It used to be I went to church every Sunday. Often on a couple of days during the regular week, too. It was something that was so incredibly common in my Christian family where we followed the only right religion. It was something that was so well bread into my family that none of us had broken from it for generations. If we had it was back in the days when it was still legal to stone your children for disobeying you. Sometimes even legal to stone those in a very Christian town where even the smallest thing you did against Him was worth stoning you over.
I was broken of this belief about two years ago. I had been mentally and physically abused by a boyfriend of mine. I was raped by many of his friends who paid him for my services. I was completely broken from that. Even now I couldn’t stand the thought of ever dating again because of what he had done and what he had let his friends do. I suffered badly during that year we were together in ways the general population could understand. The people that could come close would be those who had seen war and not even they came close to feeling the same pain that I did and still do. Even the small amount of therapy I had done in groups hadn’t helped me. For me, that was the same thing as mental death.
My Christianity had done nothing to heal my mind, in my mind the fact that a single all knowing God had done something that had almost killed me in an attempt to test my faith in Him was impossible for my mind to bear. I only held the name of that religion because it was what my family had followed for so long. We even owned slaves at one point because of one of our very own biblical stories. That bible had dictated everything I had done for so long, had controlled everything that happened to me up to that point in my mind.
During one of my support groups I had met a girl who had claimed to be Pagan and seemed to be as serious with her religion as I had been before then. I learned everything I could from her and often snuck books home from the library to keep my family from finding them. I needed their support in a way while I was exploring a possible new religion for myself that they wouldn’t approve of. I learned more than I could ever possibly imagine about a single religion. What surprised me the most was the fact that Gods and Goddesses where whatever I wanted them to be. I could believe they where the air molecules I was breathing, they could be the animals around me, they could be the trees, they could even be the many deities I heard in my history and literature classes. They where honestly whatever I wanted them to be.
I decided to meditate and follow it with as much fervor as I could. I found what I felt was the best thing for me and followed it as strongly as I could. I understood every aspect of my worship and could dictate it for myself; I needed no good book dictating what I needed to do. I didn’t need a church full of people telling me what was the absolute truth that I needed to be listening to. I still continue to go to church now. My family still supports me since I still do have to rely on them to financially support me until my eighteenth birthday passed six months from today. Then I will come out of the “broom closet” and show them what true faith in religion could truly do for a person.