Labels

Back in 1996 when I realized I no longer believed in God, I briefly sought out a label for myself. If I was no longer a Christian, then what was I? The thought of accepting the label of Atheist bothered me. It sounded like a bad word. I had grown up thinking that either you were a Christian (someone who was good because they believed), or an Atheist (someone who was bad because they didn't believe). The thought that I was going from being a "good person" to a "bad person" didn't work well for me. So I avoided labeling myself at all. When someone would ask me if I was a Christian, I would simply say "No. I don't have a religion." Occasionally, the person would ask the follow-up "So, you're an Atheist?" Again, I would just simply say, "No. I'm not anything. I just don't believe in God."

I held this stance on my religious label for many years. In fact, it wasn't until this year that I finally could say that I thought I was an Atheist. When my husband and I actually started looking into our beliefs this year, he was the first to say that we were Atheists. I was startled. I actually had to go and look it up in the dictionary because if someone who truely knew me was able to classify me that way, then maybe that's what I was.

By one definition, an Atheist is "unbeliever in God or deities: somebody who does not believe in God or deities". Well, that doesn't sound so bad after all. There is nothing in the definition that isn't true for me. It says nothing about an Atheist being bad for having no belief in God. I realized that it was the Christians (and other believers) who give the term Atheist the negetive connotation.

Ok.... So I'm an Atheist. There I said it. It still didn't exactly sound "good" but it was the truth. My husband and I continued to work on our "label" and found that we identified more closely with a particular group of Atheists. (Yes, I was suprised to find that there were whole sub-groups below Atheism.) What we found was that we tended to lean pretty heavily towards the label of Humanist. That sounds a bit nicer, doesn't it?

By one definition, Humanism is a "belief in human-based morality: a system of thought that is based on the values, characteristics, and behavior that are believed to be best in human beings, rather than on any supernatural authority". I believe in people and the good that comes from people when they concern themselves with what is right and just and good without the need for religion to define those things. I dont need God to tell me that killing someone is bad; that lying is wrong. They just ARE! "Do unto others as you would have done unto you." That's not a religious saying. It's common sense! I don't want someone killing me.... So I am not going to go kill someone else.

So.... Humanist it is for now. I can accept that. And I am no longer afraid to call myslf an Atheist either.

My Revelation

(Below you will find the very first thing I ever wrote that I felt was "blog-worthy". This was written back in March 2010 as a theraputic way to work thru my sudden interest in figuring out what I did or did not believe. After writing it, I had contemplated posting it right away but held back because I still wasn't yet comfortable sharing this with the world. But now I have become much more comfortable in my own skin and have decided that this is probably the best possible way to introduce myself. You will also see where the title of my blog came from. I thank you for taking the time to get to know me a little better as I go on this journey. It is my hope that someone else out there will find their way a little easier by taking this trip with me as I leave my little island.)

Do I believe in God? Do you really want to know the answer? More importantly, if you knew the answer, would you still want to be my friend? I have come to realize it is my fear of your answer to these last two questions that has paralyzed me over the years from making any close friends in my adult life. When people find out that I don’t believe in God they tend to ask me what made me stop believing? At what point did I realize that I didn’t believe anymore and why? And I would tell the story of how I reacted when my dear friend Jason passed away in 1996. And it would go something like this:


When Jason passed away, it was very tough on me as it was on most of the people who knew him. He was one of the kindest and most genuine people you could ever have the chance to know. A good Mormon boy. When he passed away, I took it very hard. One night a few days after his death a bunch of his close friends gathered together to console each other and to remember him. We were all still in shock. My boyfriend at the time drove me to the house where we were all getting together. When he went to get out of the car he noticed I was not moving to open the door to get out with him. He asked me if I was ok and I just lost it. I began crying in a hysterical way that I had never cried before. I was crying so hard that I couldn’t breathe. I sincerely thought I was going to pass out. I managed to tell my boyfriend to go on without me; that I needed time to process what in the heck was going on in my head. He reluctantly left me alone in the car. I had wanted to go to this gathering to be strong for some of Jason’s other close friends who I knew were having a hard time as well. How could I go in there crying like this? And…WHY was I crying like this? I thought to myself, “He’s gone!!” I realized it wasn’t just that he was gone in the sense that I would never see him again. He was just GONE. I had just made the revelation that I didn’t believe in heaven. Jason had just ceased to exist on any level… anymore. After what seemed like an hour, a couple of friends came out to check on me and found me still in hysterics. They asked me what was wrong and I just blurted out “Prove to me that there is a heaven. Please, prove to me that heaven exists. Because, if you can prove that there is a heaven, I know that’s where Jason is now.” As hard as they tried to “prove” to me that heaven existed it all led to me just needing to have faith that it existed; that God existed. And I just couldn’t have faith in it anymore. I didn’t believe in heaven. I didn’t believe in God… anymore.


So, that’s the story I would tell when someone would ask me when did I lose my faith or when did I stop believing. But as I read this story now, I realize that this moment doesn’t define when I lost my faith or why I lost my faith. It’s just the moment I knew that I didn’t believe anymore and I questioned if I ever really believed. Now, I had been going to church for awhile at this point in my life. I had been baptized in the church and one of the friends who was standing there in front of me that night had been there to witness it. So, what happened? If you had asked me if I believed in God any day before that day, I would have said yes. I think I believed at one point. Or, maybe that’s just it. Maybe I never really believed. Maybe I just wanted to believe. Maybe I just wanted others to believe that I believed. And that leads me to what has paralyzed me for years.

Since that September day in 1996, I have only made a handful of friends. Most of those friends are people who have, for one reason or another, been kind of “forced” to get to know me because of having to be around me on some sort of regular basis; Co-workers, neighbors and a few of my husband’s friends. My circle is pretty small. My little island I sometimes call it. But I like to think that those who have had a chance to get to know me see me as a good person. So why am I afraid of letting new people get to know me for me?

I used to be pretty social. In high school, I wasn’t afraid of what people would think of me. I was me… take it or leave it. But since I realized I didn’t believe in God I became a bit of on introvert. Don’t get me wrong, I am completely ok with my beliefs. I am secure in what I believe and I like me for me. I just find that I have a fear that others who I may want to get to know won’t like me when they find out I don’t believe in God. So I keep that tidbit to myself. It goes even farther than that though. I actually avoid situations where I know I will be surrounded by religious people because I would be the outcast. That fear keeps me from going quite a few places and meeting many different people. It keeps my circle…my island… small. Lately, though, I have realized I want to get off my little island. I want a bigger circle. I want to be social again. I need to be social again. And there are so many opportunities out there for me to make new friends if I can just convince myself that they will like me if they just get to know me. I have qualities that would make me a good friend, right?

Am I a good person? I would like to think so. Am I kind and caring? Yes. Do I help the person who needs help? Yep. Do I treat others as I would want to be treated? Always! So, should it matter if I believe in God or not? It really shouldn’t. I know it’s not something I need to advertise when I first meet someone. “Hey. Nice to meet you. I don’t believe in God. I am a good person though. You want to be friends?” I know that’s a bit extreme. Most people will probably never care to even know if I believe in God or not. There is a good chance that it probably will never come up in conversation. I would be a fool to think that everyone I will meet in my life will at some point want to know and will then judge me differently based on that one piece of my personality. It’s silly really and I say all of this in humor. I know that I am just as good as the next person. I have a good heart. I have a good head on my shoulders. I have good values and a good moral compass. It shouldn’t matter to anyone “why” I am good, just that I am good, right?

In an attempt to get over my fear that as I walk into a room full of people I don’t know that I am wearing a post-it note on my head that reads “No God For Me”, I have embarked on a bit of a “Social Experiment” I like to call it. Some friends of ours (mine and my husband’s) invited us to take part in a 10 week course for people who have questions about religion. Not necessarily for people looking to be converted but for people who may have a hard time with some of the concepts and beliefs that religion presents. When the idea was first presented I went thru a gambit of emotions. Anger, resentment, hurt. After all of these years, were we suddenly not good enough for these friends and we needed to change in order to remain friends? I know that wasn’t the case but it didn’t stop the thought from crossing my mind. After I had time to process this unintentional “attack” on my beliefs, I really started thinking about it. If I am so secure in what I believe, then what possible harm could come from checking it out? What better way to show myself that I can be in a room with religious individuals, take part in religious discussions and still be myself with my beliefs. If they like me, then great! If they don’t, then what have I lost? My circle will remain unchanged. My island would be unaffected. But if I could get over my fear, how amazing would that be? Not being afraid to say yes to an invitation to go out with people. Not worrying if I will be shunned if word gets out that I am a non-believer. Knowing that most people are only going to care that I am a good person. And if someone actually does decide that I am not “good enough” to be their friend… well… their loss.

We just completed our 5th week of this 10 week “Social Experiment” and I am feeling pretty good about myself. Our little discussion group knows that my husband and I are the non-believers and they seem to like to talk to us anyways. I knew I wasn’t going into this looking for answers about religion but rather looking to explore myself and just work thru my bizarre fear. I had a good feeling that the discussions were only going to solidify what I already believed and that has proven true thus far. What I have found to be an interesting (and very welcomed) “side effect” of this experiment is that my husband and I, after 9 years of being together, have found new things to talk about. We always knew that we believed pretty much the same thing but now we actually discuss why we believe that way.

So there it is…. My revelation. I know I am a good person. I know I don’t need religion and God to make me a good person. I like me. Others will like me too if I can just stop being afraid to let people get to know me. And if knowing that I don’t believe in God is too much for someone to handle, sorry. This is me. Take it (and add another good person to your life) or leave it.


Party on Jennifer’s island!! Bring a friend!