Fickle Faith

I was raised Catholic. A lot of people are I think. At least Christian. I went to Catholic school pretty much my whole life, taking out preschool and my senior year of high school. My college is Methodist-affiliated. But, most of my life was at Catholic school.

It's all because of my mom. She was raised Catholic and sent to Catholic school her whole life until college. My dad was raised Baptist, and when they had kids, they decided on Catholic. My mother is the most religious person I know in secular life. She has a faith that I've always been envious of.

I've always had issues with my faith. First, there were my issues with the Roman Catholic Church. I think those are pretty self-explanatory. And of course, being a bisexual, it was hard for me to feel comfortable at mass as well as in school. But that's a story for a different day. My faith has been hard to focus on.

I believe in God. I believe in Jesus, and the Holy Spirit. I really do. But then I have to go to mass and hear people talk about how I was made in the 'image and likeness' of the literal creator of the universe. I then think of my body. My issues. The way I see myself. It makes me want to cry, because if I am supposed to be modeled after this perfect being, why do I not like my body?

When we were little, my mom would make us dress up nicely for Sunday mass. That was another part I hated. Dressing up, it used to make me sick. It still does sometimes. The fights me and my mother had about what I could and could not wear to church, wow those were rough.

It's a bit better now. I'm still Catholic. I don't go to mass every Sunday, or pray everyday. But when I do, I feel peaceful. I feel happier for just a second. Then I remember my issues with my faith and get mad at myself. Fickle little me.