In a world where everyone around you shares the same faith, it is easy to assume that your beliefs are universal—until you are faced with the uncomfortable reality that questioning them could challenge everything you have ever known. These worlds of similar belief are common in small, rural, and very religious towns like mine: Colorado City, Arizona.
Colorado City and the surrounding neighborhoods have a religiously saturated history beginning with the Fundamentalist Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, or FLDS for short. When dealings in the church began to go south with the introduction of new leadership, many people left during an event we call “The Split.” These people began their own church in Centennial Park, a neighborhood across the highway from Colorado City that they have nicknamed “The Work.” It is in this split group that the large majority of my friends, family, colleagues, and peers practice Mormonism.
I am not religious and never have been. My parents each grew up in one of the two churches, my mother in The Work and father from the FLDS, but both left when I was young after uncovering bundles of religious trauma. As they raised me, they shared why they had left religion behind, but always left the final decision of my own affiliation to me. Maybe I was biased to agree but agree I did, though that did not stop me from being exposed to religion through extended family and friends. Even as a child, I was enveloped in beliefs and views I did not agree with, while every single person I saw on a day-to-day basis–excluding my parents–did. While this was extremely challenging at times, I learned a lot and I would never change the experiences I have gone through. Growing up in a religiously dominant community influenced my perspective on reflection, prompting me to examine and question my own beliefs and led me to the path I find myself now.
There were many instances in my childhood where I felt forced to conform to the wishes of the religious people around me, and one place that this happened often was my grandmother’s house. Despite my grandma’s knowledge of my religious affiliation, there were many times I was asked to pray at the table and if I objected, I was pressured to continue regardless. At a young age, these actions did not move me towards a more religious perspective, but were instead very discomforting. In addition to this pressure from family, I often saw social judgment from my classmates for not attending church. For instance, I was in second grade when I told one of my friends I did not frequently go to church, and she proceeded to run to my teacher exclaiming how insane it was that I did not go. This soon spread through the classroom and I was thought of as “weird” for my lack of belief.
While I realize my grandmother likely had good intentions and my classmates soon grew out of their distrust of the unknown, these experiences pushed me further to the conclusion that I am not religious. I had come to the realization far before I should have even been thinking about it–even when considering the influence of my parents–given how prevalent religious decisions are in the life of a nine year old, and was able to begin developing rational, critical thinking skills at a young age. As I got older, I frequently took opinionated perspectives with a grain of salt, knowing that there was likely someone out there offering the exact opposite viewpoint. I regularly found myself reflecting on my own personal views when conversing with others, and slowly solidified my beliefs after analysis.
I realize now that it is probably because of this frequent reflection, analysis, and re-testing in my mind that I find myself drawn to science and philosophy. With the introduction of the scientific method, I had a streamlined process to organize my thoughts and strengthen my opinions with reason. As I grow and move forward in life, I sometimes see how the perceived “defending” of my beliefs has made me argumentative–and easily pushed to debate for the sake of debate–at times, but with further exploration in my pursuit of Conservation and the Biological Sciences, I know I will continue to develop my own “opinion method” alongside the well-known scientific one.
I still love my town and the people in it. Over the course of my life, our community has grown and people are far more accepting than they once were. This does not, however, invalidate what I have gone through and the growth I have made. As one may hopefully glean from my experiences, living with the constant pressure of outside beliefs and perspectives can be difficult and uncomfortable at times. It takes a lot of self-reflection and analysis to sit comfortably in such a world, but with the questioning of your ideas, you find personal growth. This cycle of reflection and growth is an ongoing process of understanding that becomes the key to our personal, and even societal, development.