Are you there God? It's me, Jess...

I was raised Catholic. As such, I became accustomed early on to feeling guilty on a daily basis, for doing pretty much anything. Those of you who were raised within the boundaries of Catholicism can relate. I remember when I was around 13, my girlfriends and I decided to experiment with a Ouija board during a slumber party at my house. We also thought it would be fun to watch The Exorcist afterwards. Traumatized does not begin to describe what we were after this ill-conceived night. I, being a terrified adolescent who was certain I had summoned a demon into my suburban bedroom, ran directly to confession the following day and proceeded to sob uncontrollably to my priest and swear on bibles, rosaries and whatever else was available, that I would never do anything so stupid or sinful ever again if he could just please promise me I wasn't going to hell.

Fast forward to my rebellious teen years, when waking me up for mass on Sunday mornings became such an epic struggle, my mom eventually gave up. I had already begun questioning religion in all its forms and was far more intrigued by Wiccan spells and Voodoo rituals than by Hail Marys and First Holy Communion. Around this time I was dating "T", someone who to this day I refer to as my "first love". He was raised Mennonite, which was not uncommon where I grew up, and although I was vaguely aware that he attended church and was active in youth group, he rarely discussed it. Plus, he had a mohawk and a leather jacket; he listened to punk rock and wrote amazing poetry and was just all around dreamy. He and I were friends, as well as off and on boyfriend/girlfriend for years. He was the 'Ross' to my 'Rachel' and I always assumed we would graduate high school and get married.

Graduation came and went and we embarked on separate cross-country road trips. His lasted significantly longer than mine, but when he finally returned home 6 months later, we found our way back to each other and it was as though no time had passed. We spent many a late winter evening making out on my couch and talking about everything we'd seen on our respective trips. "This is it." I thought. So imagine my surprise when he arrived on my doorstep one night looking anxious and acting strangely. He came inside and proceeded to tell me that he was a sinner and had been for quite sometime and he could no longer live his life as such. He had asked God for forgiveness and was ready to walk the righteous path toward his savior Jesus Christ. At first, I thought he was joking. This was a man who:

A.) Didn't drink or do drugs.

B.) Was a virgin.

C.) Had never said a mean word about anyone the entire time I'd known him.

If he was a sinner, then I was one of Satan's minions. I was speechless, so he continued. "As for our relationship...", he began. He didn't need to finish-I wasn't dense- but I had never felt so completely blind-sided.

I haven't voluntarily attended church since I was 16 years old, yet I feel like I am finally okay with God again. I'm sure there are times when he/she is less than thrilled with my decision making, but for the most part, I'm a good person who leads an honest life. To say that particular experience wasn't pivotal and traumatic, however, would be a lie. Years later, I found myself with a massive crush on a cute boy who worked at the convenience store near my house. Every night after work, I would stop there for cigarettes so I could gaze at his beautiful face. As is my way, I had concocted quite an elaborate fantasy world involving him, even though the only words I'd ever spoken to him were "pack of Marlboro lights please". One evening, I had just finished pumping gas, when I looked up to see him leaving the store and getting in his car. I could see from where I stood, he had a bumper sticker on his back window. "We are totally soulmates" I thought, since I was quite a fan of bumper art myself. He drove past me at the pump and smiled--his brilliant, white-toothed, supple-lipped smile. I turned to read his bumper sticker as he passed:

"No Jesus, No Peace."

"Know Jesus, Know Peace."

Son of a bitch.