Searching for Fulfillment

I'm going to apologize in advance for the length of this post. I didn't anticipate that I'd have so much to say.

Although I don't think that this is something that is unique to me (Hello there, quarter-life crisis group!), searching for fulfillment is something that I have been undergoing for a while.

It has been years since I have been trying, and sometimes not trying, to reconcile my issues with religion. Going way back, in the first years of high school I went to church on a semi-regular basis and was actually baptized as a born-again Christian. Even at this point, I felt that this was all being forced on me. I didn't feel as genuinely enthralled into this new religious regimen (my mother and I used to be Catholic but I use that term very loosely) as my mom. Even being baptized felt like a sham.

Let's back up a little. I suppose you can say that I never really was a part of a religious family. It has been me and my mom for as long as I can remember and she has always been so preoccupied with making ends meet and more practical things, that I never really saw her as a religious person when I was growing up. By all means, I do not mean this to sound judgmental or critical. I am grateful for everything my mother has done and look up to her for being able to do so.

Despite our priorities, we were not an Atheist family. As I alluded to earlier, we were "Catholic." In Miami, we have our own breed of Catholicism. Mostly, this group is composed of Hispanics that don't necessarily participate in religious services, go to church, or adhere to any of the principles of Christianity but call themselves that anyway. Another aspect of this group in Miami is the large population of Santeria and Santeros that we have here in Miami. It is not uncommon to go outside and see someone dressed fully in white, with shaved heads, and adorned with brightly colored necklaces. These are people newly involved within the practices of Santeria and this is a form of ritual. Most of these people, if asked, would still say that they are Catholic. Needless to say, there is quite the religious identity-crisis going on in this town.

As the years went on, it was my mom that began the soul searching around the time that I was 14, 15 years old she had a new coworker that is what I call a "hardcore Christian." This woman, lived and breathed religion. She was the type that wouldn't come back from peeing without receiving a revelation from God that she just HAD to tell the world.

I partly blame this coworker, let's call her Maria, for my feelings about religion. Maria just seemed to overdo it. Every single conversation with her was geared around God, prayer, church, visions, and the healing power. Don't get me wrong, in the beginning I was almost jealous of this intense relationship that she seemed to have, and wanted to try to achieve it myself.

In the following months I went along with her kids, who were around my age, to Youth Group, went on church retreats, and even on attended Sunday Service from time to time. It was around this time that I was referring to when I wrote that I felt like I was beginning to feel like I was "faking it." I just wasn't that into it. I felt hypocritical because as a teenager I had my urges and compromising moments, and unlike others I had observed at church, I couldn't go and pretend.
So, for years, I cut church out of my life.

Enter the college years. I moved on campus and shared my room with a self-proclaimed Atheist/Agnostic but shared our suite with two other girls that were very much into their Christian faith. I always seemed to be on the fence on the rare occasions that religion came up and eventually decided that I had issues with organized religion. I think it was my sophomore year when I agreed to go to church on Easter with one of my roommates.

This was such a scary experience! It made me post about it on my Facebook page, I called my mom and told her, and I just didn't know what to expect. I also feel the need to explain that this was going to be my first time going to a service that was in English. But "onward and forward!" I told myself. I went with my roommate and a rather large group of individuals from out university. This, in it of itself, was rather odd to me. These were people that were my age, that led normal lives, that I had common interests with!

Problem fixed, right? Wrong. I wish I could say that this was it, that I became more religious from that moment on, but this is not the case. Over the next 2 years I was developing different aspects of my life that I felt conflicted with a religious personality so I didn't really pursue it. But at the same time, I've always felt that I was missing...something. Y'know, that thing that you can't quite put your finger on, that puts a smile on your face even on the worst days, the light at the end of that tunnel, that fulfillment. I knew that religion was the answer, or at least I wanted it to be, but at this point I just didn't know what to do. My old roommate had moved away to another state and this meant I'd be going to church alone. This was just too much for me to handle, it still is.

I now find myself going with her whenever she comes back down to Miami but not in the periods that she isn't around. Recently, though, I felt that I am turning to religion to help me fill in the missing gaps in my life. I need that direction, that guidance. I do still like that same church but struggle to get up and go. they even offer online sermons so I might try that out.

I somehow expected this blog to be a more "I'm frustrated, wtf is wrong with organized religion and wtf is wrong with me?" kind of post but it turned into a history of my religious views. I'm sure there will be follow-ups of this as time goes on, so this really is a work in progress. (As am I!)


Hope I didn't bore you to tears, and if I did, get a hanky.