Let’s start at the beginning of the initial questioning of my faith:

I was fifteen and sad. It’s crazy how one emotion made me question something I had based my entire life, my entire future on. Anyways, I was lonely, sad, depressed and angry. I remember this day surprisingly well-- as I was sitting in my turquoise room on my lime green bed spread, with hot pink pillows squished behind me as I wallowed in a teenage angst.

I remember that night, after the super hard high school homework—I pulled out my Bible. I remember reading the book of Genesis, then Exodus. God was so mean. He was ruthless. He hurt so many people. I asked myself this question: If God was all powerful, omnipotent, WHY does he hurt people? Why did he make hatred an emotion? Why did he make sadness?

I moved on to the New Testament; the Gospels. Matthew, Mark, Luke; all the same story with different voices. More questions arose: God made Satan, God made sin… why did he do that? He never would have sent Jesus as the Messiah if he didn’t create sin! God has killed so many people… people he could have made good, but chose to end their life.

I was devastated. Shocked. Flabbergasted. Hurt. I have gone my whole life praising this Being who hurt. Who killed...? Innocent people!

I ignored all of these questions and continued going to church and praying with my family. Until I went to college. Living from the age of 15 to 20, my hatred grew inside as I was obligatorily expected to praise a being I didn’t believe in. I was never spiritually connected.

Now I know my family blames it on “the damn New York liberals”…but that could not be further from the truth—when I came to college freshman year, I was surrounded by hundreds of new people, with different backgrounds, experiences and thoughts. I was (metaphorically) in Heaven. My views changed because I changed—not because I became some sort of hippy, or part of a weird cult following.

Religion is sacred, religion is special… and it isn't for me.

I don’t chastise those who worship all the time. I don’t judge those who go to church twice a week.

As a singular human being, I can’t say what is true and what isn’t, but I can say what I believe in:

I believe in happiness. I believe in equality. I believe in peace. I believe in knowledge. I believe in thought.

I’ve researched many religions and cultures trying to find something to believe in; but I don’t think it exists. I think each religion has a special part—something to believe in; but I don’t think each person has connection to a singular special part.

I don’t believe in God, but I respect people who do. I don’t believe in God, but I don’t know if I believe in evolution. I don’t believe in God, but I think there is something out there. I don’t believe in God, but I am a republican. I don’t believe in God, but I let people talk to me about it. I don’t believe in God, and I don’t think I’ll ever change my mind. I don’t believe in God, but I’m not an atheist. I don’t believe in God, and that’s okay.

Some might find this article hurtful, slanderous, and full of hatred—and that is not my intention. My intention is to show that I, along with many others, are open to discussion. Open to seeing what makes religion special to a person. If I respect your belief, please respect the lack of mine.