how I became an atheist

After spending some time perusing atheist blogs, I have noticed quite a few posts explaining how the blogger became an atheist. I thought I'd jump on the bandwagon.

I grew up in a bi-religious household, and the matter of religion was quite contentious in my family--to the point of hostility and division. At the age of twelve, I decided that I was Jewish, and subsequently prepared for my bat mitzvah. Prayer was very important to me. At first I prayed out of guilt, but then as a form of self-reflection and expression.

I never felt the need to attend temple--I was of the "the kingdom of god is within you" camp. My religiosity was internal, and channeled a few times a year through the big Jewish holidays. At the same time, being "good" was always at the forefront of my mind--to the point of anxiety.

As I grew older, I began to contemplate the subjective nature of religion: how I am of one because I was born in a particular place under particular circumstances, and had I been born elsewhere, I would have turned out completely differently. I humored myself with the fact that, in warfare, both sides proclaim the backing of God. And both sides will die believing such. How could a preaching Christian expect one to convert, if that same Christian would never consider conversion? And this is how institutionalized religion fell out of favor with me. And this is how self-righteousness became silly to me.

Somewhere in the year 2005, perhaps as my world view made a 180 in discovering that I need not conform to social constructions and arbitrary delineations of femininity, I suddenly came to a new conclusion:

The only reason I ever had for believing in god was the fact that I had been constantly told that I must. That was it. What a feeble, irrational reason. So I just stopped. And as of that moment, the incessant weight of behaving properly in the eye's of god, the constant worry and self-scrutiny (which was, by the way, heavily co-mingled in feminine constructions of purity), the internal debates of how I ought to behave--suddenly stopped as well.

What was funny to me was how my prayer continued despite my unflinching atheist sentiments. I knew that I was not attempting to communicate with god, but that the coerced and guilt-ridden obligation of prayer had become an avenue of self-introspection and reflection. I decided that, although this was occurring in the form of prayer, this was actually my round-about way of communicating with myself. As time progressed, this faded.

Now I can honestly and directly engage my own critical thinking and rational expression, and do not need to mediate this through a fallacious third party. But I feel terribly sorry for those who do. Being intellectually and ethically self-reliant is both empowering and rewarding.

Realizing my own atheism has been as liberating as understanding that my genitals do not obligate me to a specific lifestyle, bundle of goals, or set of behaviors. Suddenly, anything and everything is available for my exploration and mental digestion. And that, my friends, is praiseworthy.