The motivation for me to come out as an unbeliever to my family was the stifling prison living a lie created in me. It got too heavy, the lies were too hard to tell, and honesty begged me to dance with her.
So I did. And oh what a dance this has been.
The hardest battle you’re ever going to fight is the battle to be just you.
Resonating within my soul (or, whatever deep part of my identity exists in my mind, since I don’t really believe in souls) is my desire for freedom. But this doesn’t feel like freedom yet, for in setting myself free from lies I have now bound myself to the pain of my family.
I asked my husband through tears last night, “Isn’t there a case to be made to sacrifice my freedom for the happiness of my family? Is it not selflessness to try my very hardest to believe in God again, and if I still can’t, to fake it, so that my family can go on living their life in peace?”
He was appalled, for it was this very same thinking that got me into an abusive relationship years ago. “No no no Teal!!” He cried out and came over to embrace me. “There is nothing healthy about that, nothing. If you want to believe, for YOU, by all means, believe. But you absolutely cannot do it for someone else. That wouldn’t be the best thing for your family either, for what is truly good and healthy for one person is good and healthy for everyone else. You would be doing your family a disservice if you did that.”
I heard his words and the logic in me agreed. But I still don’t think my heart aligns with that completely — maybe I’m just too terribly broken at the moment to feel clearly.