#just some ramblings from last night cuz i was choking on my own mucus and couldn't sleep
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teenage edgy atheist me would be SO mad at me being into religious symbols and concepts now lmao
i've been thinking a lot about how religion affected me deeply despite my family never being particularly insistent on it... like most people in my circles, i grew up as watered-down catholic. nobody was going to church or reading the bible, but we'd go to people's babies' baptisms, I'd chant a guardian angel prayer my grandma taught me every night, and despite my school being secular, we had an optional "religion" (catholic) period in elementary which most of our parents signed us up for.
i've heard horror stories from people who went to actually religious schools, run by nuns or priests, but this was different. my impression is that the school system never took this religion class too seriously, so there wasn't really a specific curriculum to be followed. the teachers would rotate constantly, and there was 0 consistency to the kind of activities we did. we'd dance and sing songs and play games, and then a teacher would pull a written test out of nowhere. the result being i was never properly explained the basics of it.
i was born catholic by default so i had to somehow know what a sin was already (the word sin in spanish sounds almost like "fish": pecado and pescado, so i spent YEARS believing "sinner" was some sort of fisherman metaphor), i never understood what use jesus's death had or why pilatus "washed his hands". i knew adam and eve were not supposed to be taken as real but then why was the rest of the bible? i was immersed into this strange lore that i couldn't make sense of and nobody was interested in explaining it in detail.
the only devout person i knew was my grandma. she was never the hateful discourse type nor did she go around spouting lore that would help me understand. like many women she was just very devoted to a benevolent god and to the virgin mary as a mother figure (i remember a prayer saying "mary, mother of god" and i was confused af since hadn't god created her?).
i'm not entirely sure where my fear came from. i remember my mom just once or twice mentioning god, she was probably just annoyed at me, and said god was going to punish me for whatever i was doing. and i took that SO seriously. i'd also always assumed hell was some sort of temporary place where you just had to repent for a while. i mentioned it once in the car and my dad calmly clarified that no, hell was forever. i was devastated. i became convinced that i was somehow evil and used to picture a scene in my mind where a cartoonish devil would appear in my room at night to take me to hell with him.
i eventually grew out of this, thankfully. we had our first communion ritual through the school, i realized it made 0 sense to me and became an edgelord atheist at 11, to my poor grandma's dismay. but i think the fear and the guilt and this idea of being constantly watched and judged still traumatized me a little. years after i'd stopped believing, i continued to whisper "sorry" to the air after doing something wrong.
but my whole point with this, i guess, is that i've found a new appreciation for my experience with religion. i still have a poor opinion of most it, but there's many elements i'm starting to enjoy thinking about. especially the ones pertaining to latin american syncretism, like the focus on the mother figure amidst absent fathers (i guess you could say god is latam's absent father too), loved ones becoming angels that stay around and look out for you, or miracles sprouting from tragedy. i'm also very tormented by death and it's somehow so comforting to make art about it. i really look forward to continue using these elements in the future🧸ྀི໒꒱⋆
#just some ramblings from last night cuz i was choking on my own mucus and couldn't sleep#me#religion#peklo
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