how all of us have come here as a result of being a silent minority and painful product of a religious environment.

[ShackledNoMore]

Welcome, new2me. That was a great eximony. Now I've just added Monkey Girl to my reading list and I'm looking forward to reading it!

[new2me]

Thanks everyone for your kind replies - I really appreciate the encouragement.

 

I actually don't feel angry or bitter about my experiences, although I probably should! Maybe I haven't gotten to that part of the deprogramming process yet. It does make me sad to think about how I could have lived my younger days with so much more freedom if I hadn't been chained to the myths of Christianity, but I also realize that even without those issues I still had a lot of growing up and self-discovery to do. I'm just glad I've gotten to the place where I am now. It does feel good to be free.

 

And I am also so glad that I have such a wonderful husband to share my life with. I'm glad that I waited for the right guy... it was a long wait! Even if we are never totally on the same page regarding our beliefs, I know that he will respect my feelings and not let it mess up our marriage. I know this makes me very lucky.

 

Again, thanks so much for your responses. I feel very welcome here!

[blackpudd1n]

I actually don't feel angry or bitter about my experiences, although I probably should! Maybe I haven't gotten to that part of the deprogramming process yet. It does make me sad to think about how I could have lived my younger days with so much more freedom if I hadn't been chained to the myths of Christianity, but I also realize that even without those issues I still had a lot of growing up and self-discovery to do. I'm just glad I've gotten to the place where I am now. It does feel good to be free.

 

Not all of us do go through the bitterness stage, so there's nothing wrong with not going through it. Your experience is your own, and while there is often a common theme to our stories and our paths, they are all unique in their own way. I probably would have felt bitter had things gone differently with my sister when I came out of the closet. I can certainly understand how some people may feel bitter, when they lose their partners or are put through a lot of hardship by their family members hounding them. I pretty much managed to escape all of that. Where you are at is where you are at. Being in a different place to others does not mean you are any less of an ex-christian, nor that your story has less merit than anyone else's here, okay?