When I was a little boy, my family went to church every Sunday. As the days turned to months, and the months faded into years, we stopped going to the services. As I grew up and shattered to disillusion that all parents instil in their children, the church didn't make sense to me.
As a rational person, I tried to follow my parent's example, but I never could get over the logical anomaly that religion became to me. As I matured, I realized more and more parts of the final solution, that I didn't believe in a high being or deity. Now, I kept my beliefs, or lack thereof, to myself. When I finally met another person who shared the same outlook, I became more vocal of my conclusion.
My parents insisted that I was just unsure and needed to find "God" on my own. Years later, I met a man who was only a few years older than me. He was the son of a preacher, and had received is masters in philosophy. We would often debate about rhetoric on the days we worked together. One day, he inquired about my morels and found that most of ours resonated. He asked me why I didn't believe in God, and I stated that it just didn't make sense nor fit with my lifestyle.
So why is it that a person's religion defines that person? People would call me a heathen all because of one simple choice, but call me a good person if I have labeled myself something that I truly can't stand behind. As long as a person lives a good life, should it really matter what creed or ideology that they classify themselves as?
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