I pretended to believe in God for a very long time. I wouldn’t admit, even to myself, that I didn’t believe in God because I was afraid. Afraid of dying and the thought of no afterlife. Afraid of disappointing my family. Afraid of not fitting in. Pretty much everyone I knew was Catholic, from my extended family and my best friend to my neighbors and my pals at school. I couldn’t imagine being anything but Catholic, never mind an outright unbeliever.
I went to church every Saturday evening, but instead of reciting the opening lines of Nicene Creed aloud with the rest of the parishioners — “We believe in one God, the Father Almighty, maker of Heaven and Earth, of all that is seen and unseen” — I cleared my throat or coughed instead. I couldn’t say, “We believe” aloud because I knew in my heart it was a lie. I didn’t believe. I didn’t believe in God. I didn’t believe in Jesus Christ. But I continued to pretend like I did. I was good at pretending. I fooled everyone.
The problem with pretending is that it’s easier than facing what is usually a more frightening or challenging reality. Pretending becomes comfortable, even routine, if you practice it long enough. The false persona slides in, all stealthy and sly, and before you even really know it’s happening, that persona begins to feel real. After a while, the make-believe becomes reality. That’s how easy it is, how insidious. You start off pretending to be who you want to be, or who you think other people want you to be, and before long, you buy into yourself.
That’s how it worked for me. That’s how I tricked myself into believing I believed in God for more than twenty years. And let me tell you, when you’ve perfected the act of pretending for that long, it takes a lot of time and a lot of difficult, soul-searching work to shed the layers that obscure the real you. We’re talking epic mid-life crisis, people — or, as Brene Brown likes to call it, a Breakdown Spiritual Awakening.
So let me ask you: who might you be pretending to be? The Super Mom? The Go-Getter-Has-It-All-Together Professional? The Life-is-in-Perfect-Balance Working Mom? The Proverbs 31 Wife? The Good Christian? The ____________?
Maybe you’re not pretending to be anyone – maybe you are truly and authentically 100 percent you. And if that’s the case, I am very, very glad. But if you feel a little tug in your gut, a bit of tightening in your throat when I ask that question, think about it. Who might you be pretending to be? And who might you find if you began to strip away some of those false layers?
Michelle – God has been taking me into a little journey into deeper intimacy, greater authenticity, much truer honesty. Your series has been unbelievably timely and exactly what I have needed! ~ Jen
I can so relate to the pretending about faith. I did that that for about 15 years, maybe longer. I don’t know what I was back then. I wasn’t a total unbeliever. I think I was maybe a “wanna-believer.” Because I wanted to believe.
Yikes, girlfriend! This runs parallel with chapter 3 of Emily Freeman’s A Million Little Ways. And you both are really freaking me out. I’m not sure I know anymore who I am — or was — or am really supposed to be. It’s all a little scary to think that if you tell yourself a lie long enough, to you it’s true. That’s deception, not truth. I’ve been a people pleaser for way too long, doing my level best to live up to perceived expectations. I’m embarking on an expedition to re-discover who I am and how best to please God.
“You start off pretending to be who you want to be, or who you think other people want you to be, and before long, you buy into yourself.” That sentence right there sums it all up. I don’t know when I finally became comfortable with myself, let alone my faith. Not that I’m totally comfortable with either one, mind you. But at some point along the way, I realized this is really it. Not a dress rehearsal. No do-overs. So, real is truly all I’ve got going for me. I still fool myself sometimes. The difference, I think, is that these days I know fooling myself is an option, where it used to be the only thing I knew how to do.
I’m so glad to be back here, reading your series.
Michelle This is a wonderful post. Thank you for being so authentic! You Rock!
Oh… I did the breakdown/Spiritual Awakening thing. 3-4 years ago…God let me go to the wilderness. I was Gomer. I was the woman at the well. He found me, woo’ed me back to Himself. Then, I started writing…and it’s an ongoing process. Thanks for bringing this out here today.
Hi Michelle! It seems I missed this one in my daily reading! And yet, this is the one I most relate to. The “Pretence Game”. I’ve done it most of my life. I am “The Clown” of all clowns. Disguising my pain in light-heartedness and mindless sarcasm and self-belittling. Everyone thinks I’m so much fun to hang out with; that I have an extraordinary sharp wit. My costume consists of the right clothes, awesome shoes, bling. I am a fraud. Yet, humour is the only way I’ve ever known. My Dad was a great teacher, in that respect. “Be the funny one. Dazzle others with your inherited sense of humour. Show others what a clown you can be. Get the most laughs.” Yet they say that behind every clown, there is a tragic story. Look at Robin Williams. Such sadness in his eyes. I think the only One I am genuine with, is my God…and sometimes, not even then.