“I Saw That You Are A Christian…”

When I got to the States after Peru, I was looking for my fifth therapist in less than a year. At the time, I was starting to believe there was something super wrong with me even though all logical evidence pointed to different situational factors (ex: the contract with IJM ending meaning the therapy with IJM’s partner ending). For other readers out there who have gone through the ~oh so fun~ therapist matching and then intake process, you can understand that by round five, I was emotionally shot, drained, and just ready to call it quits.

A friend did the hard work for me. He heard where I was getting caught and offered that his therapist had an opening. After doing a bit of my own research on her, I called and introduced myself (read: I sent an email, watched the phone ring while she called me, waited until she left a voicemail, and then panicked for ten minutes before finally calling back). It started out pretty standard, she asked why I was reaching out, what was going on in my life, and then she asked why I thought she, specifically, would be a good fit.

If oversharing is possible with a therapist, I overshared. I launched through all the stuff I had half dug into with other counselors, listed off all of the different diagnoses and practices each had attempted, and why I thought she would be different. Finally, I launched into the most important part, talking even faster than incoherent:

“My friend also mentioned that you’re Christian, which is really important to me, because I’m Christian. Well, not really, I kind of hate Christians, but not all Christians. I mean, God and Jesus are dope, my spirituality is really important to me, but I’ve been really burned by the Church. I’ve also tried working with non-religious therapists, and they were great, but they weren’t able to help me reconcile my experiences with my faith. They got uncomfortable when I deconstructed everything, and didn’t understand the framework to begin with, so they couldn’t tell if my rants were good or bad, and – ” I was stopped by my panting after not pausing to breathe. To my relief, she started laughing.

“Ali, I think you’re going to be really fun to work with.”

Without being the zillenial who makes space for emotions, goes off about self care, and talks about (read: brags about) how great her therapist is, I wanted to check in and share how I’m doing. It’s obviously a one-sided medium, unless you comment or reach out after reading this post there’s not much conversation, but we all need to admit that it’s been rough.

I haven’t been able to post the drafts I have about the insurrection yet because it really messed with me and my writing showed it (in unproductive ways). My mind hasn’t stopped spinning with memories from Bolivia and this past summer. It fills any gaps with moments from professors I worked with for my research (my thesis was based on white fragility and its political implications), and community leaders I’ve been working alongside. Both have been warning me for years that something like this was coming. It finally did.

So I’m taking more time than I’ve needed to recently to leave room for self care. For me, that does include space for my faith. I criticize Christianity because it has caused a lot of harm, and if any of you reading this have been hurt by the Church, or somebody poorly representing it, I am so sorry. I also hope this hasn’t turned you away from exploring faith as a whole and what it means to you.

Now, I love my family, and I’m thankful for the opportunities they’ve been able to provide for me and many of the lessons they’ve been able to instil in me. That being said, I hadn’t brought a lot of my pain, or shared the damage the Church had caused me personally until recently. It was in one of these conversations that my dad shared about a project he was working on.

I know that I am fortunate to have a dad I love, and I’m also fortunate that he puts up with my stubbornness and combativeness with grace. That means I ignored all of the tools he was sharing for months until I finally decided I’d give it a go.

I hate people trying to sell God, profit off of Him, or act as if they can offer all of the answers – and at first, that is what my Dad’s content reminded me of. It hurt because it felt like he was talking over, or at, me rather than listening to what I needed.

My frustration got the best of me one day and I finally lashed out,

“Don’t you think you’re being a know-it-all or showing a savior complex?”

And he, calm as he nearly always is, responded “I can see why you’d say that, but I don’t see this as being about me, it’s about creating space. Because, if you come before God, for even just a few minutes, He can do his thing.”

My dad is not wrong, and engaging in the work that he, and other incredibly talented artists, came together to create has been powerful.

I’m excited to keep exploring the art they’ve compiled. If you’re interested in checking it out yourself, click this link and read more.

I hope that regardless of what it looks like for you, you also find time each day to take care of yourself. We need it (now, arguably, more than ever).

<3