WARNING: I’m not trying to get into any sort of debate, this is just how I feel about religion.

I never talk about religion but the time has come to open up about it.

Religion isn’t important to me.

At all.

In fact, I actually have religious trauma as a kid.

Most of my childhood was full of going to a small church with a charismatic leader.

Take that as you will, but I call it a cult.

But I grew up not being able to listen to secular music or watch television shows or movies due to witchcraft and wizardry, yet went to a secular, public school.

It was all very confusing.

And I had questions for the church that would just get me in trouble.

And I had questions for school that would send me into tears.

It’s really triggering because the acronym for my therapist office is “RCA” and that was the church acronym that I grew up in too, “RCA”.

And my therapist said “RCA” yesterday in group, so did someone else, not thinking about it (because who does besides me) and it really got to me.

It’s odd, I just realized that halfway through group I got extremely tired.

Like, utterly exhausted suddenly.

So tired that I had to close my eyes for a few seconds a couple of times in group.

I shut the fuck down.

And it was soon after we talked a bit about spirituality and how hope isn’t an emotion.

Because it’s not and I still have hope, but not spirituality.

It feels like they want me to be someone they think I should be, and I should be at least spiritual, right?

They think that they have all the answers.

Problem is, everyone thinks that.

Just because I don’t believe in god, doesn’t make me inherently bad or anything.

I hated the church growing up.

And that’s all we did in my childhood, was go to church.

Everything revolved around it.

It felt mean and cruel, church did.

It felt cold and isolating.

And I was taught that god is an omnipresent entity to be feared and scared of.

He was something to be terribly freighted of.

Not all caring and loving.

Not nurturing and calm.

But burning fire and endless pits of doom and destruction.

I grew up being forced to speak in tongues sometimes before I could go to sleep.

Still not really understanding what that means to this day.

Other than it being your personal language that only god can understand, I get it or whatever.

I guess I just really don’t care about it.

And if that sends me to “hell” – if it exists, then so be it.

I’m a good person and if god can’t see that, I really don’t care and don’t want to be part of that group anyway.

And god should be understanding.

She should know what I’ve gone through and how that filters my viewpoints, just like everyone else.

And, like everyone else, my childhood was out of my control.

And if god is forgiving, she’ll let me be mad then, and let me feel what I need to, and not judge me for it.

Even the concept of spirituality turns me off, honestly.

When people say “well, are you at least spiritual if you’re not religious?”

Half the time I say yes just so they’ll stop talking about it.

It seems to give some people a sense of peace if you just agree with them on some things.

And I don’t know why it makes others warm and fuzzy to know someone is spiritual if they’re not religious.

Like how could I not be one or the other?

Sometimes I say I’m spiritual just to shut the conversation down.

They think it’s scary or something, I’m not entirely sure.

I used to not be able to stand the word “god” even.

Oh, it would send me into seeing red and I’d go blind with rage.

I’d lecture people on how they need to be more careful because those of us with religious trauma don’t want to hear about their god or jesus.

(Sorry Dad, this is just how I feel, love you.)

And I think religion is beautiful in some ways.

It’s not that I think it’s terrible or something.

I wish I had a sense of community like church gives people.

I think it’s wonderful.

But the last time I went to a church in 2018 on Easter, when living in Denver, I had a giant panic attack and ran out of the church crying and practically screaming with my buddy gathering our things in my wake and following me out.

It was a horrible, dreadful, suffocating feeling.

But they were dancing in the aisles to loud, live christian music and they did that at “RCA” too.

And the pastor at “RCA” wouldn’t even baptize me as a kid.

He refused because I wasn’t “ready or able to accept the lord jesus christ as my savior”, according to the pastor.

I was like, six or seven years old.

I wasn’t “ready” for a lot of things at that age.

So, fuck that guy.

I don’t need to be baptized anyway.

I’m grateful he never did it now.

I know where I stand with it all and I’m at a good place with it at this point in my life.

Just days like yesterday, where certain triggering words kept coming up, I get upset and shut down.

Even Sean (my therapist) pulled me aside after group today because he could tell that I shut down.

Which I appreciate the time out to chat for a minute.

I told him about all this, and he gets it.

It’s just triggering and here I come home and decide to make a day of it and write about it the rest of the afternoon and next day.

And sometimes I long for a sense of community like the ones religion can bring.

I just can’t stop rolling my eyes at people who believe.

There was someone the other week who commented on one of my posts talking about how jesus is there for me or whatever and I almost deleted it.

I didn’t because they were nice, I just didn’t care for the religion speak as much as they didn’t care for my fucking cussing.

So, I figured we were even that way.

But religion does get an eye roll and sigh from me and will every time because I don’t believe that there’s some dude sitting in the clouds giving kids and dogs cancer and letting wars rage on.

And then damning those that don’t “believe” or don’t know about him.

I call bullshit.

I don’t think it’s like that at all.

And it may be.

If that’s what happens when we die, I’ll gladly retract all of my statements.

Until then I continue living and complaining and writing.

There are some things in life that just aren’t for me.

Religion is one of those things, so is the acronym “RCA”.

– Keren