Letting Go of My Religion: My Journey from Catholicism to Truth

Why I Stopped Following God.

I was born into a Catholic family, where faith was not just a belief system but a way of life. From an early age, I was taught to pray, to attend church, to believe in God without question. It was all I knew. Sunday mornings were reserved for mass, religious holidays were celebrated with devotion, and any doubts about faith were quickly dismissed with the reminder that God had a plan. For years, I followed along, never thinking to challenge what I was told. But deep down, something always felt off. I couldn’t put it into words as a child, but there was a lingering feeling that something wasn’t quite right, something that didn’t make sense to me, even when I tried my best to believe.

As I grew older, I started asking questions. Why did this religion exist in the first place? Why was I supposed to follow it just because my family did? What made Christianity the "one true faith" when there were so many other religions in the world? I wanted answers, real answers not just “have faith” or “because the Bible says so.” At first, I thought that learning more about Christianity would deepen my faith, that if I studied it, I would find the truth that would strengthen my belief. But instead, the more I learned, the more uneasy I became.

I started researching the origins of Christianity, the history of the Bible, and the impact of the church throughout history. What I found was deeply disappointing. The religion that was supposed to represent love, peace, and justice had also been responsible for some of the most horrific acts in history. The Crusades, the Inquisition, colonialism, the forced conversions, and the genocide of indigenous peoples—all carried out in the name of spreading God's word. The more I read, the harder it became to ignore the contradictions. How could a religion that preaches love and forgiveness also be used to justify violence and oppression? And more importantly, why would an all-powerful, all-loving God allow such things to happen in His name?

But it wasn’t just history that made me question Christianity, it was the Bible itself. As I read it more critically, I found contradictions, outdated moral codes, and stories that didn’t align with the idea of a loving and just God. The Bible was full of rules that seemed arbitrary, messages that were used to control people, and depictions of a God who often acted cruelly. I couldn’t understand why an omnipotent being would demand worship, punish those who questioned Him, or create a world filled with suffering only to test people’s faith. The more I studied, the clearer it became to me that this wasn’t divine truth—it was human-made.

Despite everything I discovered, walking away from religion wasn’t the hard part. Letting go of belief in God didn’t feel like a loss; it felt like freedom. The real challenge was how my family would react. I knew that questioning religion let alone rejecting it would not be taken well. Faith was deeply ingrained in my family’s identity, and to them, turning away from it would mean turning away from everything they had raised me to believe. I wasn’t afraid of my own doubts, but I was afraid of disappointing them. I knew they would see my decision as a rejection of everything they held dear, even though that wasn’t my intention. 

But despite my fears, I couldn’t pretend to believe something I no longer saw as true. I had to be honest with myself. My journey wasn’t about rebelling against my upbringing or rejecting my family’s values, it was about seeking truth. I wasn’t angry at Christianity, and I didn’t hate those who believed. I respected their faith, just as I hoped they would respect my decision to leave it behind. I understood why religion brought comfort to so many, why people found meaning in it. But for me, meaning came from something else...from questioning, from learning, from understanding the world without relying on faith in the unseen.

 

Walking away from God and the religion didn’t make me lost or hopeless; it made me more aware, more open to exploring life without the constraints of religious doctrine. I no longer needed to believe in a higher power to feel purpose, to be kind, or to seek wisdom. My morality wasn’t dictated by fear of divine punishment but by a genuine desire to do good. And that, to me, was far more meaningful than following a religion out of obligation or fear.

This journey has changed me in ways I never expected. It has made me more curious, more open-minded, and more willing to seek truth wherever it may lead me. I don’t claim to have all the answers, and I don’t know exactly where my path will take me. But what I do know is that I no longer have to force myself to believe in something that never truly felt right to me. I can live authentically, guided not by faith, but by reason, experience, and the continuous search for understanding.