6. And dog-gone-it... people hate me.

From an outsider’s viewpoint, horrific acts committed in the name of God are made all the more terrible by the knowledge that those committing them would have next to no reason to do so, absent theology. I say "next to", because we silly humans are in so many ways primed for exclusivity, and a sometimes ruthless sense of tribalism. Wars will occur, crime, even hate – and all at the slightest provocation. But rarely are average citizens pressed into violence as unanimously or with as much zeal as when they are backed by divine inspiration. That in mind, I knew I’d set a cast for myself. So even approaching the idea of calling myself an atheist took time, and a little more chutzpa than one might expect.

To many, the word itself is uncomfortable; surrounded in notions of immorality, of self-centeredness, and the token similitude to “a sinful sort of self-destruction”. A non-spiritual person will go unquestioned. An agnostic can be tolerated. But an atheist? It is probably the only method of self-labeling that is inherently offensive to the American masses. No surprise that my first tentative use of the word as a personal description came anonymously, in an MMO. (That’s right, I’m a geek. Live with it.) A response to what I’d assumed was a benign and casual question, it was not well received. At the same time, seeing it printed there on the screen and knowing that I was the one who’d written it, I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of pride. I’d owned up to who I was – not openly, mind you, but it was a start. Eventually, I was able to write it again. And then again. And the more I wrote it, the more liberated I felt. It grew to the point that I was dropping the term into average (written) conversation, unprompted, for no other reason than to expand my associated comfort level by impractical way of gross overuse. Until one day, I was able to voice it aloud, and my non-religious label became a concrete, familiar possession. The problem then became one of coming to terms with the place that the label had carved for me in our world – more specifically, our nation; with our nation’s current view of religiosity.

As you now know, my first experimental blurting went poorly. The same can be said for most that followed; much to the chagrin of my social life. Reactions ranged from disdainful to detached, with looks that said (sometimes simultaneously) “Oh you poor, stupid girl”, “How sad your life must be”, and “You’ve an in with Hell, do you? You corrupt little...”

Again, I can’t really blame them. I remember the outlook. Specifically, the utter impossibility of comprehending what the person in question was trying to say. Not that they were inadequate in terms of communication; quite the contrary, atheists as a whole tend to be fairly eloquent (I’m not much of an example in this department, I know). No, the roadblock was all in my head. Literally.