Sometimes I envy animals whose lives are simple. There are no politics or religion or beliefs that you must debate over. For animals, they do not seem to concern themselves with heaven or hell, good and evil, or ridiculous standards, and expectations, but only the moment. Like the pelicans gliding over the waves and the osprey soaring, I want to escape expectation. Escape all the shoulds that haunt my mind from years of religious dedication. But no matter how hard I try the memories are still there.

People still ask me, "what do you believe?" "Do you believe in Jesus?" Well, I don't know, but why should I know. Didn't God make birds and animals too? Did he demand that they through their own reasoning figure out God and pray and worship him in the right way? It all seems so complicated to me to have to believe in God. To muster up enough faith. There's something deep inside that always felt like those expectations were ridiculous. I cannot believe in God, I cannot save myself, I cannot figure it out through scriptures or my mind, and I don't want to anymore.

For years there was this nagging expectation to not follow my own desires or trust my feelings. I had to want what God wanted, to figure out his will and follow it. To follow my own desires was considered worldly and evil. It wasn't perfect like I had to be to be accepted by God and my fellow Christians. So, I labored and strained, devoting my life to please God but for what?

Meanwhile, my cat naps on my lap, never saving the world, preaching, evangelizing, or doing a great thing for God. She naps and eats, plays, grooms, cuddles, and enjoys herself. If God created her too, then why can't I do the same? Why can't I nap and play and cuddle and do nothing significant but still be accepted and loved for me?

I was accepted by Christians when I talked about God passionately in every conversation, I wept and danced in worship, I spoke about visions I had of revival. I prophesied I prayed, I did everything right and made friends instantly. When I left all of that, knowing I couldn't keep up the hyper-spirituality any longer, I lost almost all those friends. And even the ones I didn't necessarily lose, there's this invisible tension with because I'm not the person I was that they fell in love with. I realized it wasn't me they loved, it was my spirituality; they worshiped it, and they only loved me when I fit into their spirituality.

Why can't I be a bird who speaks in chirps and songs, who is never asked "Do you believe in God? Why don't you believe?" They don't have to talk about God. No, they go about their lives enjoying it peacefully without demand, without judgment. They are accepted and loved for their beauty and songs, and not because they are spiritual revivalists, destined to save the world.

Many wonder why I left church. Too put it simply, I was not free. I was not myself; I had barely known who I was because I had built up an image of myself, the perfect Christian I was expected to be. My own desires were lost, long crucified and buried. And all the expectations tortured me. I broke down and couldn't do it anymore, and I never plan to return.

For the first time in years, I am finding myself. I am allowed just to be. I sit with the birds; they teach me what it is to accept myself, embrace my desires, and live again. This time it's not for the Church, for other people, or the will of God, it is for me. Because if I am not myself, what am I?