Play Date
In a quiet neighborhood
Tucked between accountability and appearances
I live among you – the outwardly faithful
With my soccer mom SUV,
Weekly gymnastics classes,
Over-the-top birthday parties,
Picky eater battles,
Car seat wrestling,
And inevitable grocery store meltdowns.
My silent anger presses
Behind my warm, neighborly smile.
Your small talk is carefree and careless.
Would you let your bratty kid
Play with my bratty kid
If you knew I was an atheist?
I grew up thinking something was wrong with me. My family has lived in Northwest Ohio since before the Civil War and yet I’ve never felt like I fit in here. My feelings towards religion have always been a glaring difference between me and other people in the area; however, this difference was more painful and destructive in my childhood. Everyone else was obviously seeing something I couldn’t. No one wants to be different as a kid, so I kept my thoughts to myself. (Although, that changed when I was a teenager.)
It seems like many question the existence of god as an adult, but did any of you question as a child? I have always been skeptical but then again I didn’t have much religious influence from my immediate family growing up. I felt pressure from classmates and their families.
I would go to church with friends and try to “force” myself to believe. My fellow churchgoers were probably unaware of my inner turmoil, but now as an adult, I wonder how many of them were in the same boat. There are more of us than we know. This thought inspired a recent poem of mine:
Stuck in the Closet
There are crowds of atheists
cloaked in the long shadows of steeples –
even more than we know.
They swallow the truth
Because they think they have to,
Because maybe they were raised that way.
One, two, ten years
In a dark closet –
Their thoughts echo in the loneliness.
They secretly question as
A tortured mind now liberated
But another voice suppressed.
They’re scared
But even more angry.
I know that innermost turmoil.
Let that anger fuel progress –
A passionate fire that lights the way.
The most liberated life is an honest one.
Humans are curious creatures and skepticism seems natural. You would think questioning god would be a normal part of growing up. It’s unfortunate that feeling skeptical at any age can be a painful experience – no matter how common it really is.
I wish I had the ability to tell everyone that has secretly questioned (including my younger self) that there is absolutely nothing wrong with him or her. Imagine how powerful that would be.
Did any of you have a time where you were questioning god in secret? Has being skeptical ever been a painful experience?
I really don’t think it’s anyone’s business what anyone believes in at work, but let’s face it; many people see their beliefs as an important part of their identity. They carry it with them everywhere.
Most people where I work are Christian and they’re not afraid to very openly express their beliefs. There have been more than a few discussions that have left me feeling uncomfortable. I fear discrimination and ridicule so I keep my mouth shut. At the very least, throwing my two cents in would make things extremely awkward, and there’s no escape – I need this job.
There’s been so many times where I felt I should stand up and address the issue – being an advocate in my own life could pave an easier way for local atheists in the future – but I always choose to just go about my business and say nothing.
Sometimes I think that maybe I’m too sensitive and it’s not as big of a deal as I’m making it out to be. However, deep down I fear that’s not the case.
How do you guys deal with situations like this at work? Have you ever faced discrimination?
I grew up in rural Northwest Ohio and although my family has lived here for several generations, I’ve always felt like an outsider. I struggled with my feelings towards religion throughout my childhood and frequently dreamed of moving far away.
When I was 16, I was given an amazing opportunity to study abroad. I spent one life-changing year in Denmark. When I say life-changing, I really mean it. I’m now 37 and my experiences in Denmark still affect me today. It shaped my values – how I feel about parenting, working, politics, social issues, human rights, and just about everything else.
In Denmark, I met people who were openly atheist for the first time. That had a huge impact on me a few years down the road. I had never met anyone who wasn’t Christian let alone an atheist.
Even though Danes are often known as quiet, I came back to Ohio pretty outspoken. Just knowing there’s a whole big world outside of Ohio gave me confidence. I was counting down the days until I could leave.
I had one more painstaking year of high school left when I came back from Denmark. It was the longest year ever. I was constantly protesting at our absurdly conservative “public” school. I even got a detention for walking out during the prayer at one of our football games. I was pretty proud of it. (Still am, actually.)
When I was in my early twenties and finally called myself an atheist, I thought about my experience in Denmark and I knew what I was doing was okay. I knew that there were lots of good people who were atheists – almost a whole country full actually. Just because I don’t fit in at home doesn’t mean it’s wrong.
Now that I’m a mother, I’m really hoping my daughter will get a similar opportunity one day. It would be hard to send her away just like it was for my dad, but I feel it’s an extremely important experience that can potentially shape a person’s future. I just hope we will have the resources at that time to make it happen.
Today I’m pretty shy. I tend to avoid social situations. I would love to be fearless again like I was as a teenager.
I did leave Ohio but only to return a couple of years later. Now I absolutely love living in Toledo. I have all the opportunities and conveniences of a city but I’m still close to my family in the outlying area. Plus, Toledo’s just a neat place. The city just has this spirit or attitude about it that’s hard to describe – gritty yet hopeful, maybe? We’re in the rustbelt but still kicking.
Sometimes I still feel like an outsider in Ohio, but you know what? This is my home, too, damn it.
My daughter is our only child and she’s only three, so we’re definitely learning as we go. In many ways, my daughter’s childhood is already very different from mine which makes me feel like I have even less direction. I spend a lot of nights worrying about what’s to come.
I’m very careful with my daughter when it comes to religion. I just don’t want her around it because I know religions prey on the young.
However, I also don’t want my daughter to grow up ignorant and afraid. I want her to at least know what religion is.
How do I balance between protecting her and adequately exposing her to the world around her?
I would like to think that young people are less religious than my generation and my parent’s generation, so maybe this won’t come up, but what if my daughter’s friends from school go to church and she wants to go with them? Peer pressure is a powerful thing. I want to say no but I also don’t want people to think I’m an asshole.
For the most part, I enthusiastically celebrate diversity, but I feel religious beliefs are one area of a person’s life that we can unapologetically judge. You can’t judge someone based on their skin color or sexual orientation because those are things you are born with. They are not a choice. However, religion is a choice and we criticize bad choices all the time.
However, I really do want my daughter to see and experience the world around her. I want her to have knowledge of different religions and cultures. I don’t want her to be afraid of those who are different from her.
I suppose frank and open discussions with my daughter throughout her childhood are necessary to tackle this issue.
At what point do a child’s own skepticism and common sense kick in? When is it appropriate to let them explore on their own?
I would love to hear from other atheist parents. How much do you expose your child to religion?
How do you guys feel about Christmas in a secular sense? Do any of you celebrate?
Normally my husband and I visit extended family and not do anything at home. However, this year our three-year-old came home from daycare talking about Santa. One thing led to another and now we have a tree with presents under it.
My husband assembled the artificial tree in our daughter’s bedroom a few days ago, and she proceeded to decorate it with hair bows and headbands. It looked kind of cool so we just went with it. It’s not like we had many ornaments anyway.
I usually hate this time of year. My threshold for annoying Christmas crap is pretty low, but it is cute to see my daughter excited.
I guess Santa’s okay, but if my daughter comes home from daycare talking about Jesus, then we’ll have a problem.
It’s always fascinating to listen to atheists and theists debate. For me, it doesn’t take much arguing to disprove the bible, but for many people, you can talk until you’re blue in the face and nothing will change. While these exchanges are always interesting, they’re certainly not what I’m focused on.
I am more interested in discussing everyday life as an atheist. It’s not as easy as a Midwest mom. Being an atheist is an important part of me, but I still have to go about my day here in Toledo with my family.
Even though I’ve wanted to write about atheism for a long time, in my everyday life I’m basically in the closet –mainly because I fear discrimination and ridicule at work. My daughter is only three so thankfully I haven’t had to deal with a lot of other parents yet. My family and close friends know I’m an atheist but that’s as far as it goes.
This blog might blow my cover, but I’m thinking it’s about time. I’m now willing to take that risk.
Atheists around the world aren’t always treated well, and I want to work to change that. I can’t help if I stay silent.
As a mom and atheist, I want to foster curiosity in my daughter. She has so many questions right now and she’s so fun to watch. She has absolutely no sense of “gross” yet and she’s fearless.
I also think it’s important to teach the importance of empathy. I want to refer to the humanist “good without god” saying. I will tell my daughter that we help other humans when we can because we are also human and it’s the right thing to do. This doesn’t involve a god or scoring points for entry to heaven.
I hope, as my daughter gets older I will have instilled decent levels of skepticism and common sense.
An even bigger hope of mine is that my daughter never feels like she has to hide her (dis)beliefs.
I would love to hear from others – especially parents – on how atheism plays into your everyday life. That’s something I really want to focus on. I spend too much time silent and angry and I’m curious how others feel. Leave a comment and let me know.
Hi! I’m Megan. I’m a wife and mother from Toledo, Ohio USA, and I’ve spent most of my adult life working in mental health and the arts. I love to write, and before coming to Free Thought Blogs, I was a blogger for a popular mental health site for two years.
I didn’t call myself an atheist until my early twenties, but my skepticism was definitely brewing long before then.
My family was Christian but didn’t go to church except for an occasional Christmas or Easter service, and even that tapered off as I got older. There wasn’t a lot of pressure from my family to believe one way or another.
However, I grew up in a conservative rural area and pressure came from others in the community. I was an outsider. I questioned Christianity from a very young age although I didn’t always feel safe doing so.
To make things messier, I have a mental illness that causes visual and auditory hallucinations. It really consumed me in my late teens and early twenties. The hallucinations were frightening and at the time there was no real explanation. I thought they were ghosts. What else could they be? Since I had usually been skeptical, this caused some serious inner turmoil.
Finally in my early twenties I was diagnosed with schizoaffective disorder and prescribed medication. My life dramatically changed for the better. When the antipsychotic meds kicked in and the hallucinations stopped, questions turned to answers. The hallucinations were this tiny thin thread – the only thing connecting me to spirituality. When it was broken, I felt clarity. I had an explanation. I finally called myself an atheist. 15 years have passed and I’ve never wavered from that stance.
You would not believe how grateful I am to modern medicine and science for creating medication that help stops the symptoms of schizoaffective disorder. None of my life would be possible without it.
It’s no secret that religion causes the majority of suffering in the world. We see it everyday and those with a heart are sickened by it.
“From the Ashes of Faith” refers to if and when religion falls, a liberated, more peaceful society will emerge. I think that’s something worth fighting for.
I am really interested in writing about secular parenting and atheism in the Midwest. I would love to hear from other parents. Social issues that are really important to me include income inequality, reproductive rights, and mental health, so you will probably hear about those as well.
Thank you for reading my first post! I plan on posting consistently although I have not completely decided on a schedule yet. Please check back soon as I settle into a routine.