Sent in by DifferentNow On January 15, 2007, I told my husband I wanted a divorce. It was a cold day in New York City. My second time there. We were on a company retreat with our business, the graphic design company we both owned. I woke up at 6 a.m. unable to sleep and went down to the hotel lobby so I could email the man I had fallen in love with and tell him I was antsy... really antsy. I couldn't put on a front any longer. It wasn't in my nature to hide things, and I couldn't keep it up for long. I had barely slept in two weeks. Two weeks since our first date. Two weeks of listening religiously to the wisdom of Johnny Cash while painting our studio space black. As black as my mood. Pouring myself into the old, worn down building that I convinced my husband to let us rent with dreams creating a theatre space and pursuing the never ending quest for fun, always fun... A pursuit that left him exhausted and asking me often, "why can't you just slow down?" His i...

Sent in by Sharon I remember a day in 2000 when my children were still living at home. My de-conversion had already begun, I think. I was getting into their contemporary music, both Christian and “secular,” as it was called. I was going to a church where I felt more free, dancing was part of the worship service, and now I was dancing at home to anything. On this particular day, I was dancing to a song on a CD belonging to my 16-year-old daughter called “Spirit In The Sky.” I don’t know if it was a “secular” or a Christian artist. That song made my heart soar, and I didn’t know why. Maybe it was just because I was feeling more and more like flying those days, as I was beginning to loose myself from the restraints of Christianity. One of my two daughters saw me dancing and ran to get her sister, yelling, “Come look at Mommy! You’ve got to see this!” My other daughter came and saw and both yelled, “Go, Mommy!” and started dancing with me. I still love that song and dance to it today. Both...

Sent in by John I grew up a Roman Catholic and when I reached 18 was co-erced into checking out Pentecostalism by some friends of mine at school. I went along and was pretty much converted within a week. What joy! What peace! What a crock! After wandering around for about 18 years as a bible-believing Christian, I was struck by the lack of real love among the chosen and the total disregard for the "unsaved." I became a street preacher after getting into Ray Comfort's teachings (with Kirk Cameron!) and spent a good year and a half bothering others about their sin! I met an atheist on the street and we became kinda pen friends. He wrote to me and what impressed me was not just the facts he was presenting but the mere fact he bothered to answer those nagging doubts I had over the years. After coming to a realization in my own mind about the fact that the whole Christian thing was ridiculous (with some help from some medication prescribed by a shrink) I was cured of my belief...

Sent in by Scott I grew up as a Catholic, believing in God. Eventually my faith wandered and I had many questions. I became a Methodist and was raising a family. I still believed in a God that would help explain the mystery of the cosmos, but Christianity was becoming increasingly absurd to me. Nine months ago, my ten-year-old son Connor died of a heart attack related to leukemia. Needless to say, we were devastated. I'm lost and broken; my whole world was shattered. There is nothing more tortuous than losing your child. It's not like you've heard it described -- "a big hole in your heart" -- it's your whole soul, your very existence being ripped in infinite directions, and so much worse. I've been robbed and violated and there is absolutely nothing I, or anyone else, can do to fix it -- I'm helpless and it is hopeless. There is nothing like having your young son die, that pulls the rug from under you. Everything I ever believed or thought I believed w...

Sent in by Caleb Well, I sense my whole de-conversion from Christianity is about to come to a head. I guess it is funny how it is all playing out. You see, when I was a youth pastor and ministry director, my faith and commitment to God and ministry led me to neglect my family. This caused severe problems for my wife and I, because she was and still is a 'closet atheist.' I say 'closet' because she is to scared/embarrassed to admit her atheism publicly. Luckily, even then, even as a devout Christian, I realized how important my family was to me. I left the ministry so I could become more involved in my wife and children's lives. Through this time, I was able to study Christianity as more of an onlooker. My church attendance dwindled, and my study of what exactly this religion I was following was, became more intense. I finally let go of my superstitious beliefs in God, and decided to live life free of religion. Through all this time, I kept a my-space prof...

Sent in by Sharon H Christianity taught me that I must always forgive. Now I’m learning that while forgiveness is indeed good for the soul, forgiveness is a choice not a mandate. Compassion is more effective than forgiveness, because it involves stepping back and detaching from the tendency to judge. Christianity taught me that marriage was the second most important goal in life, the first being devotion to God. Now I've learned that marriage is not a goal at all but a formal way of expressing a love relationship between two people. Christianity taught me that allegiance to one’s life partner is more important than anything—including one's sanity, safety and well being. Now I’m learning that allegiance to self is most important. Christianity taught me to judge my every feeling, thought, and behavior as morally right or wrong. Now I’m learning that feelings are feelings, thoughts are thoughts, and behaviors are either effective or ineffective. Christ...

Sent in by Trish I was raised as a Christian. My mother's side of the family was Christian, my father never talked about his side, so I don't know what they believed in. My father didn't enjoy church but came if my mother pressured him enough. By the time I was in junior high, he had refused to attend completely. We attended a United Church every Sunday. I began going when I was about 3. I was a gifted child, speaking and reading at a very early age, with a phenomenal memory. I was very uncomfortable in the building, it seemed cold, empty and unfriendly to me. I remember colouring Bible stories and being anxious because I couldn't understand the contradictions we were told to believe, such as the David and Goliath story. (Thou shall not kill...unless killing is "allowed"?) I was adept at sensing energies and feeling auras and had a number of psychic like experiences that my mother told me I "imagined" and that things like that were of the D...