Blinders Off

This sculpture  by Zenos Frudakis is entitled “Freedom,”  and it illustrates, perfectly, my journey to freedom, and the journey of many others now set free.  For me, it was not only religion, but also marriage (although it was my religious beliefs that kept me in a marriage that was no longer working), and for the first time in my life I am free to rediscover who I am and live in that. It’s hard for me to even believe how bound I was, but I don’t ever want to completely forget, otherwise I might lose compassion for those still bound, but, man,  it feels good!  When one lets go of religious dogma, their whole world changes and only those who have been there know what I mean. Religious dogma and a marriage that was long over, stifled me, bound me crippled me.  No more and it is grand!

I think I now understand where some of my ex-Christian friends are coming from when they start struggling with the direction they want to take in their writing. More and more I find myself wondering if I should continue this blog or go off in a completely different direction. When I was first going through my de-conversion, I wrote and wrote and wrote about it—how I felt, how others responded to it, how I responded back. Now, it isn’t such a huge part of my life—as evidenced by my lack of postings. Part of me wants to move on to something different, but I am also very aware that there are those who are still in the process of de-converting and I want to be there for them. I want to do for them, what others did for me, and still do at times. So what does one do? Perhaps supporting others in the process of de-conversion is, in a way, moving on. Instead of focusing solely on how de-conversion has affected me, I can focus more on how it is affecting those just beginning their journey or in a place of struggle along the way.

When I encounter someone in the midst of losing his or her faith, or as I call it, gaining clarity, I find myself in a difficult position. It’s a bit like someone asking me if having a baby is a good idea. Part of me wants to tell them, go ahead, it will be awesome, and another part of me wants to say, if you like your life the way it is, don’t do it, because life as you know it will never be the same. Relationships will suffer, some will be lost, new ones gained, and you have to reset how you live your life, BUT, you will have this wonderful baby that is worth all of it, because your life suddenly has a dimension that adds a depth and richness you never could have imagined, albeit in the midst of chaos ☺. 
It’s great to be in the position of supporting those leaving their faith, but I also know what it will entail, and although each situation is unique, it is never easy.  When someone in the process of de-converting asks about my experience, I have to go back to the baby analogy. Giving birth is the most painful experience I have ever encountered and it is the same for those de-converting. In both circumstances, I would give the same advice, I would have to say, “well, you are going to need to be very strong and constantly remind yourself that if you can make it through this most difficult part, it will be worth it.” In some cases, the “getting to the good part” doesn’t take long, but sometimes, it can seem to last for an eternity and it takes a special amount of stamina to make it to the start of that new and amazing life. I have to admit that because I fully understand all that leaving the faith entails, I worry about those beginning their journey. Some are so fragile and frightened, as I was, and I am fully aware of just how vulnerable one becomes during the process. There were times, when I felt as if I didn’t want to go on, it was just too much, but along would come some fellow de-convert to say, “yeah, I know, and you and I can get through this together. I’m here for you.” Just writing this has helped clarify things. I need to remain an encourager to those wanting to leave Christianity. Those who have never been entrapped by religion can encourage Christians leaving the faith to a certain extent, but they don’t fully understand why it is so difficult and the cost involved in doing so. As an ex-Christian, I know all to well what leaving involves. Those of us who have left Christianity are in a unique position to help. I don’t ever want to forget what it was like to be a Christian and what it was like to leave, so here I’ll stay until I feel at peace moving away from that.  Maybe I never will, but more and more it isn’t all about me, but more about others and that feels good. So, to the dear brave souls that are beginning to see the light of rationality, get ready to white knuckle it through some tough times, but I promise you I will do my best to stand by you and the freedom, the openness, and the happiness that comes, eventually, will be well worth it. Hang in.

On the day my god died, we died too.

Counting the cost, I never thought to factor us in.

You and I

The one true thing–sisters that always endure.

You traded us in for an imaginary god–our laughter for empty praise

Our love for worthless worship.

Your angry and bitter god rewrote our story and you bought it.

You bought the lie and sold it to others.

I loved you, was there for you, kept your secrets, held your hand.

We shared everything–Why not this?

No  matter.

Your dividing devil deemed me evil–evil I am.

With your Jesus sword you separated us–marrow from bone

Your blind blinking eyes looking up for reassurance

Reassurance you have created—only you.

Sing your praise songs.

Quote your scripture.

Continue to comfort yourself.

While our sisterly skeleton lies stinking in the sun.

You bend and scrape to your god for my salvation

Yet it is you

Unsaved.

Unmerciful.

Unreal.

And it is I

Completely happy,

Truly whole

Finally free.

She’s beautiful, with big, brown, soulful eyes, that could melt any heart.  She’s creative, imaginative, funny, loves people and animals freely—she hurts deeply.  She’s bi-polar.  It’s very difficult to have a child that is sick, but even more difficult when people, due to ignorance, doubt the seriousness and even the validity of her diagnosis, or even worse give advice that could cost her, her life.  One may wonder what this has to do with de-conversion or religion, but stay with me—it does.   My daughter fought hard not to take medication for her brain imbalance and at first I supported her.  She was raised in an anti-medication family and I still believe that natural is usually better, but it became more and more evident that nothing was working.  After her second suicide attempt, and a stint in a psych ward, she decided that living on meds was better than dying without them.  It’s hard for her to stay on them.  The side effects can be brutal at times and I live in fear that she will stop, which leads me to the religion aspect of this.  Yesterday, on my daughter’s facebook wall, a “friend” wrote this: “You dont need a psychiatrist, God cures all….trust me. Hit me up if you wanna know how! beats all the side effects from the MAOIs!”

As an agnostic, I was offended, as a mother—livid and that is putting it mildly.  It took every bit of self-control not to go after this person.  She is a customer at my daughter’s store, so I let her be, but it was difficult to do so.  Thankfully, my daughter is unaffected by the “gospel message,” but what if she, out of desperation, got sucked back into this idea of a personal god that heals all that ails if you simply trust in him?  I know there are people who have and it has cost them their lives.  It reminded me of just how damaging religion and a belief in a personal god, that is able to intervene on our behalf, can be.  If I had the opportunity to talk with this “friend,” this is what I would say:  “You suggest to my daughter that there is a “better” way (Jesus) than taking medication and following doctor’s orders.  You suggest taking meds is bad for her and perhaps that she is sick because she doesn’t have god in her life.  Let me ask you this: Would you suggest to a friend with diabetes or cancer to just trust in Jesus or God?  I don’t think you would—at least I hope not.  By telling my daughter that all she needs is Jesus or God is irresponsible at the very least.   Are you willing, after she forgoes treatment, to take responsibility for her?  Are you willing to take the phone calls in the middle of the night, to sit with her in the emergency room and watch people treat her like an animal because she attempted suicide?  Are you willing to visit her in the psych ward when she gets sent there—bring her clothes and shoes to wear and hold her hand?  Are you willing to pay her medical bills and let her live with you after she loses her job?  Most importantly, are you willing to stand at her graveside with me, look me in the eye and share the love of Jesus with me when the pain becomes too much for her to bear?”  Yep, that’s what I would say.  Okay, I feel a little better now, but the temptation to cut and paste my little rant into the comment box on facebook is still pretty strong right now…I should probably pray for self-control…

“I’m sorry to say that we need to transfer your son to a hospital with a trauma center as soon as possible.  The MRI has revealed two skull fractures, with bleeding.  He needs to be where a neurosurgeon is close by.”  I was stunned.  He seemed fine just an hour or so ago.  He was walking and talking.  Everyone thought he was okay.  He wasn’t.  After a harrowing drive to the local ER, he now lay on a gurney, barely responsive and suffering.

After he was transferred to UC Davis, I sat next to him in their trauma ER—numb.  I had no cell service, no way to let people know what was going on.   I was alone.  Sometimes at my most vulnerable moments, my past indoctrination will kick in and old tapes will begin to play in my head.  “I should pray’” I thought. I was desperate and I considered reaching out to the God I no longer believed in.  Should I pray now and ask God to help us?  I stopped, walked over and stroked my son’s arm—so strong, so tall, so good looking, so funny and full of life just hours ago. Fear gave way to anger and  I prayed: “Really god?  Really?  Is this how you work?  Nicely done!”   My head cleared–the spell broken–there is no god.”  My rational mind reminded me of a simple fact:  Noah had an unfortunate accident; there was no god looking down on us, deciding that a tragedy would be the best way to bring us back to him.  Suddenly I felt relieved.  Things happen, some good things, some bad; this was not some sort of test or punishment.  It was the luck of the draw and now Noah needed the best medical care available.  He needed his mom to be strong for him. That’s when they walked into the room, like super heros to save the day– Noah’s trauma team.

I quickly came to the conclusion that these were the people I needed to put my faith in—a group of young, smart and hard working women and men who had sacrificed time and energy to finish medical school and dedicate their lives to helping someone like Noah.  As they began to examine him, they were encouraged by what they saw.  They explained the extent of his injuries and what to expect in the next few days.  They were optimistic.  I felt myself relax.  There would be no miracle, no answered prayer that night, only talented doctors, medical staff and a very strong and healthy 15-year-old boy who would do the work.  Without another prayer uttered, the bleeding stopped and surgery was avoided.  Over the next few weeks, the love, support and positive energy of good friends and family would aid in Noah’s recovery and my physical and mental health as well.

While at the hospital, I posted what was going on, on my facebook wall.  It was really my only way of communicating to the outside world, because I did not want leave ICU.  My first communication said something like, “Noah is in ICU at UC Davis with a brain injury, we would appreciated your positive thoughts and prayers.”   Yes, I said “prayers.”    I had actually hesitated before  using that word, but to me prayer means putting love and positive thoughts into the universe and I wanted as much of that as possible.  I assumed that even my Christian friends, knowing what I believed and didn’t believe, would respect that.  I should have known better. Some Christians saw it as a glimmer of hope that I was turning back to God and Jesus and because of some of their responses, I couldn’t take it anymore and I was forced to address the concept of prayer, most specifically Christian prayer and what I thought of it, and….well…. let’s just say things got ugly. Christians don’t want you to stand up for your beliefs unless they are in agreement with theirs, otherwise you are mean, hurtful and hateful.  For now, I am just so grateful that Noah is very much on the mend and we got through our ordeal without a prayer chain, a pastor visit, or a mythical god doling out miracles when it suits his fancy.  We got through it with the love, support and positivity of loved ones who came along side us in very tangible ways.   I have  more to say about that, but I will have to save it for my next blog post which I have tentatively entitled, “Jesus! Stop with the Prayers Already!

So,  a couple weeks back, I finished up my reasons for leaving Christianity on facebook and am happy to move on to different topics there, although I do share an article or video from time to time that might be considered “controversial.”

As I mentioned in an earlier blog, some of my Christian facebook friends engaged me on my wall.  Not to find understanding or common ground, but to argue.  As time went on and my arguments for leaving more complex, their comments stopped for the most part.  Once the comments stopped, I did write that I was surprised that my Christian friends weren’t coming forward to defend their beliefs given there were so many non believers on my wall and it was a great opportunity for them.  That produced  two comments to the tune of, it’s my faith and I believe it and I won’t try and defend it here.  Translation:  “I have no defense against your reasoning—so, I will play my faith card now—try and argue against that!”  Okay, fair enough.

In my last status post, I tried to tie everything up in a big bow.  There was so much I would have liked to have said, but I tried to summarize.  The last part of the post went like this:  “There’s just one last bit of business I need to take care of and that’s to quickly mention the things that had nothing to do with my de-conversion in the hope that I can quell some of the rumors that have been going around. I’m sorry to say that much of the gossip that has been swirling about the church community gets back to me and that probably hurts more than anything, but it is the Christian way, isn’t it?

So in closing, let me address those directly:  I did not reject Christianity because I am mad at god, at people, or because I wanted to commit some sin. I did not de-convert because of my divorce, nor did I divorce because of my de-conversion. I did not de-convert because I was pre, mid, postmenopausal or hormonally imbalanced in some other way. I am not a lesbian (I like lesbians, but I am not one) and I did not have an affair. Hmmm…let’s see, I think that about covers it. Oh, and please refrain from having any more prayer gatherings for me, which involve invites that are sent over the Internet mentioning me by name and my state of apostasy. People are way to liberal with the forward button, and it is an invasion of my privacy.

So, to my dear Christian friends, I have now put forth my reasons for leaving as succinctly as I can. It is on you now to take me at my word.”

I received few comments on that last post, and the ones I did receive, were positive.

I feel good.  I feel strong.  I never thought I would have ever had the courage to write the things I did and yet, here I am.     The best part about all this is the people I have encouraged in their de-conversion and those I have given renewed strength to.  I received so many private messages in that regard and that, my friend, makes it all worthwhile.

After beginning my “Blinders Off” blog and most recently my quest on Facebook, many have asked the question, why do I do it?  Why can’t I just leave it all behind and move on?  Do I really need to talk/write about it so much?  I have lots of answers for those questions, three of which are, 1) Leaving it all behind would mean leaving family and friends behind that are still stuck in the quagmire of Christianity, 2)  If it hadn’t been for other ex-Christians writing and talking about their journeys, I don’t know if I would have made it out, not alive anyway and I’m not being dramatic here. I believe it is my turn to step up and be there for those coming behind me, and 3) It’s the way I roll.

Anyway, as I started giving my reasons for leaving the faith on my Facebook wall, I began getting private messages from fellow ex-Christians.  One in particular really struck a chord in me and I got permission from them to post it here.  It’s their explanation for their need to speak and write against the harmfulness of religion.  This person had been steeped in fundamentalist Christianity since birth and has just recently de-converted.  I think it pretty much sums things up.

“My Top 10 Reasons Why I Am Compelled”

1. It’s not right. I’m a problem solver by nature and that is how I probably end up taking on too much in my life…I see things that aren’t ‘right’ and I feel the need to try to fix them. This is how I end up running youth football leagues, administering school wide state testing, and managing dance companies…for free. The Christian belief system is a monumental example of something that is ‘just not right’ and of course I wish I could fix it. Yes, tilting at windmills comes to mind when I think about that, but a small voice in my head also says that Martin Luther King Jr. had a dream and envisioned life in a very different way. He was right and it happened. I guess I have a dream too. I know I’m not MLK but I also know I should try in my own small way.

2. It’s not right that people are wasting their lives in bondage to a religious system that makes people second-guess every thought they have and every action they do. They are not living. They exist as passive observers in their own life and have become a reflection of the expectations of others instead of the real person inside.

3. It’s not right that children are indoctrinated into a belief system without having a choice in their own destiny.

4. It’s not right that children grow up with the belief that they are desperately wicked, deserving of eternal torment, and taught to mistrust and ignore their own inner voice.

5. It’s not right that millions of young teen age boys go to bed each night only to experience mental torment over touching their own bodies, believe that it is a sin to feel sexually attracted to a woman, and are dismayed at the idea that their sexual thoughts have the power to harm and defraud their female friends, family, and acquaintances.

6. It’s not right that millions of young teen age girls are taught that their bodies do not belong to themselves, that they exist to help and please someone else, that their sexuality is not designed to develop individually but is to be a reflection of what their husband wants, that it is right for someone to rule over them, and that a career automatically means they are neglecting their family.

7. It’s not right that millions of teens are indoctrinated into wearing purity rings because ‘just don’t do it’ is so much easier than helping kids understand and handle their own sexuality.

8. It’s not right that millions of people are being taught that loving someone and wanting to build a life with them is only valid if that person possesses body parts that are different than theirs.

9. It’s not right that millions of kids will go to church sponsored Halloween haunted houses and view such graphic and shocking images that they run the risk of being traumatized for life. It’s not right that kids cry alone at night because they are afraid people they love will die and go to hell.

10. It’s just not right.