Words and art by: Hailey Jordan Liemena

Growing up, my life heavily revolved around religion— I was a devout Christian.

It was exactly how you’d picture it —attending church at least twice a week, especially during holidays like Easter and Christmas. I would attend important church seminars regarding the famed Doomsday, where believers will be taken up to heaven in an event called the Rapture, while a series of cataclysmic events unfold on Earth. During this time, I was also heavily involved in the ministry as a dancer and a singer. Looking back, I acknowledge it was a major part of my life growing up. But at the same time, a part of me wishes that I hadn’t dedicated so much time to church. I felt as though they viewed the world through a distorted lens. However, being regularly involved in the ministry meant I had to accept these beliefs as though they were the absolute truth. There was no room for doubt, as questioning the Church meant going against the Bible and therefore God Himself.

As time passed, I grew increasingly exhausted with all of the responsibilities that came with serving in the ministry. To put it simply, I was burnt out. It was only during the pandemic when time away from church allowed me to reflect more on my relationship with religion, that I was able to acknowledge this. By the time restrictions eased, I was a completely different person, and just a few months later, I was faced with yet another life-changing situation: the big move to Melbourne.

As an international student in an unfamiliar country, I was exposed to people of various cultures and beliefs. Being surrounded by such a sheer amount of diversity made me challenge the deeply rooted beliefs that were instilled into me by the Church. I felt as though I had spent my entire life in an extremely tight bubble, and that bubble burst within my first few months of living in Melbourne.

As time went on, my relationship with religion only became more complicated. When my friends asked me if I was religious I would reply with a simple “no”, as I was ashamed of how I would be perceived. How could I call myself religious when everything around me was telling me to run away from it? Amidst it all, I began to detest Christianity. At the core of all of these emotions was my fear of being perceived as anything other than perfect. Growing up, I’ve always felt a daunting amount of pressure from both the world and the Church to be flawless. Back in middle school, I was often mocked by my friends for not being ‘pure’ or ‘holy’ enough. I also felt that there was an unspoken rule in the Christian community to never reveal the ugly and only speak of the good, despite their persistent attempts to convince us otherwise. As a result, I’ve always felt the need to perform for my faith to be validated. I was scared of imperfection.

Which leads me to the befuddling question —is my relationship with religion still worth it?

After a lot of introspection, I’ve come to realise that my encounter with spirituality should never be based on the fear of being imperfect. In fact, I now think that it’s perfectly alright to be imperfect. I admit that I’m still
figuring out where I stand with religion; I’ve barely been to church this year and I don’t think I will anytime soon. But I’m slowly starting to be okay with that. Over time, I’ve learnt that being confused about my spirituality isn’t necessarily a bad thing. I’d rather focus on what Christianity means to me rather than have the Church dictate what makes or breaks a ‘good’ Christian. I’m tired of constantly trying to live up to unachievable standards of perfection and I’m also tired of the Church labelling it as ‘God’s Love’ when it really is just religious bias against anyone who doesn’t conform to their unrealistic expectations.

I remind myself that being confused doesn’t make me a bad person, and it certainly doesn’t mean that I have failed to be ‘good enough’. It just means that my journey is slightly different and I have to be okay with not having it all figured out. Sometimes, it’s alright to take things one day at a time and see how things unfold little by little. In the end, we’ll never know where our journey will take us but if your path eventually leads you to a place of self-assurance and peace, then it’ll all be worth it. I find peace in knowing that I’m not the only one who is struggling with where I stand with religion, so I hope you find peace knowing that you aren’t alone either.