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thenuanceddebater · 5 years ago

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Personal Post: Why I Disappear

Alright. This has been a long time coming. This might be one of the most open, personal, etc. posts that I’ve made on this blog. I’m not going to hide anything (save for some identifying details), and I’m going to go through messy stuff like emotions and whatnot. So, I’m putting it under a read more. Please do not think that you need to read this if you don’t want to.

When I first started this blog, I was in undergrad and almost failing out. I had some family issues going on with my grandfather (who is now deceased due to what I could charitably call medical malpractice to the point where it helped change a national procedural standard), and I was hurting. I didn’t have many (or really any) friends, and I needed something to vent to. I made an account to shout into the void – to post long content that wouldn’t ever really get popular or any traction whatsoever for my own benefit. I needed a place where I could yell at people and feel smart. I really didn’t think anything would ever happen, or that I’d even get like... 50 followers. And then my content it kind of... did take off to a degree.

I wasn’t really prepared for that, but at the time it was really fun. I’ve got a bit of an obssessive/ addictive personality, and tumblr became an addiction. At first, that was okay. I was involved in the culture-war discourse, but not really taking it any more seriously than I took other things. I had a summer internship during summer 2016 where I would make tumblr posts when I didn’t have enough work to do, and enjoyed talking to some of the friends I made on this platform. Then it got bad. I started disagreeing with people on “my side,” the 2016 election happened and I felt isolated from the left and the right, and the alt-right started to become a real thing on this website.

Charlottesville is what finally killed it for me. I saw so many people I had at least some respect for trotting out positions that were not only wrong, but odiously wrong. I had acquaintances, classmates, good friends who were affected there. Who were on the ground when it happened. And I know a lot more about Charlottesville than most people on this website. I got sick and tired of having to defend myself, of having people who didn’t know what they were talking about speak back on issues that they did not fully understand. At that point, tumblr became toxic for me. And it’s never really come back. It just took me a while to realize it.

I deleted the tumblr app from my phone in fall 2017, and it’s never come back. I took what was originally intended to be a 3 month sabbatical from tumblr, and then realized that I didn’t want it back in my life. It had kind of... fulfilled its purpose, and I was on to new things. I got a job, and started studying for law school. Then I got into law school. Tumblr was the last place I made that announcement. I used the fact that I had “gotten busy” as an excuse, but that’s not fully accurate. Yes, I was and am very busy. But if I really wanted to, I could make time to post. Maybe not the pages, upon pages, upon PAGES that I used to. But something. What it really was is that I no longer wanted to. The way this website works, at least on the political side, pushed me away.

Alright, now a MAJOR confession time. I have a lot of anxiety. As in, diagnosed “I went to therapy for a year to help deal with it” anxiety. I’m not in therapy anymore, and I cope with it pretty well (especially compared to some people I know and have a great deal of respect, love, and admiration for). I’m privileged in that regard. So many people have it worse. But, there are still certain things that trigger an immediate strong anxiety response. One of them is seeing that I have notes that aren’t just reblogs or likes. For some reason, when I see a number above that little lightning bolt (or when I saw the activity tracker go crazy on older tumblr) it just makes my heart start pounding. It’s not that I think I might be wrong. I still welcome correction and critique of my opinions. It’s not that I don’t want people to reblog my stuff, or comment on it. That’s (1) not my choice and (2) absolutely silly.

It’s more that I’m anxious about how the response is going to make me feel. Some of the angriest I’ve been in recent memory is reading tumblr posts. The angriest I’ve been since the whole... grandfather who was like a father to me died due to medical malpractice thing was when I read a response to a post I made about genocide. The second angriest is when I read a response to a post about Charlottesville. The angriest I’ve been in recent memory is when I read that post that brought me back to the website where people were encouraging others to resist unlawful arrest and citing to a case that was outdated.

I’m not an angry person. I don’t like annoying myself like that. But for some reason, I just can’t help myself sometimes. The number of times I’ve been annoyed enough to want to respond to something in recent memory is... quite high. Sure, there are times where I come back just because I want to check my messages, see something positive, or a question and then am inspired to write something. But that’s not what it usually is. Not really. It’s usually the educator/ elitist in me who wants to correct something that he sees as wrong. And when that thing is dangerously wrong or disingenuously wrong, well that creates some emotions considering that I like to believe that people operate in good-faith and this website really stretches that belief sometimes. And sometimes I can deal with that, and sometimes it really, really bothers me.

I’ve also discovered that I really don’t get very much from tumblr. I used to use it as shouting to the void, and as an activity I could do other than just playing video games and procrastinating on my school work. Well, I do a lot of things now. I have a lot of friends now, and more school work and obligations to student organizations, law journals, my summer internships, etc. I used to use tumblr as a way to feel like I was smart. To feel like I mattered and that I could do great things. I have other ways of doing that, as well as a lot more internal self-esteem and external validation of that self-esteem. Back when I made my tumblr, I was convinced that I was a bad person. Now, I know I’m not, and am in fact a pretty good person. Back when I made my tumblr, I had no outlet for the intellectual energy other than my long-term girlfriend and school work. Now, I have so many outlets for that energy, that it’s honestly mindboggling. Oh, and I still have that same now very-long-term girlfriend (just in case anyone was curious. Our ten year anniversary is next year. I’m 25. I’ve been dating this woman for almost 40% of my life. And she’s honestly fucking amazing, brilliant, and I’m so damn lucky to have her.). It’s not like I’m starved for interaction or avenues to pursue anymore. When I made my tumblr, I was convinced that I’d fucked my life up to such a degree that I was never really going to be able to un-fuck it. Now, I’ve shown myself that I was wrong. I was really, really wrong. About a lot of things, but especially that. I’m not the same person as when I made my tumblr. Not at all. And that’s a really good thing.

But when I go and look at some other people, some other blogs that I used to follow/ still follow (I’m not going to name names), I don’t see that kind of change. I see that they are still the same (or very similar) people. It’s been years. They’re talking about the same things, using the same words, etc. That’s... crazy to me. When I logged on to tumblr this fall and I saw that fucking Charlottesville was somehow still a debate topic, I just about lost it. There’s a post I made that accurately summarizes some of the emotions I felt, but really a lot of it was that this website is Neverland. If you stay here, you likely never grow up. All that happens is that the Wendys, Johns, and Michaels decide that they want to grow-up, and leave to go and do so. So, all that’s left are the Peter Pans and Captain Hooks engaged in constant warfare about the same things for weeks, months, years. And when a Wendy, John, or Michael decides to come back well. Neverland is still the same. Welcoming them back to the same fight that they remember from years ago – from when they were a different person. I don’t know why, but that’s just so damn sad to me. There’s a reason why my old bio said “just a human striving endlessly for the perfection that he can never hope to attain.” Because that’s what I do. And tumblr has kind of an... anathema to that and is antithetical to the concept.

So, tumblr gives me little to nothing, pisses me off, and its never-changing or evolving nature makes me sad and goes against my very being. So, why come back at all? That’s... a damn good question. Not really sure that I can answer it. I suppose the answer has to be that there’s no good reason to come back, but that I will likely continue to do so anyway. Call me a masochist if you must, but sometimes there’s something that I want to share (or that I think the people who SOMEHOW still follow this dead-ass blog should know), or an idea that I think is useful, or I just so happen to type a “t” on my keyboard and tumblr gets pulled-up and I see something and decide to post on it, etc. and I come back. VERY temporarily. Only until I’m pulled away or driven away again. I think that’ll probably keep happening. At least to some degree.

Will I ever come “back” like I was in undergrad or the summer before I got my job? I don’t know. Signs point to “no,” but I’ve been wrong before. I’ve been oh so very wrong before. And maybe I’m wrong about what tumblr gives me. Maybe I can have a healthy relationship with this website to the point where the reblogs don’t give me anxiety, and I’m not either sad or angry (to some degree) when I make a response. But right now, I really doubt it. And I’m sorry if I’ve disappointed anyone, but that’s just where I am right now.

So yeah. I think that’s it. I’ll be around temporarily right now (my internship has really good hours, and I’ve got time in the evenings before I game with friends and talk to my girlfriend to take a look at some things). But come the end of August, I’ll likely be gone again. Maybe even before that. I’m not going to close this blog (because I’ll likely be back again), but content or opinions are never going to be consistent.

If anyone wants to talk, feel free to message me, send an ask, etc. Seeing as I’ve basically dumped a lot of stuff at once (and broken some of the wall separating “TND” from me as a person) I’m down to answer pretty much anything.

#personal #personal thoughts #why i am like this #original content

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toonstarterz · 6 years ago

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BECAUSE I’M NOT POPULAR, I’LL READ WATAMOTE: CHAPTER #162

Tanabata has come around once again to offer a generation of high schoolers some false hope in order to distract them from the cruel reality that is life. At least, that’s what the old Tomoko might’ve thought. While the world ultimately didn’t hand everything to her on a silver platter, Tomoko’s half-hearted hope did actually manifest into something she holds dear. The question now remains...

What does she strive for now?

Chapter 162: Because I’m Not Popular, I’ll Make A Wish

“I wish that Watamote would get a 2nd season!”

Ahem...moving on.

Nothing like a little friendly brooding to start the day.

In a weird, ironic way, Yuri seems to empathize with Tomoko over mutual apathy. The one constant they share is that they both like to take the path of least resistance in life. While Yuri may be a little off the mark at times, having that unspoken bond is a great point to start from.

So we knew Nemo recognized that Tomoko was a former loner, but Yuri, too? Then again, it’s been hinted at before that Tomoko is kind of an open book and that the people around Tomoko are more perceptive of her than she’d like to believe. So yeah, Yuri knew Tomoko barely had friends before she met her (a fact that likely fuels her codependency tendencies). But like any good friend, Yuri stuck around despite that history.

Still can’t get over her casually calling her Yuri-chan.

For a hardcore introvert like Yuri, doing something for the sake of being social with no practical purpose seems illogical. It makes total sense that traditions like Tanabata aren’t really her cup of tea. Just how much Yuri is aware of that is still kind of fuzzy, but no less endearing,

Reiterating a joke I made in the previous chapter, but Tomoko really ought to take a crash course in psychological projection.

Taking a stab at Yuri’s desires, now...I’d say it would be to have someone who really understands her. Or for Minami to lose her fang. Either or.

Wow, I wouldn’t have figured that Ucchi was the type to write in all caps.

I always wondered if the sugar-sweet and dragged-out way that moe anime girls yell “Senpaaai!” was actually grating by real-life Japanese standards. Looks like I was right.

Now those school fan clubs for the ridiculously attractive girl/guy that you sometimes see in manga are starting to feel pretty legit right now.

“Pfft, basic bitches,” thought Tomoko.

Smooth like butter.

You know, I think that Tomoko being unable to come up with something is a solid indication that she’s relatively satisfied with her life right now. Sure, she has career goals and whatnot, but she no longer feels troubled by material desires or short-term gratification. Like Yuri, it may be that Tomoko has more intangible, emotional desires that aren’t easy to put into words. But also like Yuri, Tomoko may have recently already gained that.

Occasionally–just occasionally–a few earnestly pure-of-heart moments from a cute manga girl is all you really need.

...Especially when it’s immediately offset by Tomoko being Tomoko.

Ohhhh, boy. That last comment by Tomoko is opening up all sorts of questions regarding her sexuality. I’ve mentioned before that Tomoko may be dealing with some sort of gender dysphoria and I think that’s becoming more apparent than ever. For one, her totally normal-not-at-all-creepy desire to NTR her kouhai assumes that only a guy could do that to Hirasawa. It also implies that Tomoko would only acknowledge liking girls if she identified as male. Not once did Tomoko consider that she, as a female, could NTR another female. All in all, there’s a bit of internalized homophobia, repressed sexuality, etc. at play here, and it’s going to take a bit of soul-searching for Tomoko to sort it all out.

Once every thousand years, we get some actual chibi art out of this series.

Bless you, Nico Tanigawa.

The best part of this Hirasawa-vision is that Tomoko is drawn exactly the same, just with lighter tones. Hirasawa’s not blind, just optimistic, which makes her heroine-worship so much more earnest.

Normally, super innocent girls like Hirasawa who get overly excited on trivial things tend to rub me the wrong way, mostly because I have a hard time thinking young girls are that simple-minded. But there’s something about Hirasawa that feels genuine. It may be because her excitement feels like its deriving from a sense of loneliness. Like an overreaction from latching onto any lure of female friendship.

It’s also just cute.

Tomoko...I’m pretty sure that’s your confirmation bias talking right there.

We don’t even need to see anything above the waist, but you can tell exactly who this is based on context alone...

I was wondering how Ucchi actually manages to do that Darth Vader thing with her mouth...

...then I remembered how her face looks and it makes perfectly no sense.

Guys, I...I think Ucchi finally broke.

Actually, Miyazaki, it may not be phrased as a wish, but it definitely is a wish...

I really enjoy the little bits of characterization in everyone’s wishes. For Yuri and Tomoko, like the BFFs they are, they have the same, most basic wish since they don’t really have any other burning desires. It’s also short and sweet, and without any fluff, as they would normally be if speaking out loud. And lastly, Yuri doesn’t leave her last name, as if she doesn’t want to attach herself onto her wish that far.

Katou, on the other hand, is all giddy and sweet, using words like “hope” and “together” when effectively making the same wish. She uses “we” without naming anyone, making it an all-inclusive wish. Just what you’d expect from the class mom.

Tomoko’s habit of “lying on reflex” actually makes a great deal of sense. She’s the type who has trouble expressing her vulnerabilities, and lying is a standard defense mechanism, just like Yuri’s noncommital attitude, Nemo’s passive aggression, and whatever Katou most certainly has.

Oh, Yuri, you precious bean. I know jokes aren’t your forte, but your emotional responses–or lack thereof–makes for a great punchline.

Did ya’ll notice how Tomoko’s second wish is exactly what Imae wished for last year? Tomoko may not always make the best decisions when comes to carrying the torch of The Great Megumi Imae, but you can’t deny that she’s making a concerted effort.

Guess Tomoko isn’t the only one with enough nerve to turn a Tanabata wish into a dirty joke...

Damn, we all knew that Fuuka was getting an unhealthy fixation over Katou and Tomoko’s “secret” relationship, but never to the point where it was affecting her studies, and by extension, her after-high school prospects. It hints that the series may be taking this misunderstanding into a direction that’s not entirely played for gags. It’s a risky move because such a development could easily come across as contrived if taken seriously, but if they keep it character-driven a la Ucchi, it could make for some really engaging moments.

C’mon, Fuuka. How did you think people were going to take that?

Of all of the people who’ve been “corrupted” by Tomoko, Fuuka may be taking the most damage out of all of them. Poor thing.

Let’s see here...

Sometimes I worry about Itou’s sense of self when she always identifies herself by her relationships with others.

Yo, Komiyama doesn’t even bother mentioning the Lottes by name because “Who else of any importance could it possibly be?”. Never lose faith, Komi.

Sweet, naïve Mike. She (and her boyfriend who’s somehow still kicking) is set up to be this series’ greatest tragedy.

This is Tomoko Kuroki, everyone. The girl who can’t see the raging emoji-faced horndog right in front of her, but will misconstrue a single misunderstanding as a pervert. Selective perception, ain’t it?

Well, it is a great opportunity to anonymously judge people’s inner desires, so Tomoko’s probably right.

Here we go again...

Nice to see that Nemo has practical, but optimistic expectations for her goal. She knows that she’s in her prime and is ready to hit the ground running.

The thing about Yoshida’s wish is that it implies that she knows she’ll be faced with resistance. Still, I gotta respect her individuality.

Okada’s wish feels like a cry for help if you look at it another way. That’s probably not the case, though. Probably.

That’s the beauty of it all, Tomoko. In the end, you really didn’t do anything. At least, not directly. What you did was make yourself into an example for Nemo to follow. One of Tomoko’s greatest attributes is that she’s unapologetically herself, which is how she eventually got noticed–and in Nemo’s case, admired–in the first place.

Quakey legs + short people problems = cute Tomoko.

Aw man, what I wouldn’t give for this to be a running gag. That in all those chapters where Tomoko was all alone, there was actually somebody she knows now that was in the scene, too. It (sort of) first happened with the dick-pics-in-class chapter and the three-legged race guy, after all. Poor Tomoko has all this baggage that can be used against her now.

For those with shitty memory like me...

“I want to lose my virginity in a year so I don’t lose track of my bigger goals.”

Of course, she’d forget about the part that actually mattered.

Well, you know, Tomoko, they do say that every joke/lie has a kernel of truth.

I noticed that a lot of (comedy) manga seems to like elevating the value of losing(or saving) one’s virginity to absurd levels, at least in the inexperienced minds of its teenaged male characters. Tomoko herself has perpetuated this notion in the past. But even so, the “in-universe” outside of Tomoko’s mind never really aggrandizes sex, and I find that it to be a very refreshing change that shows how, in reality, as Nemo suggests, losing your virginity isn’t really that big of a damn deal.

Good ol’ Tomoko logic at its finest.

Nemo looks...surprisingly serious about that. Normally that kind of talk would catch her off guard a little, but she had no hesitation with that retort. I think that’s solid evidence that Nemo has done more research into the nature of the voice acting industry, especially after Tomoko unintentionally trolled her with that eroge.

This could lead to even more intellectual (if not openly sexual) conversations between Tomoko and Nemo that go beyond their usual bantering. That’d be pretty lit.

Well, if Tomoko is a direct reflection of the author, then she probably thinks light novels are mostly for loser otaku trying to live their perverted fantasies through self-insert literature (at least, what I gathered from Write Sisters).

Well, I’m be damned if that isn’t blatant foreshadowing for where Tomoko’s future is headed.

Even though I saw it coming a mile away, it still gives me the warm fuzzies.

As fantastic as it would be for Tomoko to be an accomplished light novelist with Nemo voicing a character in her anime adaptation, I feel like that level of success would be a little out of reach for this series’ approach to realism.

If I were to look into the future, I’d say that Tomoko would write a light novel that’d be successful just enough to be greenlit for an ultimately mediocre anime adaptation. And Nemo, being a rookie, would either be not cast at all, or be given a bit part for a background character.

Of course, that’s all speculation. As Nemo says, the freedom to dream is the one thing we can count on. And if there’s one thing the mangaka has learned from doing this series, it’s that being realistic doesn’t mean you can’t have a happy ending.

I guess being considerate/decent to complete strangers is still locked out of Tomoko’s comfort zone.

I think we found a member of Rena’s family.

Man, the more we get these tidbits of Imae’s legacy affecting the school (and Tomoko), the more nostalgic I get for her. I sincerely hope we get to see her at least one last time before the series is over.

And in tried-and-true Watamote fashion, we get a little bit of Tomoko’s wisdom to end off another thought-provoking chapter.

In retrospect, there wasn’t a whole lot of “action” in this chapter that could be built upon later. It was mostly a series of gags sprinkled with some nice conversation (at least until Nemo’s part). One of the core themes that Nico Tanigawa seems to be playing with is, “Now that Tomoko has come this far, where does she go from here?” And the answer is...

They don’t know.

Legitimately, I don’t think the mangakas know exactly what Tomoko’s endgame will be. Sure, they have some strong ideas in terms of school and career, but nothing definitive. As s result, I think playing with the gags and jokes a bit more is their way of “stirring the pot” and seeing what comes out. All of Watamote’s greatest developments did originate from comedy, after all. The first Tanabata chapter is a prime example of this, and I have no reason to think that the stars of the second Tanabata chapter won’t shine over Tomoko once again.

#watamote #watamote review #chapter 162 #no matter how i look at it it's you guys' fault i'm not popular!#tomoko kuroki #yuri tamura #mako tanaka #shizuku hirasawa #emiri ucchi #asuka katou #sakaki fuuka #hina nemoto #review

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kenzietranslates19 · 5 years ago

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[TEXT] Suzuki Airi Second Album Info

I've been translating songs like crazy for three months (2 or 3 a day), so this was a fun little thing to do to change things up (and also to update this blog... oops).　Airi　announced　the　details　of　her　upcoming　album　in　December　and　the　following　text is taken from the album's page in her official website’s Discography section.

Please don’t take this translation and claim as your own. You’re free to use it, but please credit back to me here. I’m not asking for much, it’s not difficult, and is the respectable thing to do.

If anyone has any corrections or suggestions (especially in regards to wording of the translation), feel free to pop a comment down below - I’d love to hear it!

Red: Parts I don’t quite understand or can’t wrap my head around

Orange: Parts I (kinda) understand but can’t figure out wording, or struggle with putting it together in a way that makes sense.

Green: Notes on corrections made

Blue: grammar I wanted to make note of

Purple: General notes, thoughts

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鈴木愛理1年半振りのセカンドアルバムは、先行シングル「Escape」「IDENTITY」に並んで、今話題のOfficial髭男dismが楽曲提供・演奏で参加した「Break it down」、夏ツアーのパフォーマンスで多くの涙を誘ったwacciの名バラード「別の人の彼女になったよ」。

Suzuki Airi's second album after 1 and a half years, alongside (tracks from the) preceding single, "Escape" and "IDENTITY", is "Break it down" that current topic* Official Hige Dandism provided the music composition for and participated in the performance of, and wacci's famous ballad "I Became Another Person's Girlfriend" that induced many tears during performances for the summer tour.

* It’s literally “current topic”, but I think it’s basically trying to say that they’re currently a hot topic in Japan as they’ve had some recent popularity this year. Wasn’t sure how to word it so I left it literal.

名プロデューサー本間昭光アレンジ「気まぐれ」、巨匠斎藤ネコのオーケストレーションによるゴージャスアレンジの「パラレルデート」。加えてライブで大人気のダンスナンバー「STRONGER」、「TRICK」等、初音源化含めた2019年・鈴木愛理が詰まった全12曲を収録。本人自ら作詞・作曲に参加した曲も多く、まさに鈴木愛理・等身大の「私」が色濃く出たアルバムです。「i」は愛理の「愛=love」でもあり、「私= i」の意。

"Kimagure", with an arrangement by famous producer Honma Akimitsu, and "Paralle Date", a gorgeous arrangement that resembles an orchestra by master Saito Neko.

As well as the dance numbers very popular at lives, STRONGER, TRICK, etc, Suzuki Airi compiles all 12 songs that were packed into (and first heard**) in 2019.

With many songs that she wrote the lyrics for herself and participated in the composition of, it's just Suzuki Airi (as she is). It's an album that marks and leaves a faithful depiction of "me". ***

"i" is from Airi's "Love (Ai) = love" and the meaning of "I (watashi) = i".

** I completely understand what this is supposed to say but have zero idea how to formulate it into English. The word “初音源化 “ was super tough to figure out because I couldn’t find a translation of it aside from Google Translate’s “first sound source” - so that little bit says “2019 that included the first sound source”. Basically it’s saying we first heard these songs this year, or at least that’s how I understand it. So that said, I struggled with the wording of this part but the basic idea is there.

*** I struggled with the wording of this part too - it’s essentially saying that the album is a great representation of who Airi is, as she played a larger role in the creation of the album tracks than in the previous album.

尚、初回限定盤には『Escape』ツアー・パシフィコ横浜公演のBlu-ray付。

In addition, a Blu-Ray of the Escape Tour at Pacifico Yokohama is included on the first-press limited addition.

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GRAMMAR: でもあり- "and"

(I keep coming across this on Airi’s site when I’ve been translating stuff like this and I always forget what it means. I’m assuming it’s a more formal “and” used for professional stuff and whatnot.)

VOCAB: 振り (ぶり) - after (period of time) again (e.g. meeting again after a year); for the first time in (period of time) 先行 (せんこう) - preceding; going first; leading; going ahead; taking priority 並んで (ならんで) - alongside, side-by-side 話題 (わだい) - subject, topic 楽曲 (がっきょく) - musical comp., tune 提供 (ていきょう) - offer, providing, supplying 演奏 (えんそう) - musical performance 参加 (さんか) - participation; joining 誘う (さそう) - to induce (tears, laughter, sleepiness, etc.); to arouse (e.g. sympathy); to provokeOnly applies to さそう巨匠 (きょしょう ) - master, master hand 似寄る (による ) - to resemble 詰まる (つまる) - to be packed, to be full 収録 (しゅうろく) - compilation, editing 加えて (くわえて) - additionally; in addition; moreover; at the same time 大人気 (だいにんき) - very popular, highly favoured 等 (など) - etc 含める (ふくめる) - to include 本人 (ほんにん) - the person in question; the person themselves 自ら (みずから) - oneself 等身大 (とうしんだい ) - life-size / true to life, faithful depiction, realistic 色濃い (いろこい) - marked; pronounced; strongly tending to 尚 (なお) - furthermore, still, yet, in addition 定盤 (じょうばん) - surface plate 付き (つき) - furnished with, including / attached to

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bookwormchocaholic · 8 years ago

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The Lonesome Road: Chapter 5

A03

Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four

SYNOPSIS: Belle is drawn to her employers’ neighbor and is surprised when he offers to help her out of a difficult situation.

Note: Not beta-ed, expect mistakes.

Note #2: This is meant to be the last chapter, however some people have expressed interest in Cora receiving a comeuppance. Please let me know if you think I should write something in regards to that. Thank you.

Rating: M

Special thanks to @onceuponanovel for the gorgeous artwork!!!!

Belle dropped her suitcase and carpet bag in the middle of the room, took a seat on the sofa and wiggled off her wedding ring. The beautiful stone seemed to blink in the lit room, sending her a mocking wink. It had all been a sham. Rowan never cared for her; she was just someone to warm his bed, fix his meals and carrying his child.

The baby. That was all she would be taking with her. The books and clothing and whatnot was staying with him. If Rowan wants Cora, so be it. But I will not be playing second fiddle to that woman! Nor will my child be raised in an immoral house. She loved Rowan dearly – at least she had loved the good man she thought he was – but she was not about to demean herself to keep him. They’d divorce, she would take the baby and find work somewhere, and it would be like she had never known Rowan Gold. And if he loved Cora so much, he could continue on with her. Take her off Henry’s hands.

Belle placed the ring on the table and sniffed. She had thought she had cried herself out an hour ago, but she could feel the reservoir of tears was filling back up.

Wilby crept in from the kitchen and let out a small “arf” as he ambled over to her. He laid his chin on her knees and swung his gaze up to hers. His eyes seemed to be pleading, Please, don’t leave me!

Belle shook her head. She could not give in on this.

She heard the shrill peel of the truck as it stopped and the engine gave one last cough as Rowan shut it off.

Wringing her hands, she straightened her posture and braced herself, knowing that the next few minutes would not be pleasant. But it had to be done. For the baby’s sake as well as her own.

The door was shoved back, far enough to bump into the doorstop. Rowan shuffled in, carrying a large object cloaked in an old white bedsheet. Whatever it was, it obscured his view and he remained unaware of what awaited him until he put the object down…next to her suitcase and carpet bag.

Wilby shied away from the big object, wary of it.

Rowan straightened and his widened eyes flickered back and forth. Once they settled on her, he staggered back a few feet as though he had been slapped. “Belle? What are you doing? Belle?”

Belle rose and crossed her arms. Good, he was blind-sided. As was I when I learned of his affair. “I know where you were!”

“Do you?” Rowan cast a quick glance at the large, still-unidentified object.

“When we married, I could accept that you had a past.” Belle fumed, furious that he dared to act as though he were the wounded one in this. “I had a past too. But we vowed to forsake all others and you’re still carrying on with Cora Mills!”

“What? Belle, no, it’s not what you think!” He reached out to touch her arm, but thought better of it and let his arm dangle at his side.

“No, I’m talking!” Belle pressed her palm to her chest. White hot rage bubbled through her veins, giving her the courage she needed to stand up for herself. “You’re my husband! Mine! And we’re having a baby. Either you will be faithful to me or I will divorce you! Do you understand me?”

She began to feel giddy and touched her brow. Sucking in a breath, her lungs refused to contract and a cold sweat broke over her body.

“Belle, sit down!” Rowan grasped her by the shoulders and guided her back into the sofa. “Breathe for me, love.” He knelt down before her and rested his forehead against hers, rubbing his hands up and down her arms to chafe the circulation back into them. “You have to calm down or you’ll make yourself sick. Shh…”

Belle squeezed her eyes shut and took slow breaths and her body began to relax. She opened her eyes and had not realized that she was crying until a couple tears fell and Rowan brushed them off of her cheeks. Oh, how she hated that he knew how to sooth her, especially when he was the one who caused this kerfuffle.

“Why?” She locked eyes with Rowan, deciding that she deserved the truth, and wouldn’t settle for anything less. No matter how gentle he was being to her. “I thought we were happy. I thought you cared for me.”

“We are happy and I do care for you.” Rowan’s glistening eyes frantically searched hers. He stroked the side of her jaw with his knuckles. “Belle, you and the baby are my whole world. I swear on the life of our child that nothing happened.” He continued, “I was driving along and one of the Mills girls ran out onto the road to get me because Henry was gone and the lock on the door was busted in. So, I got Marco and he fixed it. Then Marco and I…we went to his barn, he has a workshop, he works with wood.”

Rowan twisted and jerked the sheet off. It was a cradle. “He taught me how to make a cradle. That cradle. It was to be a surprise. That’s where I have been the lately, with Marco.”

Belle grasped the edge of her skirt, wadding it in her sweaty fist and felt like a fool. Other than not being home the last few nights, Rowan had never given her any reason to doubt his devotion to her. Yet Cora knew how to play on her insecurities enough to stir up trouble. Dear Lord, he has to hate me now! After all, she trusted the word of the woman she despised over the word of the man she loved. Somehow it had been easier to believe that Rowan would prefer Cora; sly, cultured, beautiful Cora.

“Belle,” Rowan covered her hand, lacing his fingers together with hers. “Cora and I were involved ten years ago. I should have been honest, but I never mentioned it because I was ashamed, and I didn’t think you could look past my sins.”

“What sins?” Belle mustered, afraid of what might come to light now.

Rowan’s expression was sheepish, his mouth twisted ruefully. “Cora and I were carrying on while she was engaged to Henry Mills. She said that she’d break it off with him and that we would marry. That is what we agreed to do. Henry made investments in stocks and was prosperous for a while. Cora chose to go ahead and marry him and we went our separate ways.” He shrugged one of his shoulders and sighed. “I invested in the stock market too, and did well, but I pulled out before it crashed. I wanted to show Cora that I could make something of myself and I did. Henry stayed in too late. A couple years ago Cora wanted to reconcile, but I knew better than to get entangled with her again.”

Belle exhaled, unaware that she had been holding her breath. Cora had lied about the whole thing. Yes, she and Rowan had been involved, but she had been the one to throw him over for a fancier life. But in Rowan’s story, he showed himself to be in the wrong too, rather than laying the blame all on Cora.

“I kept my distance until…” Rowan shook his head.

“Until?” Belle probed, unable to let it rest.

“Until you went to live with the Mills’.” He finished, his voice so low that it was almost inaudible. “I’m not great with words, Belle, but I love you. I should have said so sooner.” He managed a wry smile. “I loved you for a long awhile, but you were the minister’s daughter and I didn’t think your father would have accepted me as a proper suitor.”

Belle gasped. He had loved her all this time and waited years to pursue her.

“I hope I can find a way to prove my fidelity to you.” His grip on her fingers tightened. “I’ll do whatever it takes. I’ll-”

Belle licked her lips and cupping his cheeks, she dipped her head and kissed him. “I love you too. I’m sorry that I doubted you.”

“I’m sorry too, for keeping secrets.” Rowan replied and brushed lips against hers, then her nose, and cheeks, and forehead.

Snatching up the ring off of the end table, he slid it back on her finger.

He joined her on the sofa and was nibbling his way down her neck, easing her back into the cushions.

Belle moaned as he settled between her thighs and fumbled with her buttons on the bodice. “The cradle looks beautiful. I can’t wait to see our baby in it.” She pushed his suspenders down, untucked his shirt, slid her hands beneath the material and scraped her fingernails against his back. “What do you think of the name Gideon?”

“That’s a very fine name for a boy.” Rowan mumbled, leaving small bite marks along her collar bone. “A girl might not like it so much though. Rose would be good for a girl.”

“Sounds perfect.” Belle took his face in her hands and kissed him soundlessly.

No longer did she have to travel the lonesome road – she had Rowan and the baby. She had a family.

#tlr verse #rumbelle fic #rumbelle fanfiction #historical au

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streetyouthministry · 5 years ago

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Christmas for SYM Clients

Merry Christmas!

As the time to share that greeting rolls around each year, I think of the 3,000+ clients our ministry has served since we began in 2008. What kind of Christmases will they have?

Thanks especially to social media these days, we know more of the answers. Some clients have excelled, and they’ve written us. A few lives ended tragically. Other clients intrigue us – they surface periodically to say “thanks” or share news, infusing us like the episodes of an old-fashioned serial, complete with cliffhanger endings.

Such a continuing story this year was shared by a client whose street name was “Powder”:

2012-13, off and on – Powder attended a few of our events back before we had our Drop-in Co-op, and he came to the 2013 Christmas party at All Saints Episcopal. He was using drugs at the time, and he ran around with friends using street names like Merce, Grinch and Bean.

We hadn’t seen Powder since 2013, then he resurfaced three years later with a Facebook message:

1 a.m., June 16, 2016 – “You probably won’t remember me. I hung around for a little while in 2012-2013. I remember speaking to you multiple times at the Drop-in. I don’t know how many success stories you hear, but I just wanted to let you know that I haven’t done dope in 2 1/2 years and I just bought my own house in a suburb of Kansas City.”

I checked into his records and finally ran into an old photo that summoned memories. What I didn't know was how deeply we had changed the direction of this young man's journey. Powder and I had the following Facebook exchange, edited for space:

Terry: “Well congratulations on all that! … I always love hearing from people who are doing well. You'd be surprised (or maybe you wouldn't) to know that it's a whole lot of people!

Powder: “I was pretty nondescript and tried my best not to be noticed. If you don’t remember me that doesn’t hurt my feelings, I remember you and the rest of the staff and how much the simple things y'all did for me helped. It made me feel like an actual person.”

Terry: “I know your face. I don't yet recall your street name Powder. I'm really glad we were able to love on you a bit and that it helped. What made you decide to retire and get sober and all that?

Powder: “I just got tired of living that way. I went to jail for a few months, then a psych ward, and then a rehab program. After that I just decided I wasn't going to go back and live that way again, so I got into a halfway house and got a job and all that.”

Terry: “Cool. I'm glad. I assume it's better for you? Doesn't have to be, but is faith a resource for you at this point?

Powder: “I struggle with faith and spirituality. I have had a lot of things happen, seen things and whatnot, but it just doesn't seem to "click." I haven't had the spiritual awakening or whatever you want to call it.”

Terry: “I'd say be patient with yourself and stay in touch with that part of you that knows or wants there to be something bigger than us. It doesn't hurt to hang around people who are further along than you are, but not to let them tell you what to think. Just to learn and see and feel how it is for them. I'll be praying for you in that regard. Any other way I can be praying for you? Also, could I use your words to encourage others? I wouldn't use your name unless you want me to. Recovery is a long road and it's great for those who feel like it may never happen to them to hear from people like you who were around quite a while but are recovering!”

Powder: “Yeah sure, I appreciate all your help, past and present.”

Fast forward three years, four months. I heard from him again:

11:08 p.m., Oct. 5, 2019 -- “Touching base again, Terry. I just want to say again how helpful the Drop-in was to me at a time when I needed it the most. I’m still sober, haven’t touched drugs or booze since January 10, 2014. I’m still bouncing around, but I’m in much better condition than I was back then, physically and spiritually.

“I have a skilled trade. I’m a butcher. I work full-time and I can’t help but feel like I’ve left that world behind. It’s for the best, but some of the happiest moments of my life happened on the Drag. I’ve noticed that it’s almost like a class graduating: people I knew ended up dead, in prison or clean, and a new generation came to replace our spots.

“Now I’m sitting on the couch in a home that I ‘own’ and watching cable. I’m not in Missouri anymore. but that’s where I learned to butcher, in a family-owned shop that was looking for some help during deer season. I managed to leverage that into a union full-time job at a grocery store. I’ve tried to settle down a couple times and it just hasn’t worked out. I think I just enjoy being a rambler.

“I’m still not sure where I stand on my beliefs. I go back and forth a lot. I’d like to settle down somewhere, That’s the big one. I want to continue this trend of “living a normal life” without being too boring. Maybe I just need to find a hobby. I’ll get back in touch with you again when I think about it.

Terry: “How old are you now?”

Powder: “I’m headed toward 27, I was 19-20 in Austin.”

Terry: “You're right on track. I find a lot of people who hit the road for whatever reason start settling things at about 26 or so.”

Powder: “That’s nice to hear, honestly. I had a lot of people ask me when I was in high school and “full of potential” what I wanted to do with my life, and when I would say “ I don’t know,” I’d get the same long and boring lecture about needing to do something important.

“I wish someone would’ve told me, or I would have known that it’s totally OK to make $35,000 a year cutting meat and going fishing every day before work. I’m never gonna have a lot of anything, but I have enough of the stuff I want and a plan for the immediate future, which is to move someplace that has trout and moving water so I can learn how to fly fish.

“I just wish I could’ve started on this path five years ago and not be struggling toward it now. I suppose you know what they say about wishing in one hand and doing something in the other. I just have to remember I’m not that old yet, and there’s still time. Pleasure to have met you, Terry.” Read on... for the follow up story of Powder https://streetyouth.blogspot.com/2019/12/defining-our-life-purpose.html

via Blogger https://ift.tt/34I46mt

#Blogger #client #client solution

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aliceviceroy · 7 years ago

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Part I - The beginning

Five years ago, there would be no way in hell that I could ever conceive of leaving the Christian faith. But here I am today, only mere months after I finally garnered the courage to change my Facebook status (oh, heaven forbid!) and be public about my faith...or lack thereof. Friends have asked me why, and how, someone who was as zealous a Christian as I could so intentionally and deliberately leave the faith, so I decided I am in a good, and secure place... and I'm ready to answer why.

Before I go into the full reason, I feel the need to offer a couple of disclaimers. The first is that I feel in order to fully explain why I left the church, I need to offer some background into the events that led up to this decision... so bear with me, and please respect that this is not an easy article to write. Also, what makes this article especially difficult is that in writing it, inevitably I will be thinking of people who have influenced my decision to leave the Christian faith, and some of those people might find themselves reading this article. I do not wish to speak ill of anyone, and I will do my best to not name anyone outright, but people who know me well enough might be able to identify people I reference, and for that, I apologize. I do not wish to put anybody in a bad light. Do I have friends that are Christian? Yes. Do I care about them very much? Yes.

With that being said... this is what happened:

To start at the beginning, I did not grow up in a Christian home. My parents, who are two loving and supportive people, both grew up in Christian homes (Dad was Lutheran and Mom was Catholic) but both stopped going to church very quickly after they grew up. For reasons I still don't exactly know why (except that it was "the thing to do") my sister and I were baptized as Catholics, and we went to the Catholic school down the street from the house where I grew up, out of convenience. This Catholic school was next to a Catholic church, and that Catholic church had a youth minister who would come next door to the school with his guitar, come into class, and play cheesy Christian songs (like "Shine Jesus Shine") and it was awesome because we didn't have to do math class anymore!

But also, when I was a kid (and this should come as no surprise to anyone who knows me) I was totally that awkward kid, with the bad haircut and glasses and my nose in a book all the time. I saw this individual and this youth group he had as a welcome invitation, to make friends and meet people who were welcoming and would accept me unconditionally for who I was, books and all. And I was exactly right.

I started going out to this church youth group and felt very welcomed, and loved, and developed a very positive friend community that had a great effect on my self-esteem. My teenage years were very happy, and I do want to stress that.

As far as Catholic churches go, this particular church had more of an "evangelical" edge to it, and was pretty strongly influenced by a revival movement, very similar to Pentecostal revival movements, that had hit the Catholic church in North America in the '80s. What I mean by this, is that there was an altar call kind of moment, there was a "movement of the Holy Spirit," so to speak, and a moment where I "accepted Jesus into my heart" -- looking back, I'm not sure if this was a true moment or not, or that I was swept up by the emotions of the event involved: the music, the charismatic speaker, and whatnot.

I also wonder if I "accepted Jesus" because all my friends at that time had already done so and there was a bit of peer pressure involved. Either way, I really did love Jesus. Hardcore. I kept my bible in my backpack, I went to church every week (it was also convenient because I played piano for various church choirs so I had a commitment to go, and playing was so easy and fun for me) I even prayed the rosary. Every single night. There was none more zealous than I, and I'm sure this caused me to be alienated even more from my peers, but at the time, I didn't care, because to me, I had a god who loved me, so who gave a shit about what other people thought?

Part II - Since when do parking lots cost $40,000?

At the end of my high school career, I applied and got accepted into a year-long missions program where you travel across North America going to churches and go to Ghana. This is where my seemingly unshakable faith, started to crumble. I can confirm that there are some pretty corrupt churches in Southern Ontario/the United States. I know, because I've been to them and spent time there. Churches where there were pastors literally screaming at each other behind closed doors, (we were at one church over the Easter weekend, and minutes before the service had started for Easter Sunday, found out that the two pastors had been screaming at each other and threatening to quit... minutes before the service started); churches that were blinded by capitalism (I cannot understand the justification of the money spent in mega-churches) and authority (I had someone tell me to "Please, refer to me as Pastor _______").

We went to a church where they were holding a $40,000 fundraiser... for a parking lot. And yes, they already had a completely functional parking lot, but they wanted a nicer parking lot. I was furious at the thought, especially when we had just gotten back from Ghana and had encountered some of the most blatant and unfair forms of poverty I had ever seen in my life. When you see enough of the nasty underbelly of churches, you're left with a really bad taste for the hypocrisy, politics, and gossip that seemed to be a trend with most churches we went to.

The one thing I seemed to continually come across, was the fact that I was Catholic, and the majority of churches we were visiting were very Protestant. According to a lot of these people, I'm not a Christian, or a REAL Christian, and the Catholic church is a terrible corrupt place and the Pope is the anti-Christ and Catholics are just misguided Mary-worshippers... I have heard it all. And the thing is, Catholics feel the same about Protestants -- they have "some of the truth, but not all of the truth."

So I was suddenly finding myself in a constant year-long debate against what felt like everybody I came into contact with, because the form of Christianity I subscribed to, was different than their form of Christianity. So who was right? They think they are right, and I think I am right. And I grew to learn, that people don't like the idea of being wrong, and I had to become comfortable with the fact that I could be wrong, and that it's OK. I could grow, I could learn, being wrong wasn't bad, it was good because then I could correct what is wrong and learn from it.

But further than that, this thought caused me to realize, how arrogant I was, to think that my form of small-town Southern-Ontario Catholic Christianity was the only way that people could come to know God properly, when there are billions of people all over the world who reach out to all kinds of higher powers and forms of spiritual enlightenment all the time? And those people feel the same kind of assurance, peace, and goodness that I do? I can't have the nerve to say that these people were wrong because how they relate to their god is different than mine, when all I have to justify my belief is a book. Which is exactly what I was doing. And exactly what those people who thought being Catholic was wrong were doing to me.

Part III - What happened out there

After the year was over I went to university, and after my first year of university, I had a very difficult summer. I couldn't find a job, so I tried to make a go of it and started my own business, which is incredibly stressful as it is. I was also very lonely, which made me very vulnerable. A person whom I thought was a friend paid to have me fly out to visit him in Vancouver. I was also incredibly naive at the time and didn't think getting sexually assaulted could possibly happen to me on this trip to Vancouver... but it kind of did. And I was in a terrifying place, having no money, being thousands of miles away from home and friends and familiar faces, and having no means to escape and run away.

I can't explain how horrible it feels to not be able to run away when you're in danger. In the Christian faith, especially conservative Christian faith, there are a couple of very large no-no's, and sex before marriage is one of the biggest ones. I've heard and been to talks where people equate pre-marital sex to losing your value, or being like a piece of tape that gets stuck and re-stuck until it can't stick anymore, or a bank account where you're cashing out money until you have none.

At the time, I very heavily blamed myself for what happened to me and was terrified to let on in even the remotest sense that anything bad (that I didn't consent to) had happened. A large portion of my reasoning was those analogies about what happens when you have sex before marriage kept playing over and over again in my head. I also had this stupid thought, that since I was regarded as a leader, I can't let anything bad happen to me, or show any kind of indiscretion.

It's horrible how deeply I blamed myself for the whole thing, which is so wrong, and so harmful to do. I felt tremendously ashamed, as though I had done something wrong, and this was a tremendous lie that took a long time to get over. Oddly enough, I only ever had one friend who directly cut through my bullshit story and asked me what really happened. Only one, out of all the friends who knew I was going. And I was too afraid to tell him, and when I finally did, he reacted in a way that made me feel even more wretched about myself. (He and I have talked about this and apologies have been made.)

But still, I wished somebody had warned me, or said something, or kindly reminded me to be careful. I had one friend email and caution me against going... two weeks after I had gotten back. Two weeks too late. And when I finally started to tell people what really happened, a lot of people reacted inappropriately, saying that I should forgive the guy, or that God was going to heal me, or that good things will come out of it. Just for future reference -- don't EVER say those things to someone who has been sexually assaulted. It's ignorant, rude, and dismissive, and caused me to feel further alienated.

The question, "where was God?" kept on asking itself to me as I tried to process what had happened. God is supposed to love me, and protect me, and keep me from harm. This is what I had been taught, yet here I was, feeling like my church had failed me by keeping me sheltered and naive, and feeling like I was continually let down by Christians in their dismissive, harmful reactions when I had finally got the courage to stop thinking about those "sex before marriage ruins you" analogies and talk about what happened.

I reasoned two things to answer my question about where was God, when I was in Vancouver: God either was present and there, and did nothing about it, or God was not there, and does not exist. It is easier for me to think that God does not exist, than to think that God was present and did nothing. A God who is present and does nothing is not all-powerful, and is not all-loving, and I simply cannot forgive a god who stands by and watches while people get hurt after he promised to protect people. If I had the power to stop something bad happening to someone I loved, I would do everything I could to stop it. Of all of the times in my life that I needed God, God was not there. This is where I stopped believing in God -- I would rather think that God simply does not exist, then think that God abandoned me.

Further than that, I began to think of how randomly senseless the world could be. I grew up in a safe and loving environment in a stable country with a good economy. The majority of the world cannot say the same. Where is God then? I had people ask me to pray for them in a village we were visiting in Ghana because they have no clean drinking water. Where is God then? I met a homeless person in Toronto who asked me to pray for him so he could overcome his drug addictions and find a safe place to sleep that night. Is God protecting him? Where is God in the face of natural disasters that destroy countries and leave countless numbers of people devastated? How can an all-powerful, completely loving, benevolent God allow that kind of random injustice and suffering?

I started to think of the many times where I have heard other people, and have also found myself, thanking God for being present in the little things -- God helped me ace that test, or God helped me get to work on time, or God led me to my true love. How incredibly selfish is it for me to reason that God is always present and doing little magical things to make my life easier when there are people who live in this world who don't have the basic necessities for living?

And then, maybe those people in that village in Ghana do get clean drinking water one day, and they are thankful that God provided for them. What kind of God denies people basic necessities for living and then demands their thankfulness if he does choose to provide? I would rather that God does not exist, than choose to follow that kind of god.

Living with this secret, this "sin" made me realize that I didn't feel welcome in the churches I went to anymore, and the times when I felt most welcome, were the times before anything bad had happened to me... which feels very backwards to what I understand Christianity to be about. The more I started doubting my faith, the more the bible made perfect sense to me, and the easier it became to read: Jesus loved the poorest of the poor. He spent time with the prostitutes, the tax collectors, and the people with the worst reputations, and loved them unconditionally, contrary to the culture they were a part of. God wasn't a god of the rich and powerful, but a god of the outcast and enslaved, who freed oppressed people and stood for the rights of the downtrodden.

So naturally it would feel like this kind of unconditional love, and this unity and welcomeness should be extended to all people, regardless of gender, race, and class, just as Jesus embodied in his life. Yet I fail to see that in so many churches. I've encountered too many Christians who (for example) would rather argue about the theology of whether a homosexual person is an inherently disordered individual living in sin according to the book of Genesis... rather than recognizing how deeply harmful those kinds of dialogues are and the profound effect that kind of thinking has on the lives of people.

I know I speak broadly, and am at risk of generalizing, but too often I feel like in so many parts of the North American church, there is far too little emphasis on an ongoing option for appropriately caring for the poor, and that such care manifests itself in ways that do not "inconvenience us" or involve colonialism (like short-term missions trips, for instance).

In a Facebook note where I wrote about these thoughts many years ago, I said,

"It has become too easy, too passive, and expectations have fallen too low. Where is the challenge if I begin to feel like the view towards salvation is that it is assured simply because I fill up a space in a church pew? There is too much brokenness in this weary world, and too great a responsibility, and (by the way...) saving souls should never, ever, ever, be thought of in numerical terms... Don't give me a church with good music and good public speaking. Give me Jesus. Give me the courage that Jesus had to love tax collectors, prostitutes, and to approach the lowest caste, the diseased, dirty, and dying, and love them. Don't give me an altar call and have the nerve to tell me that all I have to do is kneel down, say 'yes,' and that is my way into heaven. Give me the weight of the world, and the responsibility of the impoverished, the dying, and the hungry."

I found myself continually dissatisfied, and unable to justify this kind of "feel-good" attitude I found in so many churches I encountered. I was very quickly running out of answers and reasons.

Part IV - Nails in the coffin

And then a couple of things happened, that in my mind, I refer to as the "nails in the coffin." There were of course many things that happened, many negative conversations and traumatizing experiences, but I'll talk about two of them that encompass the spirit of most of what happened, for the sake of length. (We all know this post is long enough already...lol). The first "nail" that happened was that I volunteered at a weekend youth retreat that I volunteer at every year, and for the first time in a tremendously long time, deeply related with what the speaker had to say.

The people who organize the event (who are also good friends of mine and the organizers of the year-long missions program I went on) had invited a speaker they had seen at an earlier event, and his message was very clear, and very simple: It is OK to doubt your faith. In fact, doubting your faith and questioning it helps your faith to grow. Also a person's actions are a reflection of what they believe. If, in my actions or inactions, I am supporting systems or institutions that enable oppression, this is what I believe in.

I loved his message. His message resonated deeply with me, and for the first time in this dark night of the soul I was experiencing, I felt a glimmer of light, and a chance for encouragement. I could doubt my faith, and that was OK. However, I was one of only a few people who resounded with what he had to say. Many, many people at the event thought his ideas were "heretical" "un-biblical" and couldn't believe that this "non-Christian" was speaking at their event. People were walking out on talks, arguments were taking place all over the grounds this event was held at, and the poor speaker was getting harassed everywhere he went.

People were telling him they needed to pray for him to receive Jesus into his life, saying he was a heretic, and looking for opportunities to argue him at every turn. The hardest part for me, in the midst of witnessing this insanity, was that a lot of the people who disagreed so strongly with him were people I knew personally. People whose churches I had visited, or people I had lived with or worked with or spent extended time with. And they were saying that it's not OK to doubt your faith. In fact you are not allowed to doubt your faith, and if you're doing so, you're not a Christian.

This broke my heart, and I realized that these people I had known for years were not safe people, or kind accepting people that I could be open with my struggles about. (I need to offer a disclaimer: not all of my friends, including my friends who organized the event, hated what he had to say. A lot of people related to him the same way I did, and that meant a lot to me.)

After the event, I knew the organizers would receive piles upon piles of angry emails, and I made an attempt to curve the anger away from them by writing a Facebook note, and circulating it on social media. Within three days of writing the note I had over 120 comments on the note, and piles of messages in my inbox. I had angry messages, messages from people who were "concerned" about me, but I also had a couple of messages from people thanking me, for having the courage to openly express what many people were afraid to say.

That also floored me more than anything -- other people out there felt the same, and that they were part of a church where their opinions weren't welcome, and felt oppressed and unable to say how they felt and where they really stood with faith. In this regard, the church was unwelcoming. The next year at this same event, the speaker they invited was conservative, and talked about the usual stuff; how you should accept Jesus into your heart and all that. Then I realized how much a consumer culture permeates so many churches -- that my friends can't even use their authority in planning this event to challenge people in a healthy way, but that they are still held at the mercy of giving people what they want to hear. This really disappointed me.

The second "nail in the coffin" was at a summer camp I volunteered to be a counsellor at. At the camp, I was asked to give a talk. This was a Christian camp, and I asked them what they wanted me to talk about (I was good friends with the organizers) and they said, "Anything. We trust you." So I was faced with the challenge of giving a Christian talk to a bunch of teenagers at a summer camp, and I didn't know what I would say. In fact, I had to give two talks, and this made me very nervous. I didn't want to lie and say something I wasn't sure I believed in, nor did I want to say what I actually thought, and draw a lot of negative attention to myself.

I had a long conversation with one of my close friends at the camp about my dilemma, and he advised me to speak what I believed in. So I wrote a letter to the church, and I spoke very honestly. For the first time in front of a group of strangers, I told them what happened to me in Vancouver, and I talked about the residual effects, and the doubt I was experiencing, and where I was presently. And the result utterly shocked me. People were thanking me for being so open, and kids were confiding in me, and telling me their struggles, and how they were not sure of what they believed in, and why. It opened the floor for a very open and vulnerable dialogue among people who were willing to accept one another.

For the second talk, I decided that, rather than present my "letter to the church" I would invite people to collectively write a letter to the church, and we could continue the conversation about where they stood with the church and how they felt about it. A couple of people who hadn't been at the first talk came to the second talk, and one individual in particular got very upset, and started saying that I was sinning, and "demonizing the church" and how dare I say anything negative about the church. My attempt to explain that we weren't being negative, but rather allowing a critical analysis of an institution we all cared about ended with her running away in tears, and completely derailing the conversation.

I attempted to try and find her afterward and try and patch things up, but she started screaming at me, accusing me of putting her in an unsafe place, and again, being a sinner who demonizes the church and is a horrible, horrible person who is completely wrong, heretical, and evil. I couldn't talk to her, and something about her words cut straight to me, and I ended up leaving and having a full-fledged panic attack. I realized that no matter what I do, no matter how strong my efforts and what I would say, there will always be people who think I'm against the church, or that I'm a horrible heretical person who is trying to destroy their beloved church, and that more than that, I was evil.

And in that moment, I suddenly became very, very tired of the uphill battle I felt like I had been fighting on for years, and I desperately wanted to distance myself from the institution I was once willing to give my life for.

What was difficult about this was at the time, I was actually working for a church, as a youth pastor. But I no longer believed in the work I was doing. It all seemed very silly to me, and like a big masquerade.

Every Sunday I had to perform a "children's focus" where I would sit at the front of the church and all the kids would gather round and I would give a little bible lesson. The children's focus is not about the kids, nor is it about educating kids. Rather, it is for the adults, so they can look on and say, "oh look how wonderful it is that the children are learning," when all the learning and activity was happening in the actual Sunday School. The whole point of this stupid weekly presentation was to appease the adults, and I couldn't stand it.

Once I had an individual in this church complain to the pastors that I didn't look "reverent" enough during the church service, and it really discouraged me. Church shouldn't be about looking reverent, but it felt like everything I was doing was all for looks, and there was no substance to what was actually going on. I began to grow sick to my stomach every time I pulled up to the church and forced myself to walk in the door, and to this day, I feel sick to my stomach at the thought of churches. I eventually had a very honest conversation with my bosses when my work performance began to fail, and I decided to quit the church and ended on good terms.

Part V - Enough

Since then, I have received a lot of mixed reactions from being honest about my faith. For years, I had been terrified to tell anyone that I wasn't a Christian anymore, because I was afraid of all the relationships I would lose, and all the people that would distance themselves from me. To me it feels like there's a tremendous stigma in a lot of Christian circles about people leaving the church, and this assumption that I'm not a good person, or a person Christians can be friends with, because my views are now so different.

A lot of Christians I had met would refer to people who weren't Christians as "nonbelievers" and talk about atheists in this sort of vernacular that reflected an "us vs. them" attitude, as though these "nonbelievers" were a part of the world, and that the world was a corrupt and evil place filled with all sorts of depravity. "We are of the world, but not of the world," is a catch phrase I often heard, and while I appreciate holding onto certain traditional values about one's conduct in life, I didn't want people to think of me as "of the world" -- when they were thinking of the world as such a terrible, evil place.

I was really scared of telling people. What I started to realize though, is that people had been distancing themselves because of my views for years already, and that I didn't want those kind of people in my life. I would rather be friends with people who would love me, regardless of my beliefs. And I am very happy and grateful to say that I do still have friends that are Christians, and our beliefs and views are very different, but that hasn't had an effect on our friendship. That was very huge and important to me, Other people have, yes, chosen to distance themselves from me, or let our friendship "fade away" or have told me they were disappointed in me, or even worse, call me a hypocrite or tell me I'm going to hell, or try and re-convert me. If people are that angry and insecure... there's not much I can do about that.

My decision to leave the Christian faith didn't just happen because of a few negative conversations, or a few isolated events (though from my story, you can see how huge of an influence those events can have) -- my decision was made because I realized (and experienced) that the Christian faith, for many, wasn't a welcome place for the oppressed, and that, in fact, has been, and in many different ways, continues to be, an agent of oppression for many people.

Many church denominations interpret the bible to say God destroyed a city because of homosexuality... so therefore all gay people are bad? Many church denominations also interpret the bible to say that a woman should be silent in church, and they are not meant to be leaders, so consequently, even to this day so many churches can't accept the idea that women are capable of leadership? (I know someone who can't have the title "Pastor" because she is a woman. She is just as qualified as a man, but isn't allowed the same title... because she is a woman...?)

Historically, a lot of Christians had used the bible to justify slavery. And I have no idea how to interpret the stories in the bible where God commands people to commit genocide, or God destroys populations and wipes out cultures, and tears entire cities to the ground, or floods the world sparing only one family and a bunch of animals. But even fast-forwarding to today, it feels like so many Christians I met were content to pick-and-choose the parts of the bible they would follow. To a lot of people, the idea of condemning someone for getting a divorce is unthinkable, but discriminating and denying rights to people based on their sex, gender, or race is acceptable.

There is a clear double standard in many Christian denominations, and because of that, churches are actually not a place for fellowship for everyone. One person told me, in a conversation we were having about abortion and human rights, that if a child gets raped, she has to keep the baby. I know that these attitudes are reflective of the extreme and fundamentalist side of religious belief, but regardless, these were people I personally knew and connected with that said this to me, and I never thought I had come from a place and had relationships with people who could demonstrate such intolerance.

Fundamentally, morally, and ethically, I cannot follow a religion that would advocate such hate, judgment, and ignorance. I know that a lot of Christians do a tremendous deal of good things in the world, and advocate on behalf of many oppressed people, but I still really sorely miss the critical conversations where these double standards exist in the bible, the interpretation, and how that enacts itself in the world, and wish for more Christian leaders to speak about these issues. So maybe it should be up to me to fix the church, but it got to a point where I started to realize this kind of hate is larger than just a problem that needs to be fixed, but that it is ingrained into a really big part of Christian culture in North America.

So many church denominations are content to split up if they disagree; people believe so strongly and fervently in their interpretation of the bible they would sooner split up their church denomination than actively dialogue and try to understand one another. And for all of the things I can do, I cannot go up against that kind of strength of belief -- to many, it is church doctrine, and not something that simply changes. One person messaged me and told me she was disappointed that I left the Christian faith, and I responded by saying,

"I'm disappointed too. I am disappointed in the churches I was in and how they failed to teach me compassion, and failed to be a safe place for the oppressed and marginalized, but rather continued to be institutions that perpetuated colonialism, capitalism, and patriarchy. Certainly there are groups, and individuals working for justice in the name of God, but I was too overwhelmed with seeing years and years of injustice and hypocrisy and so many churches across multiple denominations who were keen to push their own political agendas at the expense of the people they are supposed to be reaching out to. I also realized I could still do good in the world, and fight against injustice and oppression, and not have to do it with a Christian agenda, but simply because it's the right thing to do, and for the sake of building a better world. It took me years to come to terms with not believing anymore, and then even longer than that afterward to be open and honest with myself and others about it, and that's only been a very recent development. And believe it or not, I'm really happy right now. I have a life that I love, and people that I love, and I feel like I'm doing meaningful things."

Were there times when I felt the presence of God? In looking back, most of those times where I "was moved by the holy spirit" were influenced by outside factors, like loud uplifting music, or other people and emotions running high, but there is one moment I can't explain. During a church service in Ghana underneath a straw canopy, somehow everything felt very different, and I felt like I was aware of a "sacredness" to everything and everyone gathered. I've never felt that feeling again, and I'll never forget that feeling, and honestly, I don't want to reason that feeling away with excuses involving heat or dehydration or exhaustion. For some reason that moment was special, and it will remain so for me.

My dissolution of my relationship with God was not because of the negative interactions I experienced with Christians, but that I genuinely feel as though a relationship has been broken. From that moment in the darkness in Vancouver, where I couldn't answer the question to "Where was God?" I continued to feel betrayed, and come up with questions I couldn't answer. I couldn't understand what kind of god would create people, and in one breath, tell them they are perfect, that he "knew them while they were in their mother's womb" but then tell them they are inherently disordered, or can't be leaders because of their gender or race, or creates people who are inherently sinful?

I believe we weren't given a "choice" to follow god based on the eating an apple in the Garden of Eden, because now our "eternal life" is wholly dependent on us loving God. There's no choice. How can that be true love? "Love God, or go to hell"? How cruel is that? It doesn't matter to me whether God exists or not -- it more matters as to why he didn't do anything when I needed him, and remains not present in so many instances of suffering around the world, historically and presently. Honestly, I left God, before I left the church, and I was heartbroken to leave him. Moments like that moment in Ghana, which felt like I was aware of something so profoundly more greater and beautiful than I can reckon, remain to me to be memories from a relationship that has been lost, and one that I miss terribly.

Do I still care about faith? Very much. Am I still interested in discussing and conversing about the implications of faith in this world? Very much so. There seems to be an assumption that because I'm not a Christian, I no longer care about religion, but I do very much, and still wish to be included in the dialogue. There is a very very fine and delicate balance between the relationship of people based on their beliefs, allowing room for dialogue, and the opportunity to learn from one another. Like the lesson I learned so long ago, it is difficult, but so right to exist in the liminal experience that is being able to be wrong, and being willing to learn from one another, and, like that speaker at that event taught me, have the courage to hold your faith and ideas in an open hand, and truly see what it is they are made of.

I realized that I can be a positive force for change and that I don't have to do it with the motivation of "ministry" or "outreach" or "winning souls for Jesus" -- there was one speaker at that Christian event I always went to who loved the tagline "Gettin' sweaty for Jesus!" and I realized I didn't want to get sweaty for Jesus. But for other people? Most definitely.

I no longer want to feel like I'm incapable, or inherently flawed, or unable to do things without God. It feels more empowering, great, and wonderful to believe in myself, and know I can do things because I can. And that I'm not a product of sin, but a human being with wishes, hopes and dreams. I have infinite possibilities, not because a god allows it to be so, but because humanity has been, for thousands of years, in the midst of evil, war, and greed, working to also create goodness, and build a better world, and I can continue on that fight for a better world, not for the motivation of heaven at the end of my life, but the assurance that my children and children's children can continue to build, innovate, and create in a better and more beautiful world than I can imagine.

And that, to me, is enough.

#fuck christianity #secular thinking #atheism

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