Catholicism was the religion that I was born into. Since the Spaniards conquered the Philippines, it has been the religion of my ancestors. Growing up, my family made it their mission to instill in me Catholic-Christian morals. We went to church every Sunday, and my parents and grandparents made sure that my brothers and I attended weekly Bible school. It was habitual, so why didn't I feel like I fit in?
I think that I realized that I was losing touch with my religion when I felt like no one was listening to my prayers. Every couple of months, my Bible school friends and I would have to atone for our various sins—i.e. cursing, not following our parents' instructions, not getting along with our siblings—by admitting them to a priest who promised not to tell a soul. I never understood how saying a certain amount of prayers would change that.
I don't know when I stopped praying to God at night, but it was around the time I started high school. My prayers were not being answered, and so I just stopped.
And then came the tough questions. I asked my grandma about how much free will I had as a Catholic, and she said that I had none because God had a predetermined plan for my life—all my decisions and choices in life were apparently God-willing. And when I learned about the church not allowing gay couples to get married, I was even more upset at my religion, because these couples loved each other and just wanted affirmation in the form of a marriage ceremony. Things got even worse when I learned more about abortion and read first-hand accounts of the women who chose to make that difficult decision. In my mind, I was fighting my former religious perception of these issues with newfound information.
I didn't like how some of the priests' sermons sounded like they were criticizing the choices of others. Catholicism is a peaceful, loving and accepting religion, but sometimes it didn't seem that way.
Don't get me wrong, I have nothing against anyone who chooses Catholicism as their religion, but after much self-discovery, I realized that it wasn't for me. I was going through the motions of putting on a happy face and attending church each week, praying before each meal, and holding my tongue when my grandma asked me about it.
Through my faith journey, I realized that I was more secular than anything. At this point in my life, I'm not sure if I believe in God anymore. Maybe one day I'll experience another journey of self-discovery and choose another religion to pursue—this time, it will be of my own free will.
