The way out: A light at the end of my journals
The Creation/Evolution journal in the library at UCONN that I wrote about in my last post is like a sacred symbol to me now, because it represents my first glimpse of freedom from the oppressive religion I was captive to for so many years. But there is another "journal" that is the opposite kind of symbol. My personal journals--about ten volumes, are still sitting in a drawer in our bedroom. I haven't gotten rid of them, even though they have become almost repulsive to me. They are a record and reminder of the 20 or so years of my life when I was caught in the net of Conservative Christianity. They don't record my escape, though they record some failed attempts, but they do hint at one of the keys to my final breakthrough. I started journaling shortly after I started college. I had met a girl at a Christian club on campus. I was really attracted to her, but I knew that my religion wouldn't allow me to have sex with her. So I started to question my religion. That