Catholicism and Me

I grew up catholic and like a stereotypical catholic girl whose family is super involved in the church I came to college with the mindset that I would never set foot into another mass again. I even had a plan where I would look up each week’s readings so when my parents called I would be able to discuss a possible homily with my dad and reassure my mom that I definitely still believe in god. Hopefully it would take away some anxiety from my parents because they were so worried when they found out that my new home wouldn’t be surrounded by crucifixes and priests. During this last summer I felt my parents influence fade away as my love for this omnipresent lord diminished. And to be totally honest I didn’t mind too much. The idea of a higher power controlling my eternal fate by setting up boundaries for me to be confined within annoyed me to say the least. I regretted my confirmation and remembered when I would tease myself back in those days with daydreams of flicking off the cardinal and tipping over the sacred chrism. I wish now I had at least said no and not allowed this unwanted sacrament to pass over me. However at the same time Catholicism was and is very much a part of my overall identity. I grew up at my home parish playing on the school’s playground, going to festivals, getting my dolls baptized. It was my home away from home when my parents had meetings for bible study and marriage counseling sessions.  So when I started losing my faith I felt almost a nostalgic pull to stay. Similar to how some feel towards the end of high school. You hated the place for four years but for some reason senior year is different it becomes “your school” and it’s a part of your identity now whether you want it or not because you went through it. And so as a senior about to leave for something new and exciting you still want that last year to last as long as possible. Now I’m at a place where I’m not ready to approach my parents because telling them something this big is unfamiliar. So on Sunday I went to church. And I felt so uncomfortable and out of place. I sat in the first row with someone I can only describe as a short term lover, and every time I felt like running out I gripped her hand tighter. Which was a lot since I felt like I was so obviously not meant to be there which is sad because all the students there were very nice and inviting and wanted me to be there but I just wanted to scream and hide and cry. After the mass I awkwardly stood around until there was just a few people left and we were all speaking to the priest. I finally got the courage to ask if I could speak to the priest alone. Everyone cleared out and now I was sitting across from the priest getting a slight amount of anxiety since the only other times I had sat in front of priest in this manner I was confessing my dirtiest sins. As the familiar lump began to form in my throat I explained my situation to the priest. I mentioned the email that my father had sent him earlier in the week about me possibly helping in the mass since I was an alter server and lector back home. He said yes that he had talked to my dad and my stomach dropped a little. This man could tell. I was holding a girl’s hand the entire mass and not like friends hold hands. He knows. This is how my parents find out. This is horrible. As these thoughts race through my head I calmly ask the priest not to mention my sexuality to my parents. He was very nice about the whole thing and said that it was my own business not his. I calmed down a little and switched topics a bit. I went into nervous-fueled detail about how I got to this point in my faith.  The priest reassured me and without involving god a whole lot. He said one thing that resonated with me about how maybe I am meant to go through this so that I can help others. Which is something I thought about a lot when first coming out. This priest was very devoted to a point that he was understanding of others without compromising his own core values or judging them in the process. In this way the priest reminded me of the scene from “Report from the Bahamas” in which the narrator is speaking to the student that she describes as a WASP. In this scene needs are not discussed but instead wants and how those wants connect the two characters. The narrator wants to create a change and therefore does these things that the student finds incredible and wants to replicate but finds that she cannot. In the same way the priest has a love for his faith and lord because at some point he desired a change in his life since at one point he was actually an atheist, and I wish I could be that devoted to Catholicism, mostly for convenience, but find that I cannot right now. Last summer before I came out to my first friend I had a deep connection with my faith. I was also outside every day in August baking under the hot Texas’ sun in preparation for marching band and very rarely using sunscreen and I was about a million shades darker than I am now. So when I saw this quote in June Jordon’s “Report from the Bahamas” I very much identified with it in a literal sense. Like the narrator “…the skin on my body has changed and so has my mind.” And I’m finding that that is okay. I can allow myself to adventure into a world where a god doesn’t need to exist in order for me to feel fulfilled. See what not going to church on a regular basis is like. I’m not the same person I was last summer. I’m not where I thought I would be either. Catholic might be a part of my identity and it might always be but it doesn’t have to define what I choose to worship or not worship. I had a connection with the priest that was actually created because of my father. It’s a bit ironic because the priest validated my feeling in a lot of ways, and made me feel like it’s alright if I needed a break from the church, and my father was trying to make sure I kept of my faith. The connection was important. It helped me process a lot of the negative thoughts that were racing through my head in the last few months. I probably won’t be going back to mass.