Out of the Frying Pan...

So what happened to me? How did I end up so different?

I started asking myself these questions last night after I saw myself on the news, for participating at a "No on 8" Rally in my city.

So before you can understand my issue, let me tell you about my family. I come from a Mexican family that immigrated from Mexico before I was born. My grandparents wanted a better life for their future. My grandparents, from both sides of my family, were very Catholic. As most Mexicans are. So of course, that was how I was raised. I remember having to go to catacism every Wednesday and OMG, how I hated it. I hated how if I didnt live like Jesus, I was going to HELL. I use to go home and cry, I was so scared. What an ugly feeling is was to have, at such a young age. But did it make a difference....NOPE!!! I still was a pain in the ass.

After I had my first kid, I was a little older and a lot more mature. I took my faith alittle more seriously. So I started attending Mass on my own. OMG....it was so boring, but I kept going anyways. I did always feel better afterwards. Until one day after my son was born, I attended Ash Wedensday and during Mass, my son starts crying for my daughter who had gone to the restroom. I will admit he was loud, but not so loud that the little old lady that I was sitting next to me was bothered. But for some reason, the Priest didn't like it. So he stops his sermon and asks me to please leave. I was so shocked, that I just sat there not knowing what to do. I start to grab all my stuff and as I'm getting up, the little old lady grabs my hand and says to me "its ok sweetie, he wasn't bothering me" I pick up my son and I walk to the back of the church. I thought to myself, maybe I can just stand in the back, but no, the Priest wouldn't continue until I was out of the building. I was so embarrassed. How could this man of the cloth, kick out God's children? That right there is a big reason why people leave the church. Well needless to say, I still haven't been back to that church. Its been 8 years.

After my divorce to my first husband, I was going through some bad times. So my Aunt tells me that she wants me to attend church with her. It was the First Assembly of God. I really liked it. Good music, no boring repetitive mass's, and a Pastor that was hella funny. It really helped me get through some tough times. Once things got better for me, I really started paying attention to the sermons. As the Pastor talked about the stories of the Bible, I used to sit there and think "who made this shit up?" and then I would say to myself, "I'm sorry I'm sorry for doubting you God" its called Christian guilt. But I couldn't help it, I had been that way my whole life. When I first found out that my uncle was gay, I was shocked. But I never believe for one second that he was going to hell, like my family would say. I use to think of how awful it was for his own family to claim that they loved him, and say behind his back that he's a sinner. How could he be? Why would God allow him to be born gay and then tell him that he is sinning and if he doesn't stop, he will burn in hell? It never made sense to me, it still doesn't.

Then I meet my husband Joe. He would come to church with me. Then we would go to Three Rivers and throw Tobacco in the wind, or water; it was great. I loved what he was doing. It felt like it was what I had been missing in my life. I didn't want to be normal I want to be natural. So I started asking questions. Listening to Joe's point of view of religion, and I LIKED IT!!! Then one day I asked, "Do you believe in the Devil?" Joe says "No, he doesn't exist." "SIGH!!!" I never felt so relieved in my life. I started to study Wicca and I really loved it. But that damn Christian guilt. Then one day, my brother and I had this very interesting conversation about the movie "The Golden Compass" "Don't see that movie," he says, "it was written by an Atheist" Well it didn't bother me that it was, but he couldn't stand the fact that I wasn't agreeing with him. When I got home, he left a message for me on myspace. "Since when did you become a hippie?" LMAO.....I always have been.

When it became legal for Same-sex couples to marry, I was happy. My mom was surprised. "Your a Christian, and you know what the bible says." "yes mom I do, but I also know what it is like to be an American and have civil rights. I also know that the Government is not supposed to instill their beliefs on me." She then says, "I'm not trying to judge them." "but mom, if you vote Yes on 8, that is exactly what you are doing." First time ever that I made my mom speechless.

So last night after seeing myself on the news. I mistakenly asked my brother what he thought of gay marriage. Of course, he says that he is against it. I knew that answer before hand, but I still chose to ask anyways. But it didn't stop my heart from breaking. How did we end up so different? Why do I have family talking shit behind my back about my practicing "witchcraft"? (Well they think I do, but don't know for sure)So much shit that they weren't even going to attend my daughter's Quiencenera, because it was to be in the Masonic Temple here in town. I just don't get it. My own grandmother believed in herbal magic. Whether she believed that that is what she was doing, she still did anyway.

I havent yet come out of the "broom closet" with my family, but I am getting pretty close to it. If my mom and brother feel this strongly about gay people, what are they going to say when the find out that my daughter is bi-sexual? And then find out that she is a Pagan too? It is going to be very interesting.