Miray Cakici

My Turn Essay: Religious Differences Growing Up

Religion has always been a pivotal aspect of culture. Depending on where you were born and
how you were raised, those conditions will most likely determine your religious beliefs. Growing
up in the Middle East, chances are that you will practice Islam, while in the Western world, most
practice some form of Christianity. The same is with me, as I was raised in a non-religious
family, the topic of whether God truly existed or not, and if so, which God from which faith was
never brought up. Naturally, I was never incredibly knowledgeable about religion and had no
belief in some form of God. Even if I did not know at the time, I had always been an atheist.

Before I transferred to Basis, my education came from a public school which consisted of
students who came from mostly strict Christian and sometimes Catholic families. Just as I was
raised with a lack of religion, they were raised with a strong understanding of one. Discussions
on who would be attending the local church the following weekend were always constant. Sitting
at the lunch table as I did every day, one girl who I was close with at the time, spoke up, “We
have never seen you before at church. Do you go somewhere else?” I felt their badgering eyes on
me as a surge of panic filled me up from the inside. For someone so young at the time, I felt the
need to blend in, as I worried that I would surely be judged. Feeling incredibly anxious, I quickly
blurted out a lie that I most definitely did practice Christianity with my family, but attended a
different church. Why didn’t I tell the truth? Will they believe me? As I lowered my gaze I felt
their suspicion blazing into my soul, their fiery gaze melting away the fabrication of a story I had
conjured up, uncovering the real truth. However, the idea that they had discovered my deception
was untrue as it was all fiction concocted in my head due to my incredibly uneasy state of mind.

My blatant lie followed me around like a menacing ghost, waiting for the moment I slip up,
revealing the truth to all my friends. The pressure was overbearing. It felt like I was being
suffocated by the guilt I felt for lying. As I had gone too far with my fictional story, I could not
afford to reveal the false fabrication I had spun. I could not afford to reveal my lack of faith. I
could not afford to reveal that I was an imposter among them. I gave into the overbearing stress
that weighed down on me more than any physical object possibly could and continued with my
lies. Falsification upon falsification regarding my practiced religion piled up. Putting on the fake
facade of the perfect Christian girl, I acted my part as if I was the lead role in a play. Throughout
elementary, my performance transformed me into a brilliant actress.

Looking back on it all, I wonder. What did this truly accomplish? Why did I feel the tremendous
urge to lie about my faith to maintain friendships? If I had just been honest about myself, they
might have accepted me, or at the very least not care. Carelessly, I had assumed that they would
have looked down on me as if I was a disgusting monster.

Who cares? To this very day, I could still be pondering over whether they would have respected
or rejected me. Over time, I have realized that this question is completely insignificant. The
matter is, is that I felt the need to become someone I wasn’t. Becoming so immersed in the false
narrative I had constructed for myself, I had lost a sense of my identity. Whether it’s minor
physical appearances such as eye or hair color, or something much more complex such as our
individual moral philosophies, we should be encouraged to embrace and display these. That’s
what I should have done instead of hiding under a blanket meticulously crafted by my lies.
Differences are normal. Differences should be welcomed. Above all, differences are what makes
us, ​US​.