Posts by gentlefalcon

Frank Booth9 said:Give me a break... you're 23 years old acting like a toddler. Clearly, you didn't grow up with an older sibling to teach you some manners. 🙂
I live in a town where everyone is super religious. They basically worship this one priest. I guess I’m the only one who isn't obsessed or showing up for Mass. My parents aren't even fanatics; they only go to church now because of my brother's confirmation, so I just stay home and pray privately. My grandma, though? She's a total fanatic. Thank God I don't live with her. Looking at my cousins, they're such little angels—never say a swear word, just sweet little things. XD
For instance, my mom and grandma used to drag me to church when I was a little girl, and obviously, I wasn't having it. I was about three. The ladies were busy praying the Rosary before Mass even started, and I kept wandering out and dragging my mom around. Eventually, Mom got fed up and told me to sit still. Then, out of nowhere, I blurted it out loud enough for everyone to hear: "Mom, what's Dad cooking at home??" 🤣 Of course, all the ladies started laughing. Mom was mortified, along with Grandma, and she realized it wasn't going to work, so she just took me home. Problem solved. 😁

Some people show up to church every single day, but when I think about their pasts and how they actually act, it feels totally hollow.
Same here. I went on one pilgrimage once, on foot, and I did it for myself. Nobody forced me. As for Mass, I might go maybe five times a year. That's if it's Christmas, Easter, or if I'm a godmother for a confirmation or a wedding, or a funeral for my grandpa. It's not like you're going to die if you attend a funeral. You don't have to go for some distant relative's uncle; just go for your own parents or grandparents and call it a day. And don't start with the drama. Just tell your parents you suddenly believe in God, but you don't feel the need to hit Mass every Sunday, Wednesday, and Friday to be a "good" believer. Tell them you pray every day and leave it at that. If you're only doing it for the money, sitting through an hour of Mass won't kill you. You don't have to stay for the Rosary afterward; just let your parents see you there, get the cash, and everyone wins.

Why do you say: thank God I don't live with my grandma? 😁 I'd love to see you try living with a fanatic in your own family. You act exactly like I do; it's just that nobody calls you out on it. I'd happily spend my Sundays at home quietly praying and watching Formula 1. You have no idea what I'm talking about. I'm talking about a mother who is a fanatic believer and can't wrap her head around the fact that her son won't step foot in a church.
When I was a kid, I was constantly asking my mom, "Mom, how much longer do we have to be here?" and nothing worked. 😂 Do you really think I'm some pushover who just takes whatever my mother throws at me? I'm actually looking forward to this upcoming Easter and my latest attempts at redeeming my sinful soul. ☕

And after Easter, I'll probably be quiet again: "Nobody is forcing you." And then I'll be labeled a fanatic for my lack of faith. 👍

Take my refusal to be a godmother at a First Communion, for example. In our circles, godparents are almost always chosen from well-to-do families, so accepting would basically mean a lifetime of buying expensive gifts for some quasi-religious person.🤣

Honestly, the whole idea of marriage isn't even appealing to me anymore. My mom is basically waiting for me to settle down with some "practical" devout woman, but let's be real—those types are usually boring and, frankly, not much to look at. It’s like trying to find a decent meal in a desert 🙄
If I went that route, I'd just be circling back to the exact same headache. If I marry someone who isn't Catholic, my family loses it; but if I marry someone who shares my actual views, then I'm still facing an uphill battle.

Take my parents, for example. They see people showing up at church processions who haven't stepped foot in a sanctuary since the nineties, suddenly acting all pious. And then they turn that judgment on me: "You're going to follow suit; you'll be crawling through those church doors soon enough." 😁

So, I tell them straight: "Look, I've already been part of the Church, and quite frankly, I don't care for the crowd there. Most of them have questionable backgrounds—people living double lives, pretending to be one thing publicly while hiding their real lives under different addresses."

My mom, for instance, thinks self-flagellation is perfectly normal behavior. She actually believes scientists have uncovered actual nails from the cross of Jesus from two millennia ago.

gentlefalcon

Thomas Davis6 said:So, I guess this guy is supposed to just sell out and ditch his convictions for some material comfort? Just trample over everything he believes in because religious fanatics are breathing down his neck?🙏
Pretty sketchy advice, honestly..
Anyway, I mean, any kind of forced pressure usually leads to a rebellion sooner or later. The guy is at a crossroads: either sacrifice his principles for a smooth ride, or strike out on his own, skip the services, and earn his own way.
Either way, there’s a trade-off.
Only he can sit down and figure out what actually matters to him.
It's honestly sad what happens in some families because of this religious fanaticism—this warped mindset children are raised in and the toxic pressure fanatic parents put on a kid who doesn't want to follow in their footsteps. And then they use blackmail... like, "Go to Mass, even if you're the worst kid ever, and you'll have everything." But if you don't go like we do, you could be an absolute saint and still have nothing. You might as well pack a bag and leave. It's pathetic, gross, and totally hypocritical.😢
Religion can seriously turn people into monsters.

That’s exactly where the issue lies. Back when I was just a kid, forcing myself to sit through church services felt like a heavy weight on my soul—it honestly made me feel like a bad person just for being there. Ever since I stopped attending publicly, though, things have shifted. I feel significantly better mentally, even if my bank account isn't quite as full as it used to be. 😁
Back when I was a teenager, I went along with the whole routine because, let's face it, there's this unspoken social pressure to just let your parents call the shots and run your life. It’s almost like an unwritten rule you're expected to follow until you hit adulthood. But here's the thing: even now, five years after I officially came of age, they still refuse to respect my autonomy or acknowledge my own perspective. It's like they're stuck in this loop where they think my adulthood hasn't actually started yet.

My mother put it quite bluntly when she told me, "I am never going to reconcile with your stance, because there won't be any unbelievers under my roof. We don't have people like that in this family." 😁

I don't really have much of a relationship with my parents, mostly because of where we stand on religion. Every single conversation I try to have with my mom eventually circles back to faith. It’s like there’s no middle ground. If I pass an exam, according to her, it wasn't because of the late nights or the studying I actually put in—it was only because she prayed for me. But if I fail? Well, then it's suddenly my fault because I didn't pray enough, implying that my shortcomings somehow managed to outweigh her blessings. 🙂
Honestly, I feel like I’d finally be able to breathe if I could just live my life without having to deal with religious people for any extended period of time. It feels like there's always that constant, unavoidable contact, and I'd much prefer a life where that's simply not part of the equation.

It’s honestly embarrassing for them, having to deal with that whole mess involving their eccentric relatives and neighbors. You see it all the time—these elderly women in the neighborhood will corner them and ask, "Where's your son? We never see him around." It puts them in such an awkward spot, and it makes their mothers feel absolutely sick to their stomachs having to make up excuses just to get them off their backs. They end up spinning these little webs of lies, claiming he’s just attending service at a different parish across town just to avoid the whole uncomfortable conversation.

I tried to play it off with my parents, pretending I was actually heading to church, but they aren't nearly as easy to fool as I thought. They just start drilling me with questions, and honestly, it’s getting harder to maintain the act when you're staring down that much scrutiny.

So, why wouldn't I just hop in the car with them and drive to Mass? It’s a fair question, really, if you look at it from a purely logistical standpoint. But when you start peeling back the layers of how these things actually work, you realize there’s more to the decision than just filling up the gas tank and hitting the road. It isn't always about the convenience of the ride; sometimes, it’s about the principle of the thing or simply how the dynamics of the group play out. If you think about it like choosing between taking an Uber or driving your own sedan to a game at Madison Square Garden, the choice isn't just about the distance—it's about the autonomy and the specific way you want to experience the journey itself.
Why is it that I can never seem to spot anyone actually sitting in the pews before Mass is about to begin? It’s one of those little things that keeps bugging me, and honestly, I can't quite wrap my head around it. You walk into the sanctuary, maybe a few minutes early to just sit there, find some peace, and settle your mind, and what do you see? A whole lot of empty space. It feels like everyone waits until the very last possible second—right when the opening hymn starts or even when the procession is already moving down the aisle—to finally shuffle in through the doors. It’s almost like people view church more as a scheduled appointment than a place to actually gather and prepare. You know, instead of arriving early to reflect or offer up a quick prayer, there’s this collective rush to beat the clock. It reminds me of how people treat a big game at Madison Square Garden; nobody wants to be the first one in the seats, they'd much rather wait until the lights dim and the energy is peaking to make their entrance. There’s a certain stillness that exists in those moments before the service starts—a quiet dignity that gets completely lost when a crowd of people comes barreling in all at once, looking flustered and checking their watches. I don't mean to sound like a grump, but there's something to be said for showing up early, being present, and respecting that sacred window of time before everything kicks off. Is it just me, or does this lack of punctuality feel like we're losing a bit of the reverence that should come with it?
How exactly am I supposed to beat them home? It’s like I’m outrunning the very idea of them.
If I end up rolling in later than they do, it really brings up a bigger question: why wouldn't I just wait around for them in the first place? It’s like asking how I’m supposed to beat my own car home. You can't exactly outrun your own vehicle, can you?
Then you have to ask yourself: how is it possible that I can claim such deep knowledge of the Gospel, yet I struggle so much to actually describe the people who sat there reading them?
I guess I’ve drifted off into storytelling again. Honestly, I don't really pay attention to how people present themselves; I couldn't care less about what anyone was wearing. My focus was entirely on the Gospel. That whole "let both men and women be..." sentiment? It just wasn't hitting the mark back then.

I find myself in a bit of an uphill battle here, too, mostly because of the perception that the majority of Catholics actually bother to show up at church. It creates this unfair double standard where, if a kid raised in the faith pulls some massive, colossal stunt, everyone just shrugs their shoulders and calls it forgivable. It’s like the community gives them a free pass because they grew up in the pews, whereas anyone else would be judged much more harshly for the exact same mistake.
Take a look at how they tell it: they’ll spin some tale about how certain altar boys were supposedly cursing God through their stories, yet those same kids are still out there every single morning, braving the freezing cold to stand by the altar, while I’m just lying here at home, taking it easy on a Sunday. 🙂

I used to sit there and listen to the news on TV for a few minutes to get the rundown on what the Mass service was about and when they’d be arriving around noon; I actually knew the schedule down to the minute. Then they went and shifted everything around, moving the whole thing to the early morning hours.
Even if they had arrived on time, I would have still been sitting there waiting for another two or three hours until that 11:00 AM broadcast hit so I could finally catch all the details. ☕
But they never really understood my process—the fact that I was staying informed through the internet and television. Instead, people just sat there judging me, thinking I was some kind of dropout who wanted to leave the church early. Eventually, I started telling them that the constant updates from the parish office were just plain annoying; honestly, why should I care who is getting married?
The problem was, I couldn't find any way to make them believe I was actually staying home. I tried everything to create an illusion; I’d move my shoes around, pull clean clothes out of the closet and spread them in my room just so my mom would think I had actually headed out. That little ruse worked for maybe two years. Beyond that, how was I supposed to explain that I didn't want to pile into the car with them? I would much rather spend my time going to see local theater productions than ride along with the family. So, I tried reasoning with them, saying that leaving an hour early for the Rosary didn't work for my schedule, and that I’d just show up specifically for the Mass itself and stay for that one hour.

Joseph Wright4 said:What does that even mean? If I'm following you—you're annoyed because your parents nag you when you skip Mass. Well, there isn't some law passed yet that limits that kind of thing, especially with the whole parent-child dynamic...

Don't think I'm trying to coddle you, but people at 23 are out here having kids, dealing with mortgages, or struggling to pay for college, or a million other things that actually matter. From that angle, your "problems" seem a bit... I don't know, spoiled. Like "I have impossible problems and I don't know what to do" levels of trivial.

It's almost impossible to change your parents (not physically, obviously, but their character). Just be a little more diplomatic. Don't pick fights that don't matter. It'll make your life easier.

I was forced to attend church services all through my childhood and teens. I did my First Communion, my Confirmation, and even sat through religious education classes in school after being confirmed. Eventually, I checked out of the parish activities entirely. I used to lie to my parents, telling them I wasn't attending, only for them to find out during Mass that I actually had been elsewhere. 🙂
Once I started college, they tried to push campus ministry on me, but I shut that down immediately. That was when they finally realized they weren't going to win this one. ☕

Religious fervor can be a dangerous thing. I've heard psychologists actually warn parents to be careful with how intense they get about religion, because it can end up severing family ties completely. In my case, I ended up cutting off entire branches of my family because they were such fanatics. They just wouldn't stop interrogating me about it.
I don't even want to fight them anymore; I just try to stay oblivious. I don't want to know which holidays are coming up or when Sunday is. The second Mom realizes I'm not at service, she starts her whole "conversion" routine, acting like she's struck by a sudden wave of guilt because she didn't raise me "properly." ☕

The alternative would be for me to start arguing with them about holy days, or fighting against the priest coming to the house—even though I'm standing right there when he visits. If I did that, Mom might soften up and try to be closer to me. She'd start hoping that maybe, just maybe, I've found my way back to the Church. Then the next Sunday rolls around, she sees nothing has changed, and she feels that sting of shame in front of the priest because everyone knows her kid doesn't show up. There was even a time they whispered that I was sneaking off to a different parish with my friends.

Mom honestly thinks the devil has taken hold of me. 😁 When I was a kid, maybe around 11 or 12, she actually wanted to call a psychologist because she’d been listening to some religious radio program that gives advice on how to help "lost souls" find the right path again.

Those people are real. There are certain "Catholic psychologists" whom parents bring their children to, hoping for a spiritual intervention. Under the thin veil of science, they basically label you as unfit for society. It’s funny, though—I just looked up the name and the street of one of these psychologists who supposedly "treats" kids for not attending Mass, and they don't even exist as legitimate scientists online.
It seems we're dealing with certain individuals who present themselves as experts while hiding behind a fake scientific persona.

gentlefalcon

Charles Doyle6 said:Acts all holy while jerking off and blowing through his parents' inheritance.

☕

It’s a little too late for that now, honestly. They already know exactly where I stand—my position has been crystal clear and firmly declared from the very beginning.
There are far too many days ahead of me that I could easily step into and play a part.
If it were just once a week on Sundays, I could probably manage, but this whole setup is something else entirely. Going to church maybe 150 times a year isn't exactly a walk in the park, especially when you factor in my mom’s routine. She insists on showing up an hour before the service even starts just to join in on those Rosary prayers led by some of the older ladies in the parish. There was actually a time when I resorted to lying about being at Mass; I’d just scour the internet to find out which specific Gospel and Epistle were being read that day. Back then, we only had one priest, so memorizing his sermons was actually pretty easy.

It all started looking pretty suspicious, honestly. How am I supposed to claim I’ve already made it home before they even arrive? If I show up later, they’re going to catch me red-handed because they sit right in the front rows and hang around the exits. If I actually stayed to wait for them, there’s no way they wouldn't spot me. I’ve tried every workaround in the book. I even went to a local flower festival outside the church, grabbed a few olive branches, and headed straight home, thinking the greenery would be a good cover, but they saw the branches too. It just isn't working. Some of these holiday services are lightning-fast, lasting less than two hours, which completely kills my plan. If I want to go with my mom, I’d realistically need to be sitting in that church for at least three or four hours just to make the timing look legitimate.

frozenraven5 said:Is it just Mom who's a fanatic? 🙂

There is a massive difference between finding something interesting, agreeing with it, and just being smart enough to diplomatically figure out how to survive in a certain environment.

And that whole thing about crossing yourself outside every church? Come on, 🤣 are you gathering material for a stand-up comedy routine or what?

Man, it must be so nice to play the righteous victim of parental oppression while living in a nest lined with cash. 😍

It’s my mother and most of my extended family, and honestly, I don't even visit them at all.
I haven't seen them in over six or seven years. In this situation, I actually have options.
I just have no interest in them.

When it comes to religion, there is no such thing as a diplomatic approach. The mere fact that you don't step foot in a church brands you as an outsider, an infidel, a sinner, a pagan, or just plain unstable.
The only way to navigate that is through endless patience, hypocrisy, and living a double life, but then you end up loathing yourself. 😁 Aside from the fact that it’s just Sundays, I suppose I could force myself to go—doing it 48 times a year, roughly 12 times a month, I might be able to stomach that somehow.

But you can't drag me into Madison Square Garden and demand that I sit there for seven or eight hours watching people howl, weep, wail, and collapse at my feet.

And you certainly can't expect me to show up for services on a weekday, either.

No, I’m not "gathering material." If it's midday, I am expected to cross myself, which I simply don't do. Every time we walk past a church or a shrine, I'm apparently supposed to make the sign of the cross.

They go to mass at least 150 times a year. During Christmas and Easter, they spend the entire week there, especially since those are national holidays. Mom goes to the early morning services, but Dad doesn't. Why shouldn't he go? He should have the right to choose. ☕

Then there are the five or six pilgrimages throughout the year: places like Lourdes, Fatima, Rome, or Santiago de Compostela. It’s one thing to visit those places as a tourist, but it’s quite another to spend seven or eight days glued to priests and walking from church to church, only seeing your own bed when you sleep.

Joseph Wright4 said:🙄

🤦

Get real. You sound pathetic.

You aren't 17 anymore, so that's irrelevant. Decide for yourself whether financial security or independence matters more to you... for now, it seems obvious which one you're choosing.

(it's pretty obvious those old folks would help you out financially if you really needed it... whether you move out or not... or are you trying to tell us they'd cut you off? - I highly doubt that)

(not sure if you realize that even though you claim to be 23, you're using the same rhetoric as some high schooler complaining for no reason, or maybe for a good reason..)

I don't really stand to gain as much materially as I did four or five years ago. Back then, I used to receive things seemingly out of thin air around $333 or $167, but now $6.75 😍
If I were to suddenly walk into a church, everyone would see right through it; they'd know it wasn't a genuine spiritual awakening, but just a grab for material perks. We've been at odds for far too long for me to suddenly undergo a sincere conversion. 👍

Shouldn't everyone be allowed to hold their religious or non-religious views on equal footing?

silentcrane11 said:Good grief!!!
I guess you really do hate the Church if you're passing up such an easy, comfortable life—one that you could arguably secure just by showing up to Mass once in a while, at least while your parents are still around.🤣

Personally, I’d have to attend every single Sunday just to satisfy this requirement. Do they honestly think I haven't lost count of how many Sundays there are in a year? Even when I did go, I was constantly accused of not paying attention or actually listening, as if my only goal was to stare at the exit and wait for my turn to leave. It’s like whenever we drive through town, passing one of the dozens of churches scattered everywhere, the immediate expectation is that we all stop and make the sign of the cross.
I grew up immersed in all that religious ritual, and frankly, that supposed "pleasant existence" started to feel incredibly suffocating.
I would much rather be an independent person than live like some hypocritical parasite. 😁
I am perfectly willing to accept having zero financial support from them if it means I don't have to perform this religious charade. This whole struggle has been playing out in my head for about seventeen years now; during those first four or five, I didn't even truly grasp what religion meant. But once I started school, I was hit with the full force of religious education, priests, and all that institutional pressure, and it has always been exhausting.

In recent years, I haven't received any gifts for Christmas or Easter, and honestly, I couldn't care less. I used to get them, but then the guilt trips would start: "We bought this for you, we gave you that, so you should be going to church like all the other well-behaved kids."
Just try to imagine how draining it is to go to confession. You show up and find yourself standing in a line of maybe a hundred people, trying to squeeze in, only to have elderly ladies shouting at you for being impatient. Then, after enduring a grueling confession filled with nonsensical questions about whether I've looked at "improper magazines" or indulged in worldly pleasures, I still have to sit through the service and wait for communion. And then comes the lecture from my mother about how much better I should feel now that I've confessed, and how desperately I need "spiritual nourishment." 🙂

And yet, the refrain is always: "You're free to do whatever you want; nobody is forcing you to go to church." But then the pattern repeats every single Sunday and every holiday. My mother sees someone my age and immediately draws a comparison, acting as if they are pure and saintly while I am nothing but a sinner.

Carl Miller11 said:I wanted to write something along those lines to you, but here it is! I'll sign off on this... instead of complaining, finish school, find a job, and goodbye... go build your own life.
😁(on your own terms)

Look, I am finishing my degree, but I can't exactly push June or September deadlines back to April.🤣
It seems like you’ve completely missed the point here.🙂 😁
I was expecting some actual substance based on the depth of experience I carry myself.
Is going to Mass and practicing religion really what fascinates you?

The whole prayer meal thing just strikes me as ridiculous. I'm a practical person and I've honestly forgotten most of the prayers. Especially when they start cycling through five Ocenas, five Hail Marys, three Glory be to the Father, then intentions for the deceased, and then for people whose names you can't even recall. Apparently, doing all that on every single holiday is what makes life interesting for you.☕

Joseph Wright4 said:You're bored... so you're bored again... whatever.

Look, man, putting your parents aside—who, if everything you're saying is true, clearly have no boundaries—you just come across to me like a spoiled brat.

You're bored.. so you won't do this... or that...

For God's sake, you're 23. If you're even in college, you should be graduating or pretty close to it by now. You could at least get a part-time job every now and then to make some cash (not enough for a $3,000-a-month apartment 🙄, but hey—welcome to the real world). There are people looking for roommates where you wouldn't pay more than $1,200 a month.

The fact that you aren't doing any of this because you can't be bothered, and because you're probably used to being taken care of and would rather listen to your parents nag you than actually take care of yourself... well, that's a whole other issue. Either way—this whining isn't going to help you, though I guess it's easier than actually doing something about it.

Spoiled or not, everyone should have the right to their own religious or non-religious choices. Isn't that what's written in the Declaration of Human Rights? ☕

I focus on things I love, I plan to finish my degree and get a job, hang out with friends, earn my own way, and live my life. I've already graduated; I didn't fail any years. Again, if I moved into a shared apartment, I'd be giving up a certain level of material security. And the job market isn't exactly booming right now either.

I've been listening to my parents' dictates since I was a child. Imagine what it's like growing up under the weight of tradition and intense religiosity. This didn't just start two or three years ago; it's been happening since birth, though their fanaticism really ramped up around 2005.

Back in 2005, I was 17. What could I have done back then? How could I have lived independently?

This isn't about whining; it's about the American story, about the reality of modern America. I am speaking on behalf of tens of thousands of young people.

dustyjackal72 said:Hang in there. You also need to be a bit more patient with their beliefs; if you start attacking them, they’ll just see it as a personal assault and hit back twice as hard. Just tell them clearly that this is your choice and they need to respect it. My own mother pulls the same drama when I tell her I don't believe in God, but she doesn't try to force it on me. A little blowup here and there, then things cool down after five minutes, and we have peace until the next holiday. Honestly, any parent who prioritizes religious nonsense over their own kid is a complete idiot in my book. My mom always gets it right—we stay cool and respect each other regardless of any religious differences.

If they happen to corner you with their preaching, just tell them you weren't raised to be a liar. That effectively shuts their mouth. Don't waste too much energy trying to reason with them if they're that deep in fanaticism. For the sake of your mother, just go to church once or twice a year; it won't kill you if she's begging you. If it comes up every Sunday, just say you have work or something. As for money, if you aren't starving, there's no need to make a massive scene about everything. You're not a minor; you can get a job. Other people worked while finishing college and they turned out fine. It isn't fair, true, but that's life in general. My advice? Grow up as fast as you can.

I’m not really out to attack them for leaving; if someone feels like they need to enter a convent, that's their call, and honestly, I couldn't care less. My issue is more personal. Growing up, I was pretty consistent about going to religious education classes and attending Mass, but once I finished my Confirmation, I started to drift away. I did try to make an appearance at Mass here and there after that, but it became incredibly rare. Then, around 2005, I made another genuine attempt to get back into the fold—not because I wanted to dodge some lecture or social pressure, but because I actually wanted to be there. The problem is that the Church has introduced so much new stuff lately that it feels like the goalposts are constantly moving. It’s just too much to keep up with, and frankly, I can't track it all anymore.

My decision has to align perfectly with how they live; if I don't walk the same path, there simply isn't another way out for me. If I deviate, I’ll end up in hell. 😁 It seems like I only ever see people around here during the holidays or on Sundays; the rest of the work week, the place is practically a ghost town.

It feels like we’re seeing an endless surge of these things lately—all these religious holidays, feast days, and massive pilgrimages popping up everywhere. People keep questioning me, asking why I don't just pack my bags and head out to Fatima, Lourdes, Medjugorje, or Rome myself. But they aren't getting the point. This isn't some casual vacation or a trip to Disney World; it's something else entirely. On top of that, most of these trips involve grinding it out on a bus for hours on end. It’s such a long haul, and honestly, it sounds exhausting. Most of the time, you can't even just hop on a quick flight because the whole idea is supposed to be an act of penance, forcing you to take the hard way.

When I try to explain to them that I’ve basically thrown away $300 or $400 on this trip by not going, they just give me this patronizing line about how kids in the youth group beg their parents to take them along. They even act like it’s some sort of rite of passage where kids have to grind through summer jobs just to scrape together enough cash for these pilgrimages. Look, it’s not even about the money or whether I’d be willing to work for it—I wouldn't go even if it were free. It's the whole vibe. You've got elderly folks and people in their 40s or 50s trekking around all day, hitting up different churches, hiking through mountains and hills... it sounds exhausting, and honestly, it just sounds incredibly boring to me.

Do you have any idea just how many holidays we actually deal with? It feels like there's always something on the calendar.

New Year's Day, Three Kings, funeral masses, Ash Wednesday, the Quatertimes, those Tuesdays leading up to Anthony, and then you've got the Annunciation, Easter, the whole stretch of Holy Week, the Assumption of Mary, the Feast of the Infant Jesus, Christmas Eve, Midnight Mass, Christmas itself, and St. Stephen’s. On top of all that, there are my parents' wedding anniversaries, which are always marked by a mass and a blessing for the house. Throw in four or five pilgrimages throughout the year and every single Sunday, not to mention maybe two or three charismatic retreats. Then you have the Linic gatherings that run all weekend at the local arena or the Sports Center—I can't even keep track anymore—lasting seven or eight hours at a time. Honestly, it feels like we’re drowning in it. There's just too much.

And then they have the nerve to turn it around on me and ask, "Why don't you just go to all these events like any other sane person would?" It’s incredible. They immediately label me as the outlier, the one who isn't "normal" simply because I choose not to participate. Honestly, when people start questioning your sanity just because you don't follow the crowd, it triggers this deep sense of repulsion. It's hard not to feel a certain level of disdain when the baseline for being a functional human being is dictated by how many social gatherings you can attend.

Trying to have a conversation with my mom is honestly a lost cause. It’s like talking to a brick wall because she’s already decided on her verdict: I’m not going, and there isn't a single valid excuse in the world that could change her mind. It doesn't matter how much education I have, all the life experience I've gathered, or the places I've traveled; none of that carries any weight with her. In her eyes, none of those things count for anything when it comes to this.
She’s probably just nursing some resentment. She’s spent her entire life embedded in the Church, living by those old-school traditions, and while that lifestyle might not have always sat right with her, she stuck with it nonetheless. Now, seeing someone else deviate bothers her—and honestly, I can't stand seeing people being persecuted for their choices either.

For instance, she loves to claim that I pass my exams simply because she prayed for me. But if I happen to fail one, suddenly it’s "divine retribution" because I didn't pray enough. 🤣 It’s classic cherry-picking; she only says whatever fits her narrative at the moment.

Back when we found out the Pope was coming to town, she immediately grilled me, asking why I wouldn't go when hundreds of thousands of perfectly "normal" people were heading there.
I told her straight up that I couldn't care less about the spectacle. ☕ They even traveled all the way to a smaller city in the Midwest once when the Pope visited there; there was no way in hell I was making that kind of trip, especially not on a cramped bus just because everyone advised against driving due to the total lack of parking.

At the end of the day, it all boils down to me clashing with the rest of my extended family.
The younger generation of my relatives hardly ever sets foot in church, yet the kids of our family friends? They’re in every Sunday. According to them, those kids are absolute saints—modest, polite, and perfect—even if they happen to be using drugs on the side. Apparently, that doesn't count against their reputation.
I remember seeing an old acquaintance from high school attending Mass every single week. I know plenty of bad things about him, but I don't feel the need to run to his parents and shatter their illusion of having the "perfect Catholic son." In their eyes, he’s a better person than I am. If they actually knew how he lived his life, they’d stop holding him up as some kind of moral compass.

frozenraven5 said:Just transfer to a university out of state.🤷 Sure, you'll lose the luxury of having someone else cook, iron, laundry, and clean up after you... but hey, that's the price of freedom.🙂

They wouldn't dream of footing the bill for my relocation, all because I refuse to bow down to any religious dogma. It’s funny, really—if I actually showed up at a local church on Sundays like everyone else expects, they’d probably hand me the keys to a luxury condo in downtown Chicago without a second thought.🙄
Honestly, the sheer amount of time you have to spend sitting in a church pew just to stay in good standing is enough to make me nauseous. If I actually committed to following all those religious rituals, I wouldn't have to lift a finger for the rest of my life. It’s like there's this unspoken deal where if you just surrender your entire schedule to the clergy, they'll suddenly hand you a pass to live a life of total leisure. Apparently, once you check all those boxes, you finally become "suitable" or "desirable" enough to fit into their perfect little mold of a traditional American family.

frozenraven5 said:I honestly don't get how parents even track if you actually went to confession or not? 🤔

Look, if you aren't working right now, just enroll in some undergrad program somewhere else—maybe over in Rome 😉😁—and until you can move out, just live your life and stop picking fights. Seriously, if your mom is that intense, it’s no wonder you're being just as stubborn. Their house, their rules—that's just how it works. You have a choice here. Maybe it's smarter, if moving out isn't an option yet, to just cover your own food costs, eat whatever you want when you're out, and then just eat whatever Mom makes when you're home. I'm guessing if she doesn't eat meat, she probably doesn't cook it either, so just play along. It sounds like money isn't the issue, so just grab lunch out and respect her rules while you're in her kitchen. If she were vegan, man, you'd be in even more trouble.

Your dad seems like someone who could actually be on your side, so maybe try working on that relationship. Just explain to them that you respect their way of life, but you haven't felt that "calling" yet, and leave it at that...

You can dodge Mass if you've got other things to do, and besides, if she's getting them something for their anniversary, it's not like it's such a huge deal if it makes them happy.

Everything is manageable if you just show a little tolerance 🙂

Maybe that’s just because of what the priest tells them during confession. 😉 So, my mom keeps coming at me with this whole lecture about how the priest said all faithful people have a moral obligation to spread the word about that sacred rite to their neighbors. It’s like she thinks she’s doing some kind of spiritual outreach every time we sit down for dinner. I have to tell her constantly—just leave me out of it entirely. I really don't need the updates.
You probably wouldn't believe me if I told you about the time I went to confession at a different parish across town. 🤣
What good is getting a postgraduate degree anyway? I’ll probably be out of the picture for two or three years before I find my way back here. The real question is whether anyone would actually foot the bill for my tuition, considering I have absolutely no interest in following the traditional path everyone else seems to obsess over. 😍 Their financial support is entirely dependent on how much respect I show them. It’s that simple. If I’m sitting in a pew at the local church every single Sunday, the money keeps flowing. But honestly, I have zero interest in putting on an act or pretending to be a devout believer just to keep the bank account full. Back when I was being forced to go against my will, my mother would grill me about every little detail of the service. She’d ask me what happened during the Mass, which specific letter was read, or what the Gospel was about, and she’d even demand descriptions like, "Tell me about the people reading the scriptures—what were they wearing?" Eventually, those interrogations made the whole experience so exhausting that I just couldn't stomach those forced visits anymore. 🤣

That’s exactly where the problem lies. I can't even live my own non-religious, secular life in peace because I’m stuck living under their roof. They basically dictate the reality of the household, spinning their own version of the truth and manufacturing whatever narrative suits them at any given moment.
Whenever I’m sticking to my fasting days, I can’t help but find myself spiraling into these deep, repetitive memories about how exactly they ended up buying that specific food in the first place.

Am I being too rigid? Look, if they want to spend three hundred days a year fasting, that’s their business. If they want to spend their entire lives inside a cathedral, more power to them. I really don't care what they do with their time, as long as I'm not forced to step foot in there myself. Honestly, the whole atmosphere gives me a terrible feeling, and I'd rather just stay far away from it.
My mom doesn't exactly spend her afternoons hovering over a stove cooking meat, but she’s got this uncanny, almost supernatural ability to sniff out when someone's been raiding the fridge for the good stuff. It doesn't matter if it's high-end deli meats, some artisanal prosciutto, or those premium smoked sausages we keep tucked away; she notices the second a single slice goes missing. It’s like she has a sixth sense for our charcuterie stash. 😂 I can't even face a simple piece of toast or a bowl of green salad right now. 🙄 I stay active, I’m constantly hitting the books, and I make sure to get out there and be social—basically, my life is a constant motion, and because of that, I need a serious amount of fuel to keep the engine running.

I honestly can't stand vegans. I’ve got people I know constantly nitpicking me just because I eat meat or carry products made from goat milk. They are such absolute fanatics about it.
For the last five or six years now, my dad hasn't really been an ally; he claims to be staying neutral, but let's be real, he always sides with my mom.

What kind of obligations could I possibly have on a Sunday at 6:00 PM? Absolutely none. They know my schedule inside and out.

Nicole James said:So, you’re 23, right? Tell me—are you working somewhere at the moment?

I’m still finishing up my degree, and honestly, trying to scrape together $130,000 for a down payment on a condo feels impossible. 😁 Renting is just an endless money pit.
My point about being 23 was that I don't meet the credit requirements for a mortgage yet. It’s like everything changed; that level of fanaticism wasn't really a thing until about six years ago.

I’m twenty-three years old, and I feel like I’m living under a microscope because my family is just way too intensely religious. It isn't just about their own faith, either; they have this overwhelming need to force everyone else in the house to live by their exact same rigid standards. It’s like they can't distinguish between their own personal convictions and a mandate that should apply to the entire household.
It’s pretty clear that from the moment we’re kids, there’s this systematic indoctrination through religious content baked right into the foundation of our upbringing. It isn't just an accident or a series of isolated incidents; it’s more like a built-in feature of the way we're raised in America. From the earliest stages of childhood, you see these specific religious narratives being fed to us, almost like a pre-programmed script designed to shape how we view the world before we've even developed the capacity to think critically about it. It’s a pervasive layer of influence that starts at home and follows you straight into the classroom, creating a sort of cultural feedback loop where certain beliefs are presented not as options, but as fundamental truths.

Baptism.
The whole concept of attending Mass—it’s become such a layered thing, hasn't it? It isn't just about the ritual itself or the quiet moments of reflection; it’s really about that fundamental drive to show up, to be present in that sacred space, even when life feels like a chaotic whirlwind. I often think about how people view it—some see it as a heavy obligation, almost like a chore on a Sunday morning checklist, while others find it to be the one anchor in an otherwise drifting existence. It’s a bit like how some folks insist on their morning coffee at Starbucks before they can even function; for them, it's a necessary ritual to center themselves before facing the grind of the week. But with Mass, there’s a much deeper, more spiritual weight to that consistency. Whether you're sitting there in total silence or feeling lost in the liturgy, there's something to that act of simply being present in the house of God.
It really makes you think about how we handle faith and education in this country—whether it’s through Sunday school at the local parish or those religious studies classes they offer in public schools. It’s a delicate balance, isn't it? On one hand, you have the community aspect of church-based learning, which feels much more intimate and rooted in tradition. On the other, there's the formal academic side of things within the school system, where the approach is often more structured and, frankly, can feel a bit more detached from the actual spiritual experience. It's like comparing a small-town neighborhood gathering to a massive lecture hall at a state university; both serve a purpose, but the energy and the way the information hits you are worlds apart.
The priest, the communion... honestly, it just feels like one of those moments where you realize how much things have shifted. It’s funny how certain rituals can feel so heavy one minute and then completely hollow the next, depending on how you look at it.
It feels like every single time I open this board, there’s some new post dedicated to every minor holiday on the calendar. It’s constant—just a relentless stream of celebrations for every little occasion you can think of.
I haven't stepped foot inside a church in several years now.
I’ve never been able to wrap my head around how the Catholic Church operates these days. Honestly, they just rub me the wrong way—they’re incredibly tedious, constantly overstepping their bounds, and frankly, pretty uninspiring. It feels like they’re always trying to push their agenda onto everyone else while clinging to these rigid, overly strict rules that just don't seem to fit with the modern world. It’s exhausting.
Religion classes are easily one of the most mind-numbing subjects you can be forced to sit through, and if you ask me, they have absolutely no business being part of the curriculum in any public school system across the country.
There was this stretch of my life where I found myself constantly surrounded by clergy and their constant preaching, and honestly, it just never sat right with me.
Look, I’ll be straight with you—my parents are incredibly well-off, and while I've managed to move out and live on my own, I still find myself constantly pinching pennies. It’s one of those weird, frustrating contradictions where you have this safety net sitting right there in the background, yet your actual day-to-day bank account says otherwise. You’re essentially navigating the reality of being an independent adult on a budget that doesn't quite match the privilege of your family tree.
My mother is constantly breathing down my neck about how I live my life, practically begging me to follow her strict dietary rules. She won't even let me touch meat products, and she’s turned into a total detective lately. While she was away on a business trip to Chicago, she somehow managed to dig up some old receipt showing that I went to a bakery for dessert on a day she considers a fast day, and now she won't let it go. It’s become this endless cycle of lectures about religious fasting, avoiding animal fats, and all those specific traditional dietary restrictions. It feels like I can't even grab a snack without being interrogated about my spiritual standing.
My parents are the type who never miss a Sunday service, and they’re always on schedule for every major holiday, those smaller feast days, and even the heavy liturgical seasons. They’ll head out on pilgrimages two or three times a year, too. In the beginning, they used to give me grief about not joining them, but honestly, I just don't see the logic in it. It doesn't click for me.
I’ve got some serious reservations about the sheer, unbridled materialism coming from the Church lately; honestly, if I were looking at the census data based solely on parental choice, I wouldn't be checking the Catholic box.
People keep harping on about this supposed "ancestral tradition," acting like it’s some sacred inheritance we’re all obligated to carry. Honestly? I’ve already walked away from all that. It’s just not my thing. 😁 I’m living like a Turk. 🤣
I’ve always managed to make something of myself through education, and I wouldn't call myself a troublemaker or someone who goes looking for a fight. I’m generally a pretty level-headed person, but I have zero patience for fanaticism. I can't stand the constant brainwashing or those tedious, performative manifestations that seem to pop up everywhere lately. I just prefer to hold my ground against all that noise.
Whenever the holidays roll around, everyone starts nudging me to head down to confession. They make it feel like this mandatory annual ritual, but honestly, I haven't stepped foot in a confessional in maybe four or five years now. It’s just not something that’s on my radar anymore; the whole thing just doesn't interest me.
My parents have this habit of paying for memorial masses for our departed relatives, and since there are quite a few of them, they fully expect me to show up and participate in these services. I just can't bring myself to do it; it’s something I simply don't feel a connection to. It’s like when my mom and dad celebrate their wedding anniversaries by paying for a mass to give thanks for their marriage—it's their way of honoring their history, but then Mom gets frustrated with me because I won't attend those milestones either. It feels like an obligation I can't quite square with my own beliefs.
Growing up, I absolutely loathed those weekly choir rehearsals; the repertoire was nothing but a endless parade of incredibly dull, uninspired songs that felt like a chore to get through.
It’s funny how it works—you see a kid participating in a church service, maybe helping at the altar or leading a hymn, and suddenly, to a mother, they’re instantly transformed into these little saints. They look like "better" children than I ever was, especially compared to me. It’s the same thing when you see those kids making pilgrimages to holy sites or participating in religious processions; there’s this immediate assumption that because they’re performing these outward acts of devotion, they possess some level of moral superiority or a purity that others just don't have.
It’s like their whole system of financial aid is built on some kind of moral performance review. If I were more devout, if I acted like the absolute worst kid on the block, or if I showed up to church every single Sunday, I’d probably be able to wish for whatever I wanted and get it. It’s all conditional on how well you play the part.
It feels like my entire apartment gets stripped bare every single Saturday; it’s not just one room, either—the whole living space gets completely cleared out.
My living space is absolutely cluttered with these cheap little statues and crystals, and honestly, it’s getting ridiculous. Every time I try to point out that they’re just victims of some massive influx of mass-produced junk from overseas manufacturers, I get hit with this lecture about how everything is "blessed by holy water." It’s exhausting. I actually had a bit of a mishap once—purely by accident—where I grabbed what I thought was just another bottle of water, only to realize it was one of those "holy water" bottles. I took a sip, and let me tell you, the taste was absolutely revolting. It was sitting right there next to the Gatorade and the sparkling water, so I didn't stand a chance. Instead of an apology for the confusion, they just looked at me with these patronizing smiles, telling me how lucky I was and suggesting that maybe, just maybe, this accidental drink would finally set me on the "right path" in life. Typical. 🤣
I don't bother with grace before meals, mostly because it drives my mom absolutely crazy. Honestly, though, everything seems to get under her skin lately. My dad just finds her whole religious obsession hilarious; he can't help but poke fun at her during service, especially when she’s getting all worked up over the little things. He’ll even sit there cracking up at the priest's terrible articulation.
I have to show up for this house blessing thing since I’m technically living under their roof. Honestly, the group that comes around to do these blessings every year seems to get more morbid and increasingly exhausting with every passing season.
It’s funny how things work out—I look back at my parents, and it feels like as they get older, they just become more and more hardcore fanatics about everything.
Honestly, I just can't bring myself to care about this. It all feels incredibly tedious and, frankly, pretty dull to me. I’m not exactly counting down the days until the Pope arrives, and I don't feel that same sense of excitement when people talk about those high-energy spiritual retreats led by those charismatic preachers—you know the type, like those big evangelical revival meetings you see on TV. To me, it all just feels completely hollow.
They just kept going at it until they eventually burned themselves out. But Mom would never be the one to admit that Mr. Henderson was getting tedious. Her official line was always some variation of, "I just don't have the time."
My mom keeps nagging me about why I never show up to early morning services. She’s convinced that because she sees crowds of young people with their backpacks everywhere during those early hours, I should be right there in the mix with them. Apparently, in her mind, if they're doing it, I should be too, and she can't quite wrap her head around why I'd choose to sleep in instead.
To put it bluntly, their sheer fanaticism has become a massive roadblock for me, making it nearly impossible to just go about my daily life like a normal person.
- I have zero interest in religious matters; honestly, I don't find any fulfillment there. My mother keeps making these analogies about physical nourishment—how much I enjoy eating good food—and tries to draw a parallel by claiming I’m just as starved for spiritual sustenance. 🙄 It is genuinely hard to wrap my head around how educated people in the 21st century can be this exhausting.
😁

To me, religious fanaticism is simply not fun. We just operate on different wavelengths. I am strictly secular, democratic, and frankly, religion isn't even on my radar. According to my mom, everyone eventually crawls back to the Church, but by then, it’ll be too late. She holds this conviction that people fall ill because they aren't praying, they struggle to find work because they aren't praying, they fail their exams because they aren't praying, and their marriages crumble because they aren't praying.
As if sitting in a library and grinding through six hours of studying doesn't actually mean anything. 🙂

When I pointed out that being forced to attend Catholic services feels like being trapped, she told me I should just leave home and move out. I countered that you can't really "un-subscribe" from something that functions like a cult. Her response? She said she’d call a psychologist to "cure" me since I’m clearly not thinking straight. 🙂
It’s as if their upbringing is so incredibly monotonous that life itself becomes a dull repetition, regardless of how much material wealth they might have.

How does one learn to coexist in a household like this?
The reality is that I can't fully fund my own independence yet, which means I can't just go out and buy my own place.
Furthermore, trying to convince Mom to just let me be regarding my views on religion is a lost cause. She claims that nobody is forcing me to do anything, yet every single holiday or Sunday rolls around, and she starts her campaign to convert me all over again.
She even goes to the priests during confession to talk about me, and they tell her that I’m abnormal and that something is fundamentally wrong with my mindset. 🙂 🙂

To her, my argument—"I used to be part of the Church, I didn't like that aspect, and I never want to belong to it again"—isn't nearly enough.
She constantly lectures me about the mysteries of Lourdes, about converts, and about people who were miraculously healed. To me, it has all become so tedious; there are so many of these testimonies that you start to wonder if such a massive number of healings is even statistically plausible. We are left with nothing but their word. When I suggest to Mom that maybe they are lying, she snaps back that God would never punish them for telling a lie. 🙂

There is just this incredibly stifling atmosphere in our house. I have no interest in decorating for holidays, exchanging gifts, celebrating traditions, or even marking my own birthday. I just want nothing to do with the whole spectacle of celebrations.