JOURNAL: Young Catholicism and All That It Entails

I grew up with it.

I still remember happily reading my pink bible that my mother put in my hands, not understanding exactly what I was reading, but being happy that I was making her happy.

I remember dressing for church every Sunday, loving the excuse to wear the cute girly dresses and shoes just for the occasion, only to despise the proceedings- not understanding why we were at this place for so long, being the most happy when we left and I could still wear my fancy garb.

I remember being dropped off at a Catholic School for pre-k and kindergarten, loving my friends, my teachers, the crafts, the play; and starting to understand what they were trying to tell me. About a creator, a "man" above everyone; a holy entity. And starting to understand just how little I cared.

I remember the first day my sweet mother dropped me off late to Catholic school. That was the day I changed. My lovely mother ushered me from the car and I ran up the steps to my classroom; only to realize the door was locked. I was confused, but young and without a mother or parent, so I sat outside the door and waited. And waited. Until I saw my teacher and class coming back from the mandatory church day that slipped my mind in the haste of the morning. They didn't even notice as I slipped back in line and went inside.

I remember how that was the first moment of my true understanding. That I did not like Catholicism, the belief of a god, the lessons about it, and most importantly: the forced activity of going to church. I finally understood everything about it from my teachings and the day I missed church; an act so small and accidental yet so profound that taught me I finally was free to make up my mind.

I did not like what I was being taught. And I did not believe it. And most importantly I realized I had a choice in the matter.

So from then on it was small resistance at a young age. I pretended to be late every church day, (my mom and teachers none the wiser) I did not read what I was assigned, I listened but did not learn, and instead focused my energies on being a kid and loving the freedom that came with play and classmates and being friendly with my teachers, doing just enough work to get good grades but being sneaky enough not to read anything religious I didn't want too.

But even with my resistance, I never said a word about my disdain to anyone.

My parents drilled the lesson to be a "good girl" into me so hard that I never even had the thought to tell them I did not believe in god, that I hated the religion, and every word they taught me about it felt like a very mundane and boring lie. I was the good kid. I was the sibling who cared for others, who acted too mature for her age, who was always the teachers pet, who read above her grade and had a huge heart; it never crossed my mind to be anything other than sneaky about my thoughts even at a young age, because of the expectations placed on my shoulders.

And so church days came and went without me and I reveled in my secrecy. I tested out my newfound act of secrecy, lying about making a fellow classmate upset and knowing the teachers had no reason not to believe me. Lying to my mom about attending the church days. Lying to my pastor about my "confessions" on the days I was taken to in fact, confess my sins once a month. I distinctly remember thinking to myself "I have done nothing wrong and have nothing to confess", and telling the priest as such, but he didn't believe me; so I said a whole slew of things that weren't true to appease his image. I didn't feed the dog. I don't do all my homework. I don't do my chores. All things which were in fact untrue; I would never let anything stop me from obeying my parents every command at that age. I was the good girl. He told me to say three hail marys (a prayer I was supposed to have learn through my attendance in church but I did not know) and so I went outside, folded my hands, and looked up at the sky, talking to myself in my head about how stupid it was.

I got "angel of the month" at some point. A reward for the best students and the best angels of god. I loved the attention and the validation of my goodness never once feeling an ounce of guilt or regret for my lack of faith.

It was when my parents couldn't pay for private catholic school when our strict faith lessened and my freedom opened up. The first day I set foot into public school, where I did not have to hear about the Christian god ever again, I knew that I was never going back.

By third grade my parents gave it up. My mom was the one holding the whole family together and the act of church was mainly for her, to do as she was taught growing up; but being told your mom and dad are getting divorced in the middle of third grade kind of destroys the family outings to the Church where they intently frown upon divorce- especially when my mom was someone so involved with the community. How could she go back?

Fast forward now. Stay with me.

My mom now believes, in the year 2024, in the spiritual life, but as an agnostic. Touching only slightly into spiritual readings and connections with the after life. We still celebrate Christmas and Easter but no one cares or even thinks about God. We as a family all are now united in the mindset that we do not believe in Catholicism and in fact do not care for it. My mom tempts us with agnostic talk of spirits, but we don't mind. Our whole family has a small disdain we now carry for any type of religion now that we are free from the shackles and rules of Christianity, and my mother carries the shunning of her divorce with her still when ever the topic comes up. Her mind is now more free and open to ponder what she actually believes in and why, and me and my siblings choose not to be religious and carry our disdain like a dark passenger with us.

Only now my sister lost a pet. She got dumped by a heavily religious boy who said his connection to Jesus was the reason he couldn't be with her. She is lonely and searching for something to fill a void, and she is now telling us she is looking into God. Orthodox Christianity and Church are now the main topic of her OCD hazed focus.

And I realized something about myself the second she told us.

I am no longer the good girl. I no longer hold my tongue. My life, my development, and my free will are too strong. But I still have a big heart.

Which is why when the immediate reaction of "Ugh" to her announcement came out of my mouth I felt instant regret. But then I realized why I said it. I felt my heart darken. I no longer was just a person who was choosing to not be religious; I hated it.

I hated organized religion. Most importantly, Christianity. The way I felt as a kid rushed back and suddenly I was just a small girl being told how to act, what to believe, what to read, what to hate, who to hate, who to love, what science to believe. And that's all I now see; the lies, the rules, the suffocating nature of the perfect religious girl.

And I am no longer the perfect girl or the perfect daughter, or even the perfect sister. For if I was I would not have shared my disdain to my whole family about her choice, or felt such anger and hate in my heart.

I no longer feel happy making others happy. I understand it all and I can't go back.

I no longer revel in secrecy or have control but most importantly, I realized something else.

The little girl who kept quiet about her true thoughts. The one who lied, who skipped church, who let everything happen to her freely without a word otherwise; she was unhappy. She thought she was doing the right thing but she was wrong. She is the reason I cannot seem to feel anything but hate for any organized religion. She is still inside me; but now she is angry. She realized just how much freedom she was stripped of and how furious it all truly made her.

And so me and my little self are entwined together for eternity.

She controls me and I control her.

And every day my sister leans more into organized religion, she and I will fight for control of my heart and my words. Will it fill with goodness and stay silent and supportive? Will it become sharp and angry and step out of line?

Christianity and all that it entails will never again be my religion, but I wonder if one day, the hate in my heart will fade and I can do right by the little girl in me and my sister.

I wonder if one day the way I was raised and my past will not affect me so deeply today.

I wonder.