Change of Heart

I wouldn’t say that I just one day renounced my faith. I would say however that since I was a young adult I have slowly but surely lost touch with the teachings of my childhood. As a child growing up in a Mexican/ Irish family, I was raised in a traditional Catholic manner. Not only was I taught things at home but at school as well. From kindergarten up until the first half of my freshman year of high school I was enrolled in private Catholic schools. Everyday of my life, for nine years, I was taught to embrace an ideal no one really told me anything about. You could imagine that for someone like me growing up in an age where I would hear about everything from: murder, rape, famine, genocide, corruption, and even the occasional molestation by priests, it was hard for me to cope with. So steadily through my years in public education where the ever watchful eye of God seemed less prevalent. I was quietly changing my views to adjust to the things I was seeing around me.

All those years I was taught to accept the word of God and denounce all others who opposed it through their lack of faith or actions. Now I was really starting to see that there was no logical sense in condemning someone just because they didn’t practice my belief, or what used to be my beliefs. I definitely went through the normal adolescent experimental stage soon there after. Whether it was sex, drugs, or alcohol I really didn’t feel any regret for what I was doing, I mean I was having the time of my life.

More or less I felt insightful, which wouldn’t have been the case if I had kept up with the teachings of my childhood.Now more than ever I felt as though I could live my life without worrying about the metaphysical consequences.

I had an appreciation for things. I started making friends with people I normally wouldn’t have even socialized with. I was more tolerant of the different viewpoints others proposed to me, and I even adopted a sort of self-awareness: that it’s better to be remembered for the positive impact you make in peoples lives than it is to try and fit into some fixed state of existence. I want to take the chance however to let people know that I’m not saying Catholicism is wrong, or that any religion is wrong. I’m just saying it wasn’t for me. Simple as that.

Now of course the choices I have made in life might seem immoral to some people, and I understand that. What I want people to realize is that they are my choices. I may not be proud of some of those choices but I am grateful I made them because they have shaped me into the person I am today. That can be hard for some people to accept or even understand. Some of my old friends who have kept up with their teachings don’t even communicate with me anymore because of my lifestyle. I don’t feel any anger or pity towards them; I actually respect them for doing what they think is the right thing (even if I don’t totally agree with it).

Whether I choose to tell people about my change in ideals, there will always be someone trying to bring me back into that congregation. I deal with it everyday whenever I talk to family members. It’s like I’m always on the defensive, trying to justify my decision with reasoning and rational thought. Trust me; in my family if you renounce your faith, you’re almost invisible.

Thankfully however, most of my relatives are starting to accept my decision, but they still ask me to humor them by attending church on Sundays when I come to visit. I mean that’s what family is for right?

As I’ve matured over the years the differences I saw between people seemed to get smaller and smaller. I really didn’t care about what a person’s ethnic background was or what a person looked anymore. All that really mattered to me was whether or not they were a good hearted person. So of course whenever I hear someone asking about my upbringing or my racial background I just simple answer “I am no different than you are”. I do however on occasion bite the bullet for some people by telling them my racial background, and it seems that whenever I do old stereotypes come up. Spic, Potato Eater, Wetback, Mc all these labels have come up more than once in my life. Growing up in Albuquerque, which was mainly Hispanic, being the little half Mexican Irish boy, people use to call me “Whetto” which was a Spanish slang for someone who was white. However when I first moved up to Seattle, it seemed that the other half of my heritage was the target. It doesn’t matter where you live or who you are. Some people will still dehumanize others they either fear or don’t quite understand. I don’t so much get offended by these names or stereotypes; I almost pity the people who choose to lower themselves to that level. After all they’re only words and nothing more; they can only harm you if you let them. Remember, sticks and stones.

I guess if I had to choose one reason why I changed my views on life. It would have to be that I wanted control over everything I possibly could. I didn’t want that supernatural “Big Brother” aspect always in the back of my mind. Who would?

I didn’t need that constant worrying that I’m not living up to some standards that have been set before I was even born. I wanted to figure things out for myself and feel a real connection with people not just Catholics, but everyone. There just doesn’t seem to be a need for me to feel guilty about some of my actions, but rather that I understand how they affect other people, and if it’s in our best interest that I continue to do so. With that in mind I will continue to some times leap before I look and vice versa. Perhaps my views will change, perhaps they won’t. Only time will tell, and as far as I’m considered I still have a lot of time to spare.

Don’t get me wrong though I love tacos, burritos, Guinness, whiskey, and potatoes (mashed, baked, and fried). I just thought I’d humor you as well.