In My Defense

I wish someone would listen to me.  Not only do I accept my Christian friends, but I have to.  Who would I have without them?  But you don't have to accept me.  You know you're right, and you'll put me on the defensive every time.  I don't want to argue because it's such a personal decision.  And yet you tell me I'm wrong, after all the years I've put into my beliefs.

There is no happy little island I can go to to be with my peers.  There is only the pain of having one person after another tell me I'm misguided.  You are so oppressive.

I hate you for doing this to me.  You make me feel like shit for one of the best decisions of my life.  What right do you have to tell me I'm wrong?  Do you think you're the first one to fill me in on my "mistake"?  I sometimes wonder how many people look at me in the halls and classify me "Atheist".  I wonder how many good relationships have been shot down because I'm so "unwilling" to see the light.

I feel as firmly about my beliefs as you do about yours.  But would I ever even begin to tell you you're wrong?  Of course not.  Take a chance to step inside a foreign country with foreign beliefs sometime, and feel how much of a stranger you are.  Then, try to tell them they're wrong.  The whole world is not Christian yet.

You all walk around, saying, "I love God more than the next guy."  Well, I've seen the next guy.  And the guy after that.  And when faced with someone like me, you all seem to reaffirm your beliefs strongly.

You have implied again and again that I am religiously intolerant.  You tell me I shouldn't complain if they push me to my knees to pray.  You hate me if I try to even pretend I'm right.  Or you pray for me because you think I've got it bad.  Well, I haven't got it bad - in fact, I'm stronger than I've ever been - and it isn't thanks to you.

You're more blind than I am, because you'll never see my point of view.  You'll always have a community to live in where you can be respected and included.  Me?  I'll have the same community - yours.  I'll get whatever you let me have.  Do you think I like that?  Do you think I want to live a life of this oppression?

(Nov. '84)