Walking away from the Church

I have spent most of my life calling myself a Christian. When I was 19 I fully committed to God and made the decision to follow Him, whatever that meant.

But life changes, circumstances change, we grow up, nothing stays the same; and I have come to the conclusion that, for the foreseeable future at least, I don’t want to call myself a Christian. I don’t want to go to Church. I don’t want to be define by my beliefs.

Recent events have made me realise that I don’t think any god is in control of my life, or the life of anyone else. I believe that there’s something in the universe that makes our lives work out the way they do but I don’t think it’s anything so strict or rigid that there’s a book about it.

Some of you will worry about me; you’ll think the Devil has got me, you’ll pray for me. But I’m okay, I’m really okay, we’re all okay. I’m figuring life out and I’m figuring out how to be happy, and that’s something I was never able to do before. Something I was never able to do when I was part of the Church, while I was trying so hard to find God. I’ve found my own strength, and being able to own that is so freeing. To know that I can conquer all the things I’m afraid of is so unbelievably freeing. 

Life was dark for a while. On the days I couldn’t get out of bed it was so dark. But the sun is brightening up the sky and I can see the beauty in things again and I don’t need a god to help me do that. It’s just me and the people I love. I have some great people in my life and I’ll never be able to thank them enough for being around the past few months, as I’ve gone through all this insanity.

But for now I’m just figuring out me, I’m figuring out how I want to live; and I’m really okay.