I grew up with Christian beliefs.


For a long time, I tried to make them fit. I went to church, listened to the sermons, and did my best to accept the answers that I was given. But the more I thought for myself, the less it made sense. Christianity, at least the way it was presented to me, leaned heavily on fear- fear of hell, fear of punishment, fear of being "wrong" in the eyes of God. Believe this, or else. Follow the rules or pay the price. That never felt like love to me, it felt like control.


Let's be honest- where are the dinosaurs in the Bible? They roamed this Earth millions of years, and yet the "book of all answers" doesn't seem to have room for them. If we're supposed to accept the Bible as complete truth of creation, then why does science tell a completely different story? If Christians are the epitome of love and acceptance, why is there so much hatred for others who are different, who believe different things? Questions like that piled up for me until faith by fear wasn't sustainable for me anymore.


That's when I turned outward-and inward-for answers. For years I have been diving into the works Dolores Cannon and Michael Newton, and books like Journey of Souls have completely shifted how I see life, death, and everything in between. Their work explores past lives, life between lives, and the idea that we are souls choosing our experiences, families, and more before we even arrive here. Suddenly, things that never added up in church make sense. The struggles in my life weren't punishments; they were lessons. The people I've crossed paths with weren't accidents; they are part of a bigger plan.


What truly draws me to spirituality is how it centers on love and empathy, not fear and judgement. Instead of telling me who is "saved" and who is "lost," spirituality teaches me to see everyone as worthy of compassion. It asks me to listen, to understand, and to know that everyone is worthy of compassion. It doesn't matter what you believe, who you love, or where you come from-you're still part of something bigger. That kind of inclusiveness feels far more powerful and healing than any sermon rooted in fear.


For me, spirituality is about freedom. It's about being able to question without guilt and believe without limits. It's about trusting my intuition, looking for lessons hidden in challenges, and understanding that love-not fear- is the real teacher here. I don't find God in threats of hellfire. I find the divine in the way a stranger's kindness can shift my whole day, in the way nature calms my soul, and in those little moments of synchronicity that remind me that the universe is listening.


I'm not afraid of burning in hell for questioning anymore because there isn't a hell. I'm afraid of living a life without empathy, without growth, without love.


Religion gave me boundaries. Spirituality gave me wings- and more importantly it gave me an open heart. And I'll take that every single time.