I’m Dishing Out The Juicy Details On What It’s Like To Grow Up In The Adventist Church

“Because heaven isn’t the irresistible selling point people make it out to be. I don’t want to live for eternity with any of these people.”

Being raised in a household where religion consumed your daily life is an unforgettable tortuous experience. I knew from since I was a little girl that something was off. Sitting in those church pews weekly shredded every last bit of patience I had for Christianity, and organized religion as a whole. As a child I wanted to spend my weekends playing in the backyard, reading, shopping, and riding my bike, not dedicating any free time I had outside of school to Jesus. But my parents were Adventist and they forced my brother and I to adapt their beliefs against our own will.

I was ten years old when I got baptized into the Adventist church on a whim. My father coerced my brother and I to step into the watery grave of our church’s baptismal pool to solidify our standing with Christ. And one random Sabbath I just gave in to my dad’s request to shut him up. To this day I regret getting baptized. Now that I think about it, having the pastor place a white cloth over my face to lean me backwards into a pool of water is the only regret I have in life, actually.