The Jealous sky daddy, his Absentee son and their Two Horned Nemesis

Once school was over in Louisiana, my mother would zoom down highway 49 to drop me off at my grandparents house, thirty minutes from the Mississippi coast. I remember those summers in Stone county, my aunties would dress me up in my “ Sunday’s best”, floral dresses with long plaits in my hair. Going to church during those days was a daunting task, it just didn't sit right in my soul as a young black girl. When we walked inside the church, everyone would be staring with judgmental expressions. The vibe of the church did not feel safe or "heavenlike". The drunk pastor would be sweating like a pig while yelling and screaming from the pulpit condemning people to hell . The church ladies would cry and pass out on the floor, which meant they were “ catching the holy ghost”. Back then, it felt like a circus spectacle in which I was forced to watch. After church, my grandmother would get on the phone with her friends and gossip about everyone from church. The pastor would come over and eat huge plate after church while talking about the church members. Afterwards, my grandmother would be so delighted, every other word would be " Pastor this and pastor that". I just did not understand how one human being had so much powers over others. Plus, I thought everyone was supposed to be saved and Christlike under Christianity. This just didn't make sense to me, even as a child . In addition, my dysfunctional relationship with the jealous sky daddy, his absentee son and their two horned nemesis was scaring me out of my mind. I remember always thinking someone was watching and keeping tabs on my behavior. Around that time,I watched a movie about a woman making a deal with the devil and the devil came back to take her soul. This movie totally freaked me out. I was already afraid Jesus would come back at any time and possibly condemn me to hell eternally. And now, I was afraid of the devil coming to get me too. Come on, give me a break. After that pivotal night, I was scared to sleep alone, go to the bathroom or walk in the kitchen at night. This led to me urinating in my bed. Keep in mind, I was a latch key kid, which meant I spent a lot of time alone while my mom was at work. Therefore, I was stuck in the house ruminating whether or not God, Jesus and the devil was coming to get me. I would cry and pray, asking God and Jesus to help me. They never came. I was a child, and did not know how to articulate my feelings to my mother. I had another conflict during that time, my mom was bi-sexual and would go out to the clubs and party. Under Christianity, being apart of the LBGT community is a sin. Drinking and having sex outside of marriage was frown upon too. My mom was in the closet at that particular time. She would tell me " don't be telling my business in the streets", which meant not to tell anyone she dated women. I felt as if I was forced to keep her "dirty" secret. Remember I was already afraid of going to hell, now I was scared my mom would be joining me . In our neighborhood, children used to tease me because my mom was gay. Sadly, I suffered in silence. The early part of my life I was tormented by religion. Unfortunately, this was my introduction to Abrahamic religion.