I Miss Fundamentalism, But I Would Never Go Back
I’m an atheist and bisexual. I still understand the draw of my former faith
I miss fundamentalism.
Not the dress code I had to follow (modest skirts and dresses only, no pants) that made me stick out from my public school peers during my teen years, which is among the highest forms of torture for an already-awkward teen.
Not the exhausting church services (two to three hours or longer) that we attended at least three times per week.
I miss the certainty. I miss having a code that spelled out who’s in and who’s out. I miss being an “us” instead of a “them.”
In some ways, I even miss the constant anxiety of wondering if I was good enough. It was a never-ending process of self-evaluation to see if I had sinned, if I needed to repent, and to try and discern whether I was following God’s will or my own.
It was a never-ending process of self-evaluation to see if I had sinned, if I needed to repent, and to try and discern whether I was following God’s will or my own.
God’s will never seemed obvious, but I could find it, I was sure, if I just looked hard enough.
