Growing up, I was always secular, but holding Christian beliefs in the back of my mind. I believed in Evolution, kept up with science, but also found ways to make what I learned back up Christianity, I was always very liberal when it came to Christianity.

  In 9th grade I converted to Christianity. I had been attending church since August, and in March, I felt a sort of confirmation. The feeling was amazing. I wanted to break down. I loved my small, intimate youth group, belonging, and learning. I'm the kind of person to jump both feet first when I dedicate myself to something and I dedicated my life right there and then to Christianity. I became less liberal in my theology, sometimes almost forcing myself to accept beliefs. This doing away with my liberality was especially prevalent when I came to know early on that the scriptures as they are now, are unreliable as to their original content. To make up for this fact, I decided to follow it as close as I can, because God would understand and at the least, reward me for my faith.

  Dedicated as I was, however, I was never ignorant. I was always, always, always, thinking about theology. What the Bible said about this or that, the context it was said in, how different people interpreted it, etc. I was extremely proud to hold the title in my youth group, as the most knowledgeable on the Bible of the entire youth congregation.

  As the facts became inevitable, I became more liberal in my studies. I had my apologetic theories as to how Evolution has a place in the Bible, and why Christians can accept it (as I did), and also how homosexuality is not a choice, not wrong, and why Paul condemned it. It was a weak argument, but not as weak as I present it in this not so short summary of my life.

  I was extremely, extremely dedicated. It was the longest two years of my life thus far.

  My deconversion story is longer, more dramatic, and ultimately more exciting than my conversion.

  It started, as with many, with questions. Questions that flew through my mind 24/7, some that I answered, some that I tucked away for another time, and some that I flat out rejected.

  I became exposed to the not-so-pretty side of Christianity (besides the obvious) when I read the Autobiography of Malcolm X. I began asking myself more critical questions about Christianity. It went from the place Paul held in Christianity (whom I distrusted from early on) to the historicity of Jesus of Nazareth.

  I also started having what I can only describe as little depression episodes, usually at night, always about death. I believe it was sparked by all of the deaths that were happening in my hometown that year. It was seriously, like 6-8 deaths of high school kids, not just from my high school, but people closely connected to people I knew, and chained like that. It went from drug-related killings, to car accidents, to wrong place wrong time. Still being a Christian, I couldn't believe that all these people were going to Hell.

  These episodes were always sparked by death. Sometimes just during a night of deep thought, and sometimes just watching something. I remember a bad one that came from watching The Time Traveler's Wife. I couldn't believe how one second, someone could be here, then the next, they're gone. They've left. To where I'll never know, but most likely to Hell.

  The way I explained the multitude of other religions, and the confirmation members of other religions have, was that they were all being led by Satan posing as God. That's why all other religions have miracles. I thought about how 99% of people are going to Hell and I'm likely to be one of the 1% going to Heaven. Of course then I thought that I'm most likely one of the 99%, and WHAT IF I AM one of the 99%? This thought always crept in during my episodes. It was utterly terrifying.

  All of these elements came together in the summer before 11th grade. They crashed on top of me during my episodes. Throw a breakup (unrelated) on top of it all and you have a summer with a lot of bad nights.

  I was even scared to think. But eventually, in the middle of the summer, I got to researching the historicity of Jesus. My religious bubble came crashing down on me. The evidence (at the time) seemed overwhelming. I think all it took was one night, albeit one extremely long night, to lose my faith in Jesus Christ.

  I desperately wanted to believe, as I still believed in God, but not in Jesus Christ. So I looked up the Noahide laws, then found that if you broke them there was no going back. Knowing this God to be much less forgiving than the Christian God, I felt hopeless. I couldn't just decide to be a Jew (or so I thought). I at least had that faith to my name. That was gone in a few days.

  The next few months were blurry, I tried to ignore labeling myself entirely, but still knew that no matter what, Christianity was held in extremely high regard. I wasn't bitter or antagonistic at all. I was very sad. It was like losing a best friend. Sometimes I forgot that it wasn't there. I'd be about to pray and then stop, and be sad again. It's like picking up the phone to dial (text) your best friend and then realizing you're not friends anymore. I had only good memories with religion. I didn't realize the bad until much later, but even now there was much more good than bad.

  I still go to the youth group once in a while, just to see my old pastor and see how the church is doing. I still find myself proud that it's grown so big. It's odd, but I don't mind it. Some of my best memories and friendships were forged in that church.

  Now I don't see religion in such a great light. While I recognize the benefits it has to some people, I still think very critically of it. However it will always have that special seat in my memory as my ex-best friend, with whom I've left on good terms, but looking back, I've learned a lot about, and don't miss all that much after all.