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Raised in a repressed Catholic home, all I knew is those who had sex before marriage needed my prayers.
I was raised in a strict, Catholic home. Throughout my childhood, if there was a way to be involved in the church, my family was there. My sister and I were part of the church choir, altar servers, and teacher aides for the catechism classes my parents taught.
Every Halloween, if we wanted to trick-or-treat, they only allowed us to dress up as a nun or an angel as a protest for this “satanic holiday”. (The pictures are priceless, I must admit). Our family attended every weekend church retreat available, and we never missed a Sunday mass, even on vacation.
To say our family life revolved around religion is putting it lightly. The church was our one and only form of bonding as a family.
I still wonder, if they allowed other ways of bonding, would any of their four children still believe in God?
Because after all of this, not one of their kids attends mass, takes part in any religion, or plans to teach their future children about the church.
After all their effort, shaming, and guilt, not one of their children follows the religion they forced onto us. It’s quite sad; they could have put forth effort into creating fruitful relationships with their children instead of instilling shame for their salvation.