I’ve spent most of my life as what people would probably call a “non-practicing” Catholic. I’m not even sure that label fully fits, but it’s the closest one people tend to use. I don’t attend church regularly, and there are teachings, not just in Catholicism, but in many Christian spaces -- that I struggle to agree with.
Still, I never felt like I walked away from God.That part never left.
A conversation circulating online caught my attention -- sparked by news about a former member of a popular girl group, who is now married to a Christian man openly expressing his disapproval of the group she once belonged to. His reasons were familiar: the way they dressed, the image they represented, even the group’s name, he claimed, were incompatible with his beliefs.
With the the divide and reactions unfolding, I realized the discussion wasn’t really about one couple or one dance group. It revealed something deeper -- how faith is sometimes communicated in ways that feel more condemning than compassionate. Moments like this remind me that many people don’t necessarily reject faith itself. Often, they struggle with how it is presented to them. When belief is framed primarily through judgment or restriction, it isn’t always God people walk away from. But it's the experience of being made to feel small or wrong before they are even understood.
Over the years, I’ve heard and experienced conversations about faith that felt less like connection and more like persuasion. The intention may have been good, but the approach often wasn’t. People spoke in a language that only made sense within church circles. They come in strong, already convinced they needed to change you. And instead of feeling understood, one feels assessed, like a project waiting to be completed.
That’s usually where the disconnect begins.
Faith, at least as I’ve come to understand it, is deeply relational. It cannot exist meaningfully without listening, context, or genuine curiosity about another person’s life. When someone skips those parts and goes straight to correction or conversion, the message gets lost, long before it can even be understood.
And without understanding, there isn’t really a choice being made at all.
I’ve had moments where conversations about belief felt strangely impersonal -- as if who I was mattered less than where someone hoped I would end up spiritually. Not out of cruelty, but out of certainty. And certainty, when paired with urgency, can sometimes push people further away instead of drawing them closer.
So I want to be clear about something.
I am not searching for another religion. I’m not interested in converting or being convinced to leave the faith I was born into. I was baptized Catholic, and whatever my level of participation may look like from the outside, that remains where I stand. My relationship with God exists in a quieter space. It may not align with institutional expectations, but is real to me, nonetheless.
For some of us, faith isn’t performative. It doesn’t need to be constantly proven.
What many people are really asking for is simple. That is to be treated as people first, and not missions or unfinished work...
Questioning doesn’t automatically mean rejection. Disagreement doesn’t mean absence of faith. Sometimes, it simply means a person is trying to protect something sacred in their own way.
If there’s one thought I keep coming back to, it’s this: people are not projects. They are human beings with histories, doubts, experiences, and beliefs shaped, long before any single conversation takes place.
And maybe faith was never meant to be something we prove to each other -- only something we learn to live honestly, between ourselves and God.