sent in by David Williams Most of these stories are emotional. I could tell mine that way, but I consider those emotions sick now, so I will not indulge them. The day I stopped being a Christian was when I was reading the Bible and realized it was all only a belief. You had to "believe" the stories were true. I asked myself, "What does it mean to believe?" Then I realized, believing is accepting claims without proof. Now what mature person would conduct their life that way? You would be subject to every con, wacko scheme and political crook that came your way. Why would I be obligated to accept a claim without proof? Christianity's short answer is God will kill you if you don't. I summarize it this way now: There is a giant invisible man who will kill you if you don't believe there is a giant invisible man who will kill you. My moment of freedom came when I realized that the fear was a belief too. This has led to the re...

sent in by Anonymous I was born into a fundamentalist family and "saved" at the early age of 4. While I was younger, i was not embarrassed to flaunt my religious beliefs and would strongly argue anyone who disagreed with me or seemed to threaten my beliefs. I remember trying to convert everyone I met, feeling genuinely concerned about whether or not they would go to hell. My parents' religion was very strict and my earliest memories are packed with heavy indoctrination. I was taught that the only way i would go to "heaven" was by praying and asking jesus to forgive my sins. After that I would have to live like jesus would...a sinless, righteous life, doing nothing but good. I was taught through example that women should submit to men and obey their husbands unconditionally...if not, they were sinners. I was supposed to read the bible daily, and pray throughout the day, and enjoy it. But as I grew older, constant prayer became nothing m...

sent in by Wandering~ I’m not sure how to tell my story, but I'll try. First, a brief background. My near-fundamentalist grandma was the biggest religious influence in the family. First she had a fit when my parents weren't married in a church she wanted. She kept trying to make my dad divorce my mom because she wasn’t a catholic like they were. When I was born my she had a big role in making sure that I was baptized and had a "proper upbringing." I went to after school religion class in elementary school, went to church, was made to feel guilty when I didn’t, and was afraid to go to sleep without having holy water put on my forehead for "protection." however, I don’t think i ever fully believed in a "God". I was raised in an ultra-catholic country in central america, where like 99% of people are catholic. seriously, for my fist 10 years of life i only met one Jewish person, everyone else was catholic. Unfortunately fo...

sent in by Evelyn I was initially raised in the Presbyterian Church, though I don't remember much about it. My parents were medical missionaries (Dad a doctor, Mom a nurse) who served in Asian countries right after World War II. I was born in the United States when they were home on furlough for a few years. When I was three, the Presbyterian Church mission board assigned them to a small town south of Bombay, India, so I moved with them there. My siblings were sent to boarding school. When I was six, my dad had a nervous breakdown and we came back to the US, settling in the San Francisco bay area. My siblings were graduating from high school, so they made their way back to the US as they headed for college. My father was so ill he was in mental hospitals for two years. The Presbyterian Church mission board was no help at all during this crisis, so my Mom became acquainted with some Pentecostals. She went to a prayer meeting and was "baptized" ...

sent in by Sarah Macias As a spiritual being, I think I've always questioned the way I've been told to accept the faiths and beliefs of others. I was born into a Catholic family, baptised and raised that way, but I always knew it wasn't right, somehow. I was a good little girl, pretty, sweet and obedient...except when it came to church. I hated it. I hated the lectures, dressing up, the boring preist, the endless "sit down, stand up, kneel, sit down again," the saccharine songs we were made to sing, and, horror of horrors, being made to touch the people around me when it came time to join hands as we sung the "Our Father" or said "Peace be with you" to the people who happened to be sitting around the pew near us. Sunday school was a joke, ad catechism was worse. Youth group, for high schoolers was the bane of my existance for two years until my parents finally gave up. I never understood any of what they were trying to t...

sent in by MsBok Luckily, my parents did not force religion down my throat. My mother was raised w/o religion, heck, she was never baptized. My father was raised Presbyterian, but backed off when his church sent a collection agency after my aunt who was on her deathbed because she couldn't keep up with the pledge she made. My mother did send us on a bus to a Baptist church. That was a nightmare. My sister's purse must've got stolen twice & we always got our bibles ripped off. The vacation bible school was the last straw. They actually had scary monsters on the bus (I was only 6 at the time) who told us our parents were going to hell because they weren't going to church with us and only gave us a quarter to put in the collection plate. We stopped going to church all together except for Easter with my grandparents and whenever we spent the night at a friend's house & had to go to church with them. In my late teens, I started to meet...

sent in by Rian Whew! Where do I start? How bout pre-me. My parents met at a small fundamentalist bible college Minnesota, and married in 1959. They intended to become bible translators/missionaries following completion of bible translation school. However, my father decided to pursue an advanced degree in American history at the Univ. of Minn. and he eventually earned his PhD in 1966. It was during his graduate studies that my father began to realize the inconsistancies and ultimately, the complete errancy of Christianity. He attempted to deconvert my mother, which, over time, caused my mother to cling more closely to her fundamentalist Christian beliefs. This growing division did not, unfortunately, result in divorce. My father accepted a job at a state university in Illinois in 1966, and, with my sister (born in 62), and my mother, moved from Minnesota and started his teaching career. (To his credit, he loved teaching, excelled at it, and was beloved by man...

sent in by Willa Why I "de-converted" There are probably numerous reasons, that taken all together turned me away from Christianity and pretty-well all other religions. Without dwelling too much on the people of the Christian religions themselves (though they certainly are a good enough reason to leave as there is something about religion that brings out the most mean-spirited things in people), the beliefs of the religion itself eventually made me question the whole structure. The following is a summary of probably the most salient points that eventually turned me away and started me looking for the truth: 1. The idea of "eternal punishment." If an extremely bad person (eg Hitler, Stalin or Genghis Khan) were to be punished and therefore doomed to suffer a million years of excruciating pain for each second of each person whom they caused the death of, this would never even come close to eternity. Would God really punish someone "forever?" I can...

sent in by Brandon Ahh where to begin? As a child I was raised in a bible-thumping Baptist church until I was roughly 6 or 7. I am not sure as to the time my family stopped going. The church played a huge part in my family’s life, particularly in my mother’s. Rock music was evil, gay people were “ate up with the devil”…I’m pretty sure everyone has heard the rants of the church. Of course I was susceptible to believing these lies too. Iwas a naive child. Jesus loved me, or so I thought. I loved my parents and really wanted to please them. They were the moral authority in my life. I am not saying they were tyrants or anything. They were very loving and set me on a pretty straight course for life, albeit with some pretty disturbing Christian-opinions. Anyway, my mother joined a local church and became pretty involved. She taught Sunday school and was involved in a lot of the church planning. She left because of the corruption she had witnessed within the church. Af...

sent in by Ellen My first memory of Christianity would be the day I became "saved" at the age of 3. Sunday School was fun, but I was a bit confused. I came home from church singing, "Jesus Loves Me," only I replaced the word "Jesus" with "The Devil." That brought me quite a disgusted glare from my father. It also motivated him to sit down and have the talk with me, the talk that told me I would spend eternity in a fiery place called "Hell" if I did not ask Jesus to come into my heart and to forgive my sins. The following 15 years of my life involved many nights of intense fear, worrying that my salvation prayer did not take. I didn't feel like I had anyone in my heart or that God spoke to me, like he seemed to so often with other Christians. I became an insomniac at the age of 3 and have struggled with insomnia and nightmares ever since. I lay awake at night crying and doubling over in stomach pain cau...