Part Three
After the baptism, I was helped out of the tank. I was then wrapped in a clean, dry towel and led back to the bathroom. I changed back into my Sunday best dress clothes. Now that I was baptized, did that mean I couldn’t wear these sinful clothes anymore? Would my mother have to throw them out? Would all my clothes have to be discarded because I wore them when I was a sinner?
Once I was dry and spiritually “clean,” I put my dirty, sin-soaked Sunday best dress clothes back on and went out to watch the other kids get baptized. I was offered endless congratulations on becoming a born-again Christian, as if I had truly been changed.
Deep within me, I knew something had changed, but for the better? No. I was still me on the outside, but the “me” on the inside had been hijacked by fear and survival. Even though the sun was shining on that beautiful, hot, and humid summer Sunday, it felt more like the hell described by the electric blue suit preacher.
Looking back on that day, so many years ago, I feel sadness , yet a gentle pride for the child I was. The scared 11-year-old little girl who had no idea of the consequences of making a choice out of fear that would change her life. For many years that choice would unconsciously become her default mode of living.
All the frozen smiles in school photos, the candid pictures of me smiling at birthday parties and family gatherings. All of those smiles hid a terrified child, a frightened teenager. What a way to live.
To that little girl I was, I’m so sorry you had to go through that most terrifying day. You didn’t understand the choice you made. There was nothing sinful about you. You were perfect just the way you were.
Going to church every Sunday with your aunt and then with your mom, singing in the children’s choir, trying to be good, trying to do what you were told.
You did what the church asked, all the while operating in fear and survival mode. You did your best, and I’m so proud of you.
So, to my younger self, know that I love you deeply, cherish you immensely, and will protect you fiercely. You are one of the reasons I am where I am today. You walked with me through the fire of deconstructing Christianity, rebuilding ourselves, discovering so much about who we are, and coming to terms with all of it.
The journey isn’t over because every finish line, every fear conquered is a starting line for even greater and deeper self discovery.