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My Deconversion Story - Part 1
4 years ago
General
So, this journal certainly has been a long time coming. But I feel it's important to share as much as my story as possible here. A place where I know people can understand my upbringing and ongoing struggles as I embark on this new chapter of my life.
Growing Up in the Church
I remember the day vividly. On New Years Eve at the age of 6 in 1996, I accepted Jesus Christ as my Lord and Savior. It was a church that celebrated the Southern Baptist way and full of Hispanic people like my family. We have plenty of those down in Florida.
Side Note/Rant: I don't fucking care if you think that is too young for a child to make a decision like that, and then attempt to invalidate my "conversion" experience. So if you're a theist trying to shit on my validity as a former Christian, then you can fuck right off and pretend to know you how I feel. That is a dishonest way to engage in any further discussion about my deconversion, and I'm tired of it.
Anyway, I remember how everyone around me reacted, along with my own parents. They were truly convinced I had made the best decision in my life that day. I also remember how much simpler and fun things were in that environment growing up. It was where one of my earliest circles of friends formed after all. And the Bible was where I really reinforced my understanding of the Spanish language too, since my grandmother was alive. Spanish at home was practically required to keep the family circle intact, and going to church every Sunday helped me develop. It brought me genuine joy as a kid for sure, even though the sermons were less interesting than seeing how the faith has developed my friends. We did so much together out of church too, including hit up some local beaches and theme parks. I remember even doing a Boy Scouts equivalent of Christians, even though MOST of the activities were spent memorizing Bible verses. That always bothered me, but like a video game, I tried my best to earn some badges there.
But as I grew up, I noticed that some people have left my circle for no explained reason. My parents never told me why they didn't show up anymore, and it made me really sad. Then of course, I had to start sitting in for adult/main sermons, starting to get me quite bored of church when I became a teen. That was when the concept of a "Youth Group" came into my life. That was headed by someone that really put their all into planning sermons and activities for us. And then my interest was renewed. I never realized I saw church as a social club more than now. I felt really cool, knowing a lot of my school mates probably didn't have organized trips and fundraisers like I did. I remember all the times I went to Disney World too, and sharing some of my best memories there. I felt... like I was normal. That I wasn't some soul waiting to be judged in the afterlife, or worrying how "Christian" I looked to the world.
And then there was all the beautiful Easter/Christmas concerts I was a part of. It took little convincing to have me join the choir and sing my heart out. Although none of my friends too choir as seriously as I did, mainly stemming from my musical involvement in school Band classes. I got baptized at the age of 16 in a pool of all places. But then I took a Baptism course and got baptized at the tank in the temple to make sure I did it "right". My good life continued well through my High School years, all until something dire happened to my circle of friends.
A First Dose of a Cruel Reality
I admit, I lived quite a privileged childhood. I never dealt with shit parents, or lack of money, or drugs/alcohol. The state of my life was my biggest motivator to keep going to church despite how boring and derivative it got sometimes. My friends and learning about how Biblical stories applied to my life was my most important things ever. And yet, the first rock in this "ideal" state of life came in the sudden dismissal of the Youth Group leader. It turns out he was caught cheating on another woman, and then they had a divorce. The church took appropriate action to ensure such a "terrible" individual wouldn't poison the minds of the Youth Group any longer. That sweet wife of his then went on a tirade of being more of a zealot than kind believer. Her attire changed and she became a "Karen" for anything God related. I really came to dislike her demeanor and distanced myself from here.
The group that I was with continued to shrink, with only about 4 friends now from my early childhood days still part of the church. It was really depressing, and I was getting older too. The newer faces were a bit too young for my liking, and I found it odd for a nearly 20 year old me hanging with 13/14 year olds all over again. I also learned that one of my friends died in a drive by shooting as well. I was shocked to find out this friend of mine was involved in seedy places and likely the gang life. He died way too young for sure, and that struck a chord with me. I didn't know why God would allow these things to happen to people that seemed to have everything in order. It was then where my faith started to shatter a bit, but I had my closest friends and my own, loving parents to think of.
Discovering my Fetishes and the Furry Fandom
Of course, with things going slowly south at my church, I got a little too curious about pursuing some art of furry characters I enjoyed growing up. I always had a strange, warm and electric feeling watching certain scenes in cartoons growing up, and now I realized way. That being Krystal from Star Fox, of course. I explored and stopped at many points, shocked to find porn so easily. I felt awful about it, but then I realized. "These aren't humans I'm lusting over. I'm a growing man after all, I should indulge a bit. These women don't exist and won't get in my way to find my God given wife!" Things escalated as I discovered the wonders of Macrophile.com. I found my first furry artists to follow and facepalmed that I loved their work. Of course, I knew my parents would freak out if they found out I was growing fond of furry erotica, especially that of giantesses and hypers. So I started to build a stash on the computer my dad gave me for a birthday, figuring out on how to pleasure myself at the age of 18. I was a little late to the party, but that rush of libido was more amazing than anything a boring church would give me thus far, even the highs of Christmas concerts. Everything felt so formulaic and redundant at this point.
The discovery of the furry fandom was something I treasured because I discovered it on my own. I wasn't raised into it and been sent to camps, retreats, and groups to bolster my faith. It was rather freeing to have me not be disgusted with the idea of sex anymore. I wanted to naturally do more to be a part of it.
Cue the Brony fandom at this time, and that got my fandom life roaring in my 20's. Conventions, artwork, working on fangames, and eventually making my sona for the long term was mostly of what I cared about. A lot of my high school friends and church friends were gone at this point, so I had to reestablish myself socially. In 2014, I got onto F-List with my character, ready to meet some furs that caught my interest. In fact, I dated one of them! Such was a blissful couple of months, until one fateful August.
The Darkest Days
I was careless. I never bothered to put a lock on my phone. But as I was getting on the computer to address some stuff with my friends and girlfriend, my dad came into my room with a somber look on his face. A text came in from one of my furry friends. We were erotically roleplaying at the time. This was at a time before Discord took off, so I communicated through Skype and phone IM's. I... I couldn't explain myself. I got heated and defensive. Years of getting frustrated at how church was going for me spilled out. I wanted to justify that looking at furry porn was fine.
In the end, my life changed dramatically. I had to breakup with my girlfriend. My phone and laptop from college days were confiscated. They were pissed off that I didn't have an engineering job yet, or any job that mattered with my fresh degree from school. I was forced to see a "Christian Counselor" and then attend something called "Celebrate Recovery". I never cried and hated myself more than those months from August through January of 2015. I wanted to run away. I almost did once I found my first job in Engineering that was 50 minutes away from where my parents live.
I was terrible at keeping secrets, and they find out that the therapy did not work. How COULD IT!? Do you know how TERRIBLE it was to be compared to rapists, wife beaters, and drug addicts every single fucking week? Furry porn and sexual interests outside of marriage were just so demonized. I felt like this couldn't be true no longer. God couldn't be the loving father to me that I always thought he was. I BEGGED him to remove my "addiction" and make me holy again. To be ready to have a wife. But alas, even when I found a real life girlfriend for the first time, my parents butted in to tell me I was too immature to accept her in my life. I regret that day so much. I know we would have been an amazing couple already. Sadly, she got a kid with another person (who she married and then divorced. She's now into poly relationships, which I support). It felt wrong to be a stepfather to someone I had no investment in when I tried to get back with her.
So yeah, I got extremely mad at God. I blamed the church and this God for failing to take care of me in my time of need. I saw how things truly were. But, I also so how my angry outbursts was hurting my mother. She got extremely depressed to not functioning normally. I had to lie... lie to them both that when I moved out, I'd still go to church and work on removing my terrible and sinful addictions. I... I couldn't bear to be the agent of someone's depression. I had to live a double life now.
As for how that turned out, I'll write some more in Part 2. I've spilled enough tonight. But, I will answer any questions you may have about my story so far.
Growing Up in the Church
I remember the day vividly. On New Years Eve at the age of 6 in 1996, I accepted Jesus Christ as my Lord and Savior. It was a church that celebrated the Southern Baptist way and full of Hispanic people like my family. We have plenty of those down in Florida.
Side Note/Rant: I don't fucking care if you think that is too young for a child to make a decision like that, and then attempt to invalidate my "conversion" experience. So if you're a theist trying to shit on my validity as a former Christian, then you can fuck right off and pretend to know you how I feel. That is a dishonest way to engage in any further discussion about my deconversion, and I'm tired of it.
Anyway, I remember how everyone around me reacted, along with my own parents. They were truly convinced I had made the best decision in my life that day. I also remember how much simpler and fun things were in that environment growing up. It was where one of my earliest circles of friends formed after all. And the Bible was where I really reinforced my understanding of the Spanish language too, since my grandmother was alive. Spanish at home was practically required to keep the family circle intact, and going to church every Sunday helped me develop. It brought me genuine joy as a kid for sure, even though the sermons were less interesting than seeing how the faith has developed my friends. We did so much together out of church too, including hit up some local beaches and theme parks. I remember even doing a Boy Scouts equivalent of Christians, even though MOST of the activities were spent memorizing Bible verses. That always bothered me, but like a video game, I tried my best to earn some badges there.
But as I grew up, I noticed that some people have left my circle for no explained reason. My parents never told me why they didn't show up anymore, and it made me really sad. Then of course, I had to start sitting in for adult/main sermons, starting to get me quite bored of church when I became a teen. That was when the concept of a "Youth Group" came into my life. That was headed by someone that really put their all into planning sermons and activities for us. And then my interest was renewed. I never realized I saw church as a social club more than now. I felt really cool, knowing a lot of my school mates probably didn't have organized trips and fundraisers like I did. I remember all the times I went to Disney World too, and sharing some of my best memories there. I felt... like I was normal. That I wasn't some soul waiting to be judged in the afterlife, or worrying how "Christian" I looked to the world.
And then there was all the beautiful Easter/Christmas concerts I was a part of. It took little convincing to have me join the choir and sing my heart out. Although none of my friends too choir as seriously as I did, mainly stemming from my musical involvement in school Band classes. I got baptized at the age of 16 in a pool of all places. But then I took a Baptism course and got baptized at the tank in the temple to make sure I did it "right". My good life continued well through my High School years, all until something dire happened to my circle of friends.
A First Dose of a Cruel Reality
I admit, I lived quite a privileged childhood. I never dealt with shit parents, or lack of money, or drugs/alcohol. The state of my life was my biggest motivator to keep going to church despite how boring and derivative it got sometimes. My friends and learning about how Biblical stories applied to my life was my most important things ever. And yet, the first rock in this "ideal" state of life came in the sudden dismissal of the Youth Group leader. It turns out he was caught cheating on another woman, and then they had a divorce. The church took appropriate action to ensure such a "terrible" individual wouldn't poison the minds of the Youth Group any longer. That sweet wife of his then went on a tirade of being more of a zealot than kind believer. Her attire changed and she became a "Karen" for anything God related. I really came to dislike her demeanor and distanced myself from here.
The group that I was with continued to shrink, with only about 4 friends now from my early childhood days still part of the church. It was really depressing, and I was getting older too. The newer faces were a bit too young for my liking, and I found it odd for a nearly 20 year old me hanging with 13/14 year olds all over again. I also learned that one of my friends died in a drive by shooting as well. I was shocked to find out this friend of mine was involved in seedy places and likely the gang life. He died way too young for sure, and that struck a chord with me. I didn't know why God would allow these things to happen to people that seemed to have everything in order. It was then where my faith started to shatter a bit, but I had my closest friends and my own, loving parents to think of.
Discovering my Fetishes and the Furry Fandom
Of course, with things going slowly south at my church, I got a little too curious about pursuing some art of furry characters I enjoyed growing up. I always had a strange, warm and electric feeling watching certain scenes in cartoons growing up, and now I realized way. That being Krystal from Star Fox, of course. I explored and stopped at many points, shocked to find porn so easily. I felt awful about it, but then I realized. "These aren't humans I'm lusting over. I'm a growing man after all, I should indulge a bit. These women don't exist and won't get in my way to find my God given wife!" Things escalated as I discovered the wonders of Macrophile.com. I found my first furry artists to follow and facepalmed that I loved their work. Of course, I knew my parents would freak out if they found out I was growing fond of furry erotica, especially that of giantesses and hypers. So I started to build a stash on the computer my dad gave me for a birthday, figuring out on how to pleasure myself at the age of 18. I was a little late to the party, but that rush of libido was more amazing than anything a boring church would give me thus far, even the highs of Christmas concerts. Everything felt so formulaic and redundant at this point.
The discovery of the furry fandom was something I treasured because I discovered it on my own. I wasn't raised into it and been sent to camps, retreats, and groups to bolster my faith. It was rather freeing to have me not be disgusted with the idea of sex anymore. I wanted to naturally do more to be a part of it.
Cue the Brony fandom at this time, and that got my fandom life roaring in my 20's. Conventions, artwork, working on fangames, and eventually making my sona for the long term was mostly of what I cared about. A lot of my high school friends and church friends were gone at this point, so I had to reestablish myself socially. In 2014, I got onto F-List with my character, ready to meet some furs that caught my interest. In fact, I dated one of them! Such was a blissful couple of months, until one fateful August.
The Darkest Days
I was careless. I never bothered to put a lock on my phone. But as I was getting on the computer to address some stuff with my friends and girlfriend, my dad came into my room with a somber look on his face. A text came in from one of my furry friends. We were erotically roleplaying at the time. This was at a time before Discord took off, so I communicated through Skype and phone IM's. I... I couldn't explain myself. I got heated and defensive. Years of getting frustrated at how church was going for me spilled out. I wanted to justify that looking at furry porn was fine.
In the end, my life changed dramatically. I had to breakup with my girlfriend. My phone and laptop from college days were confiscated. They were pissed off that I didn't have an engineering job yet, or any job that mattered with my fresh degree from school. I was forced to see a "Christian Counselor" and then attend something called "Celebrate Recovery". I never cried and hated myself more than those months from August through January of 2015. I wanted to run away. I almost did once I found my first job in Engineering that was 50 minutes away from where my parents live.
I was terrible at keeping secrets, and they find out that the therapy did not work. How COULD IT!? Do you know how TERRIBLE it was to be compared to rapists, wife beaters, and drug addicts every single fucking week? Furry porn and sexual interests outside of marriage were just so demonized. I felt like this couldn't be true no longer. God couldn't be the loving father to me that I always thought he was. I BEGGED him to remove my "addiction" and make me holy again. To be ready to have a wife. But alas, even when I found a real life girlfriend for the first time, my parents butted in to tell me I was too immature to accept her in my life. I regret that day so much. I know we would have been an amazing couple already. Sadly, she got a kid with another person (who she married and then divorced. She's now into poly relationships, which I support). It felt wrong to be a stepfather to someone I had no investment in when I tried to get back with her.
So yeah, I got extremely mad at God. I blamed the church and this God for failing to take care of me in my time of need. I saw how things truly were. But, I also so how my angry outbursts was hurting my mother. She got extremely depressed to not functioning normally. I had to lie... lie to them both that when I moved out, I'd still go to church and work on removing my terrible and sinful addictions. I... I couldn't bear to be the agent of someone's depression. I had to live a double life now.
As for how that turned out, I'll write some more in Part 2. I've spilled enough tonight. But, I will answer any questions you may have about my story so far.
