I am the daughter of a Pentecostal pastor. Enough said.
When I left home at 18, I was grateful to have escaped from the church. I wouldn’t say I had a bad childhood, it was just… uneventful. I spent a majority of my time praising God. I’m not saying that’s a bad thing, of course it isn’t. I’m saying, it was depressing.
|6:30 A.M.||Wake up and get ready for school|
|7:00 A.M.||Prayer and Bus Stop|
|7:30 A.M til 3:00 P.M.||School aka Freedom|
|3:30 P.M. to 4:30 P.M.||Dinner|
|6:00 P.M.||Bible Study|
My schedule left no time for anything extracurricular, but that was okay because God didn’t want me congregating with my peers because they were devils and whore-mongers. Instead, God wanted me around the like-minded people of the church, who were typically 30 to 50 years older than me. I managed to make friends at school, but after my parents took their names to the altar, they would come back with an entire analysis on their sins, the sins of their father’s, and the sins of their father’s father. So basically, no. Go to your room, read your bible, and ask God who he wants you to be friends with.
I don’t feel that I have to mention, I never did that. I was just a kid trying to be a kid, but feeling like God was in my way. I mean, the least he could have done was keep the other kids in the house, so that I didn’t have to witness them doing normal kid stuff.
Once I escaped, I had no intentions of ever stepping foot in another church… at least not for another decade. However, I was mentally bound to what I’d learned in church, I just didn’t act like it. I’d developed this hidden moral code that made things like dressing how I want, willing fornication, and going out seem bad. After all, sin is everything, and everything is sin. However, my plans were foiled when I became pregnant. Even though I was hardly ever interested in the church, I felt inclined to instill some of the positives in my own child. It wasn’t bad, and I went for a while.
I also feel that it’s important to notate that this was during the time when I started to become doubtful in myself, and it’s highly possible I was looking for some encouragement.
A few months after I had my daughter, I wound up moving back home with a definite plan, of going back to school, working, and living with my mom for 30 days until I found my own place. Unbeknownst to me, God still had plans for me, and he had planned on enacting those plans through my mother (take that as you want). My mom was active in the church, she was also holier than thou. My experiences with the entire situation, versus things that were browbeaten into me as a child, made me disappointed in myself for ever thinking that I wanted to be apart of a church again.
Side Note- My dad used to always tell me that you have to find God for yourself, instead of following people. I’d completely disregarded that at this point.
Life went on, and I became a big ass ball of depression and doubt. I’d distanced myself from what I was taught as a child, because there was no way in hell I’d allowed myself to be guilt tripped for so long, only to realize that the people finding fault with me were sanctified-lite. I wasn’t necessarily looking for anything spiritual, even though it was probably needed, but I was open to the possibility of venturing out on my own, and finding my own way. I think at that point, I was so deep in my head knowing that I needed something, I just didn’t know what it was. Hope, maybe?
I gave being a Muslim a chance, I don’t have anything negative to say about it, but it just didn’t seem like the thing for me. I met an older woman that invited me to her husband’s church. He was the head of a small Baptist church. That lasted all of two weeks. One of the deacons began pursuing me. He’d told me that he had been praying to God to send him the right woman to make his wife, and then I walked through the door, and I couldn’t deny God’s plan. I was 26, he was 63. I could have dealt with the infatuation, but when it comes men randomly showing up at my house, unannounced telling me to hop in cars…. no sir. Did God give you my address?
After a while, I kind of just put the notion to rest and decided to do the best with what I knew and what I could. And then there was New Age. I’d heard of New Age Religion as a kid. My dad had lots of Win Worley pamphlets that detailed the dangers of meditation, yoga, and tarot cards. In the essence of rebellion, I’m wiling to try anything once. I can understand why it’s so captivating. There are literally charts that explain why you are the way you are, and all you have to do is meditate, burn some sage, charge your crystals and manifest what you want in life. I’m all about results, but due to my upbringing I still had some reservations, because I don’t want to summon a demon accidentally. Instead, I decided to research some things. I happened upon this forum where people spoke on their experiences with spirituality. I honestly don’t think I was supposed to be there. I expected a beginner’s class, what I got were extremes.
I’ve watch a lot of occult-ish shows. They have always been my go to, because I have a thing for magic… doesn’t mean I want to learn it. I read various stories on women cursing ex boyfriends, men cursing women with their penis, and a plethora of negative results. Wait, people really do this? When I think of witchcraft, my mind automatically goes toward an old woman living in the middle of a forest, in a tiny home, who survives off of the land and talks to smoke. She probably sacrifices newborn animals to the ancestors and reads bones. Apparently, the real witches live in the suburbs, drives a Tahoe, and works in some sort of humanitarian field. After reading several reviews and stories, my curiosity lead me to get my very first tarot reading. I’m not going to lie, she was accurate as hell. I was more concerned with the “why is she so accurate” aspects. The thought that there could possibly be an aunt floating around my apartment, watching me, and snitching to a complete stranger kind of feels like a violation. What else are you telling them Aunt Ancestor? I deemed it wise not to get too caught up into that lifestyle, because from what I’ve ascertained, it can be addicting to some people. I’m not really into spontaneity, but I’m comfortable enough with my life to let things unravel as they may, despite how great or shitty they may be. I have patience, I can wait.
So, as of right now, I still haven’t fully figured out this spiritual thing, and I’m not sure I’m approaching it the right way. In general, I feel that I’m a good person. I live by the Golden Rule… which I’m positive only I am doing. I don’t go out of my way to do anything malicious toward people. I’m actually a bore, but maybe that’s the sin. I believe the more than I learn about myself, the more I will understand a lot of things. A majority of these teachings all have the same end goal, as well as, the same teachings, it’s just the characters that change. Now days, I’m more focused on healing myself, rather than looking for God, or becoming a god, to do everything.