De, Conversion, De, De Conversion!

I don't have some crazy deconversion story, where I suddenly saw the light and gave up my religious ways. I don't even really remember it. I know that when I was younger, around 12 or 13, I just kind of stopped believing. It was awkward to be living in a small town in Iowa (about 3,500 people) where everyone went to church and I'd never even met an atheist. The big blow came when I finally had the guts to tell my mom that I didn't believe in God, so I didn't feel right going to confirmation classes at our church anymore, and her answer was...go anyway. I couldn't believe it. I told her how dishonest it was for me to continue with the classes and be confirmed in the church when I didn't believe, but she just said I should do it anyway because I might regret it in the future if I didn't. In my reasoning, if I did become a Christian later, I would be mortified that I had gotten in front of the congregation and lied to everyone about my faith. But, as a 14-year-old kid, there wasn't much I could do in the way of defying my mom. So I kept going to church, kept going to classes, until I was confirmed. And since I was the best reader in the class (as well as the most well-behaved, and the one who listened the most), I was asked to read the scripture in front of the whole church. After that, I never went to Immanuel Lutheran Church again, except for weddings and funerals.

I think what bothered me most about my mom insisting that I go, is that I thought it was more for her than for me. She didn't want the rest of our town to see that she had raised a nonbeliever. It might have reflected badly on her. It felt like a betrayal, for her to pick the town's opinion over my mental and spiritual well-being.

All of my friends at the time were religious, with the majority being evangelical Christians. I would go to church with them sometimes, because it was kind of fun, and at least I got to be hanging out with my friends.

I've struggled for most of my life with suicidal depression, and during one really low point in high school (I think in sophomore year?), I thought I found God at an evangelical retreat in Des Moines. Or, to put a finer point on it, I wanted to find God. I wanted so badly for there to be a reason to live, for there to be someone who loved me unconditionally, for there to be a heaven, that I really tried to convert. I cried while everyone told me I was saved and welcomed me into their arms. I started going to Bible study more often with my friends. My depression lifted enough for me to not want to die anymore.

Gradually though, I came to realize that I had just needed something, anything, to drag me out of the hole I was falling into. It could've been a boyfriend, it could've been a vacation, or it could've been God. Religion was just the first thing to show up at my door.

So, I've been God-free since about 1998, and I couldn't be happier with my life and those who are a part of it.