Joe From South Carolina

Joe From South Carolina

by | Feb 8, 2024 | Stories

In the heart of South Carolina, cradled by the unwavering embrace of the Bible Belt, my story begins. My name is Joe Joe, born into the rigid doctrines of a Calvinist church, a world that felt more confining than sanctified. By the age of six, my family transitioned to another church, shrouded in tradition yet pulsating with growth, for reasons that remained a mystery to me.

From an early age, I was told I possessed a gift—an innate understanding of spiritual matters that seemed to transcend my youthful innocence. At nine, I heard a still small voice and knew who I was talking to. I welcomed Jesus into my heart, experiencing what felt like scales falling off my body. In that moment of divine whisper, I understood my calling. Approaching the altar, a transformation enveloped me; I encountered a spirit that radiated light, marking the beginning of my intimate dance with the spiritual realm. Yet, this gift, this sight into the unseen, became my cross to bear, drawing punishment rather than praise.

My teenage years were a tapestry of devotion, woven with threads of church, school, and a quest for belonging. The church became my refuge, a sanctuary where I plunged into the depths of the Bible, seeking answers, seeking myself. As high school unfolded, my spirit grew restless. The teachings that filled the church halls clashed with the whisperings of my heart, prompting a clandestine exploration of beliefs that lay beyond my Christian upbringing.

Employment as a janitor at fifteen marked the beginning of a struggle with self-worth, a battle against the gnawing fear of inherent evilness. This feeling, a shadow that trailed my every step, led me to praise God for sparing my unworthy soul. College offered a brief respite, a glimmer of hope that I was on the right path, yet the old fears returned, driving me back to the familiarity of janitorial work and retail, back to the search for redemption.

In this period of wandering, I encountered healing philosophies and practices, clinging to the hope that becoming a healer could reconcile my humanity with my spirituality. Yet, the path was fraught with pitfalls—addictions that ensnared me, a marriage strained by my inability to provide, and a deepening chasm of depression and suicidal thoughts.

It was in the darkest of nights that the light of realization dawned upon me. In the company of fellow souls at a rehab center, I discovered strength in vulnerability, power in the human spirit unchained by the need for divine intervention. This revelation was a beacon, guiding me through the tumult of returning to old ways, through the heartache of separation from my wife.

In the solitude of a friend’s kindness, a question whispered by that still, small voice shattered my world: “Do babies go to hell?” This inquiry unraveled the tightly wound doctrines of my upbringing, propelling me on a journey through “Healing the Shame that Binds You,” where I found solace in my humanity, in the intrinsic goodness of simply being.

My quest for answers led me to “The Body Keeps the Score,” a tome that illuminated the path to self-discovery. Reconciliation with my wife marked a new chapter, one of healing, understanding, and relentless pursuit of truth. The deconstruction community, while a beacon of freedom, cast shadows of doubt on my spiritual journey, yet I emerged from the spiral of shame with a profound realization: Truth resides in fragments scattered across the tapestry of beliefs.

Today, I stand at the crossroads of faith and doubt, embracing reincarnation, acknowledging Jesus not as deity but as a guide, a soul advanced along the path of enlightenment. My journey has taught me the beauty of uncertainty, the grace of being wrong, and the liberation of discovering my authentic self.

In the end, my story is not one of abandonment but of transformation—a testament to the resilience of the human spirit, seeking, questioning, and ultimately finding peace in the mosaic of existence.

April From South Carolina

April From South Carolina

by | Feb 5, 2024 | Stories

My name is April, and this is my journey, my unravelling, my becoming.

I was born into a world of Sunday sermons and amens, where the gospel hymns were as familiar to me as lullabies. My mother likes to say I was in church the Sunday after I was born, as if the sanctuary knew my name before I did. Church wasn’t just a building; it was my universe, with its stars being the eyes of the congregation, each one expecting me to shine back in Christian faith.

When I was twelve, I was baptized. The water was cool, the choir’s song was warm, but my heart? It was somewhere in between, caught in a limbo I couldn’t yet name. They said baptism was a seal of belief, but it felt more like a question mark that kept surfacing, no matter how deep I tried to bury it.

High school years spun around me in a whirlwind of conservative values, set within the walls of a Christian private school. “Conservative” was a label handed to me, one that I wore before even knowing what it truly meant. I parroted views that were never mine to begin with, the echoes of expectations. But then, in the quiet corners of the internet, I found whispers of different ideas, and they planted seeds of doubt that started to take root within me.

The real change came in July 2018, when I was sent to a Christian therapeutic boarding school, a world away from everything I knew. There, in the most unexpected of places, I was introduced to a kaleidoscope of worldviews that shattered my monochrome vision of faith. Mindfulness, meditation, and the serene teachings of Buddhism breathed into me a new kind of life. For the first time, I felt a peace that was mine, not borrowed or imposed.

Coming home was like trying to fit the ocean back into a bottle. My family quickly snuffed out any mention of my newfound practices, insisting we stick to our Christian roots. The freedom I’d tasted was replaced with a familiar confinement, and the dissonance within me grew louder.

Eventually, the need for authenticity pushed me out of the nest. I moved out, yearning to chase the tranquility I’d found in Tibetan Buddhism. But it wasn’t simple; the trauma of a past that clung too tightly made every step towards faith feel like a mile. When my mother discovered my shift in belief, it was as though a chasm split beneath our feet, her words sharp as they reminded me, “Only Christians can be good people.”

Now, each day is a page in a story that’s still being written. I’m learning that goodness isn’t tied to a creed, that love is not confined to one chapter in a book, and that my worth isn’t predicated on conformity. My mother says we’re living in the end times, the chapters of Revelation coming to life before our eyes. But for me, revelation isn’t about prophecies of doom; it’s about the truths I uncover within, the chapters of my own life unfolding in ways I never imagined.

In sharing my story, I find solace. I am not alone in this; I’m part of a community where our stories intertwine, where our questions are met with nods of understanding, not shakes of judgment. I am part of a chorus of voices finding their authentic selves, and together, our harmony rises, painting the sky with the hues of our combined experiences.

This is my revelation, my path to the authentic self.

Sarah From Florida

Sarah From Florida

by | Nov 16, 2023 | Stories

At 18, my journey to truth unfolded. Raised within the confines of Jehovah’s Witness teachings, my questioning began at 16. The COVID-induced closure of church doors ironically opened the gateway to diverse perspectives through YouTube. As I delved into discussions on “truth” within Christian faiths, the stark differences left me bewildered. The turning point arrived in 2021, a year etched with transformation.

It was the revelation that shook me to my core — the shunning of my dear friend for embracing her identity as a lesbian. Witnessing the callous rejection, I felt a seismic shift within myself. In the Jehovah’s Witness doctrine, the narrative of righteousness painted anyone outside the faith as inherently flawed. The notion that my friend was evil simply for being true to herself clashed with the very core of my being. The weight of this cognitive dissonance became unbearable.

In confronting my family about my newfound convictions, I was met with hostility. Accusations of betrayal and condemnation echoed within the walls of the home I had known. Their judgment was palpable, branding me as an apostate, a label that felt like a searing brand on my identity. I was deemed evil for having friends who didn’t conform to the rigid doctrines. The pain of rejection cut deep, and the sadness of losing my family felt insurmountable. The cold week of homelessness broke me.

But within the storm of despair, a beacon of hope emerged. The unconditional acceptance and love offered by my friend’s family became the lifeline I desperately needed. The contrast between their warmth and the cold rejection of my religious family highlighted the stark difference between dogma and genuine compassion.

It was then, in the midst of this turmoil, that my personal truth asserted itself. The unwavering certainty that embracing diversity and love was right, even when pitted against the convictions of my family, became my guiding light. The seeds of doubt planted by YouTube discussions grew into a garden of self-discovery.

Leaving the high-demand religion meant more than just abandoning a set of beliefs; it was a rebirth. I discovered the world of politics, an arena forbidden in the Jehovah’s Witness realm. I exercised my right to vote, a small yet significant act of reclaiming agency over my life.

Starting college became a symbol of my newfound freedom — a space to explore ideas, embrace diversity, and chart my course in alignment with my own convictions. Therapy, a sanctuary for processing the emotional scars of religious abandonment, became an integral part of my healing journey.

Now, as I reflect on my transformative journey, the sadness of rejection has been replaced by the warmth of acceptance. In my newfound family, I hear words of encouragement, expressions of love, and affirmations of my inherent goodness. The once-daunting shadows of the high-demand religion are dissipating, and the radiance of my positive outlook illuminates the path ahead. In breaking the chains of dogma, I’ve found a freedom that transcends the confines of belief, embracing the richness of a life guided by personal truth.

“In the embrace of personal truth, I discovered the freedom to redefine my narrative. Through the pain of rejection, I found the strength to build a life that celebrates authenticity, diversity, and the inherent goodness within us all.”

John from Oakridge

John from Oakridge

by | Nov 16, 2023 | Stories

In the sweltering summers of Oakridge, my journey began, wrapped tightly within the teachings of the Southern Baptist church. At the tender age of nine, I believed God spoke to me, and the concept of “Salvation” became my lifeline. Yet, with each passing year, the weight of inherent evil from birth haunted my self-worth, cultivating a darkness that fueled my mental health struggles.

Desperation led me to the doors of a rehab hospital, a sanctuary where the rigid constructs of my faith began to crumble. Surrounded by diverse individuals, the walls echoed with kindness and acceptance that transcended religious boundaries. Doctors and fellow patients challenged my belief that those outside my faith were irreversibly evil.

Exiting rehab, I carried scars but also a newfound sense of worth. Logical discrepancies in my faith gnawed at me, propelling me on a journey of deconstruction. Slowly, I embraced a more general spiritual approach—one that saw uncertainty as a source of growth rather than fear. The burden of never being good enough lifted, replaced by a profound acceptance of my humanity.

Three years into my deconstruction, I stand transformed. Once troubled, now resilient, my mental health thrives, and my life reflects the courage to challenge long-held beliefs. Embracing the uncertainty of my spiritual path, I’ve found a happiness that eluded me in the rigid confines of my former faith. My story stands as a testament to the power of self-discovery and the transformative journey of embracing one’s true self.

“In the tapestry of life, I’ve learned that the threads of uncertainty and self-discovery are the most vibrant. Embracing the unknown has allowed me to weave a story of resilience, acceptance, and growth. In the beauty of imperfection, I’ve found the true essence of my humanity”