Atheism and Me

I’ve never been a religious person. The best example of this from my youth is when I was 10 and on a fishing trip with my father, my best friend, her siblings and her father. We were on our way back to the docks when our boat ran aground. It took a good five to ten minutes to get free (though it felt like hours). As the fathers swore and messed with steering and acceleration mechanisms, my friend began to pray. Seeing her pray, I didn’t know what to do. So I said the Pledge of Allegiance; I stood up, put my hand over my heart and everything. It was the closest thing I knew to a prayer and I was certain this “God” character would understand.

This isn’t to say my parents didn’t try. They baptized me when I was an infant so I wouldn’t wind up in Limbo like the other babies Jesus doesn’t love enough. One time when I was 8 or 9 my dad took me to church and fed me stale crackers and grape juice, though it meant nothing to me. Then, when we moved to a small town in Connecticut, my mom tried to get me to be religious like all the other good town folk. She took me to my stepfather’s church where I went to Super Hip Teenage Sunday School for two or three years. It got to the point where I carried a bible around with me in my purse (though that probably had more to do with the fact that it had John 3:16 in 20 different languages in the front which I thought was neat than me wanting to keep Jesus near me). I was confirmed by the church and never went back. I had my moments but I could never be a truly religious person.

It just never seemed plausible to me that there was a bearded, robed, puppet master in the skies granting wishes to people who ate and drank his son. I believed in the tooth fairy and dragons longer than I did this Santa of the Skies. It just always seemed so silly to me that the adults took this fairy tale more seriously than all the others.

At some point, though, I became obsessed with having some kind of religion because atheism seemed unacceptable to society. Most people gasp when you tell them you are atheist. To the religious, it means your parents failed miserably and there is no hope for you. If you tell them you’re a Buddhist or Taoist or something, they think it’s cute. At least then you still believe in SOMETHING, at least you still have a chance at redemption.

I dabbled in various Soul Saving beliefs. Nothing seemed worth it, though. You always have to throw out some common sense or knowledge to make it work, and I just wasn’t into that. In the end I realized that it doesn’t matter to me to have a religion, it’s just not that important. So for a while I just avoided the topic when talking with people who cared about it.

Today, though, I have finally reached the point where I can say something out loud that I’ve known since I was thirteen. I am Atheist and I am proud.