Dear religion - I think it's time for us to break up.
It's a decision not made from a place of brashness, but one that feels like a slow and steady split. Death by a thousand cuts if you will.
Growing up Christian in a certain denomination, I had always pictured myself as being religious for the rest of my life.
Watch: Nobody speaks to me like Mamamia. Post continues below.
For context, my mum is Christian and my dad is agnostic, so it was typically Mum and I who found comfort in that space and made ourselves a part of it regularly. Mum would regularly take me to Hillsong events as a baby too.
We weren't the 'perfect' Christians - we certainly didn't go to church every week. But the religion itself was a constant in our life. I would pray every night, I loved attending scripture at school, and I would regularly attend church youth groups.
Ironically, I was supposed to be christened at birth, but my godmother overslept and forgot to rock up to the church and so the christening didn't happen.
So aged nine, I decided on my own accord to get baptised.
There was study, long conversations with our local priest (who was lovely), and getting ready for the big day. I had planned out my outfit in detail - a white dress with little roses and ribbon sleeves. It was a bit child bride to be fair.