Why I Became A Pagan

My story is pretty standard. I've been indoctrinated by parents, teachers and church leaders into fearing a god who embodied everything I was against. I was always fascinated by astronomy, mythology and nature as a child. I even had a neat little astronomy book for kids with the moon phases in it. I found the moon to be a beautiful, mysterious entity and longed to honor its beauty. So, I would take a cup of grape juice to my room, light some candles and drink to every stage of the moon. One time, my mother discovered me and told me that what I was doing was "devilish". For many years as a child, I longed to be like the other children and go out trick-or-treating during Halloween. But, my mother forbade me and I dared not question her, because I knew it meant punishment from her god. One day, she considered letting me go out if her research on Halloween didn't turn up with anything evil. Unfortunately, she found the page with the ancient Druid practice and of eating babies (which was obviously on a Christian website, but of course, as a child, I didn't question the source and its subjectivity). So, no cigar for me.
I was always convinced that I could go to hell for the simplest things I did. Not even my thoughts were safe in the cruel, cultish beliefs that my mother held. I had nightmares when I was young that the devil was chasing me in a horse and carriage. Some nights, I couldn't even sleep because I was afraid that the devil was under my bed, waiting to take me to hell. My mother instilled even more fear into me by telling me about a time when I was almost attacked at a Brazilian airport. Supposedly, there was a demon-possessed woman who tried to take me and hurt me. And, of course, my mother said her crazy Jesus prayers (the ones where people 'speak in tongues') and the woman left. When she talked to my aunt about the incident (my aunt used to also be a religious fanatic), she surmised that it was my fault that I had been attacked, because I ate a piece of Halloween candy!!!
 The campaing of fear continued in my home and I was kept under God's thumb. I slept with my parents until I was twelve because of these fears.
I used to have a next-door neighbor named Jenny Hawkins. She was my best friend who was of the same age as me and kind of my role model, too. She got straight A's and always behaved very well. But, her family wasn't religious. I don't know how the conversation came about, but my mother told me that Jenny would go to hell because she didn't believe in Jesus. I was in complete and utter shock. I couldn't believe that such a nice girl would just go to hell. I even told my mom, "She's too nice to go to hell." My mother literally responded, "It's not enough to be nice to get into heaven." I was so indoctrinated, that I believed that Christianity was a synonym for "good". (Meaning that whenever somebody attributed good attributes to something, I always assumed that it was because it was Christian.)
There was one stage in my life where I became an Atheist, because the Christian doctrine started to seem illogical to me. My parents quickly remedied that and smited me for straying from the path.
So, for the rest of my teenage and the beginning of my young adult life, I was more and more deeply indoctrinated. I felt dirty and perverse for believing in what I believed. I felt bad about my sexuality and dreaded every moment that I thought a sexual thought. I felt bad whenever I wanted to do things other than reading the Bible or going to church. Of course, being in a small Christian school kept the fear alive in my heart.
When I got to college, I loosened up a bit on my beliefs. I was no longer a die-hard Jesus freak, but just moderately Christian. (I actually chose to embrace Catholicism later on.) I became more open-minded and learned to accept other ways of life. I was really into metal music and had no problem listening to it. And because a substantial amount of metalheads are Pagans, I learned to like them, too. One day, I saw a Pagan metalhead post a comment on a band's MySpace page with the "Wheel of the Year". When I researched it, I became increasingly interested in Wicca. I was bewitched by its doctrine and the more I read, the more I liked, the more I felt parts of my soul reawakening and the more I began to see the ugliness of the Christian doctrine. I felt like the Christian god was like a bad boyfriend who would bitch-slap me one minute, then come back saying that He "only did it because He loves me". Eventually, I shook loose of the bonds of the previous religion and started to embrace a more loving one. I was a free Wiccan woman and nothing in the world kept my spirits down for a while.
Eventually, I started reading more and more about Wicca. My dad barged into my room once while I was not there and saw a book on witchcraft I had bought. He became an Agnostic in his later years, so he didn't make the biggest deal out of it. Even though he is such an educated man, he was also ignorant of witchcraft and assumed just like the rest of the ignorant masses that I was getting into something evil. I took the time to explain to him everything about my new religion and how good it was. However, because of his previous deeply-ingrained prejudices against witchcraft, he didn't buy into and he literally said, "Can't you just like Jesus? Or at least try another religion like Buddhism or something." It was the most imposing, ignorant, judgemental thing I had ever heard him say (especially since he was "agnostic") and I didn't even dignify it with a response.
As the time went on, I learned more and more despite what others thought of it. I learned more than just Wiccan stuff, tho. I learned about everything, because Wicca is a religion of learning and being fully educated. The more I read, the more my blood boiled. I became increasingly more knowledgable and when I saw ignorance and stupidity around me, I wanted to claw those peoples' throats out. But, because of karma, I was scared to do so, so I kept it to myself. I faked that I was at peace, but there was always a storm in my heart.
After an explosion of stress in my life, I couldn't handle the personal responsiblity of Wicca anymore. I sold my soul to the Christian god again and went crawling back to his doctrines. I wanted him to baby me and "have a plan for me" and waive and justify my evil actions or hatred as long as it was "in His name" again, just like He used to. Eventually, I started actually taking it seriously and becoming a Jesus freak again. But, that was short-lived. For you see, I had fasted and prayed for three days. And it was an intense fast, too, where I denied my body all food and scarcely ever drank water. Eventually, I reached the peak of a spiritual experience. (I will go more into this later on, but denying the body of typical carnal experiences brings you closer to intense spiritual experiences.) I had a conversation (or at least hallucinated it) with Jesus Christ. He was a pretty cool guy from what I gathered. Rather humorous and light-hearted. Not at all the serious and somber deity He is depicted as. Basically, He told me that hate is never the answer to anything, that all gods are one God and that my intent of returning to Christianity so that I could be free from personal accountability was petty and made me no better than the Christians who were just plain indoctrinated. So, I searched deep into my heart. It took a lot of thought and it was one of the most difficult dilemmas I had ever faced, but I came through with flying colors. I figured that I like freedom from religion and prefer a spiritual connection, that I like incorporating humor into sacred rituals sometimes, that I value open-mindedness and freedom to express myself however I want (as long as it's at no one's expense) and that I prefer to revere the Earth than to subdue. My new and improved Pagan self was free of animosity towards Christianity or any other religious tradition for that matter and knew how to better deal with the ignorance of others.
That is my story...and I'm sticking to it. :)