Dear Church, We’re Through

Dear Church,

I’m breaking up with you.

It’s not you, it’s me.

No, really, it is you.

I realize we’ve been together for a long time and, yes, we’ve had our fun, but the truth is—and this is so hard to say—I’ve changed, and I just can’t live this way anymore.

Sometimes I feel like you don’t appreciate me—like I’m invisible, almost. It’s like I exist to pick up after you and make sure all your needs are met, but that seems to be a one-way street. You tell me that growing our family should be reward enough, but I’m exhausted and desperate for your help.

You’re so nice when you’re around others. I don’t recognize you sometimes. You smile and shake hands and exude godliness, but that’s an act you’ve become so good at performing. Behind closed doors, you are sullen and controlling, ready to strike out if I even look at you the wrong way. It’s confusing, because you always seem eager to feed the hungry, but when I ask for help with groceries because our cupboards are empty, you ignore me. Believe me, I’ve tried so many times to feed our family with prayers, but I am not Jesus, and even he had a little bread and fish to work with.

I don’t know when everything became about politics, conspiracies, and rights. You’ve become so defensive all the time, it’s hard to see the one I thought I loved through all of this “righteous” anger. I know you have the potential for great love—that’s who I fell for all of those years ago, after all—but I don’t know where the plot was lost. Now you’re so focused on greatness and freedom that you can’t even see the war you’ve started.

When I was hurting, instead of making sure I had Band-Aids, aspirin, and chicken soup, you told me it was my fault I felt bad. You said I would feel amazing and that all of my problems would magically vanish if only I would do what you told me to. When I was down, you kicked me repeatedly because I didn’t fall into a nice, neat line. When I was scared and ashamed, instead of being my gentle shelter, you made me an example for all to see.

Remember that day you pushed me outside and locked the doors between us, yelling at me for being disobedient and proud? It was so cold out there and I was already suffering. The truth is, what I needed the most was the comfort of your arms and a warm bowl of soup. How easy it would have been to be the hands and feet of compassion! But, to you, I was foolish and difficult, and I no longer belonged at your side.

And I know I’m not the only one you’ve treated this way. I’ve seen your exes. You called them psycho. You called them unfaithful. You called them dangerous, but I’ve watched them rush to cross the street when they see you coming. They still have the bandages and angry scars left over from your time together. It’s strange how I’ve never seen even a hair out of place on your head, yet you’re always the victim.

As you know, I’ve tried to speak with you about all of this many times, but I realize I am a woman, I am the weaker vessel, and I instantly lose. You pat my head and dismiss my feelings. You cannot possibly shove your feet in my sensible heels to travel any distance, so I must be complaining because I’m PMSing. I’m also bitter, unhinged, contentious, and a Jezebel bent on seduction. I could go on, you know, but I won’t. I’m done with the projection, the gaslighting, the blame-shifting, the triangulation. This is abuse.

I no longer trust you to protect me and cherish me. You’ve proven to me that you’re only concerned with numero uno. Image management is what it’s all about, and I totally get it. I’m cramping your style and you’re embarrassed to be seen with me.

I should have done this a long time ago, but I had this silly idea you’d change. What’s the definition of insanity? Doing the same thing over and over and hoping for different results? Well, I’m through with the insanity. I’m done waiting for change that isn’t coming.

You’ve accused me of cheating so many times, and I denied it until I was blue in the face… but I guess now is as good a time as any to tell you that you were right. I’m in love with someone else.

He’s so kind and thoughtful. Anything I need, he’s right there with it before I even have to ask. When I’m not feeling well, he’s by my side the whole time, taking care of me. When I’m hungry, he feeds me. When I have nothing to wear, he makes sure I’m covered. And he’s the best listener, always ready to hear me and hold me. Every day he shows me how treasured I am to him. I’ve never, ever felt like this before, and this incredible love has changed me in more ways than I could ever count. He truly is superior to you in every way.

I know this can’t be easy to hear, but I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t finally get it off my chest. You’ll probably be mad at me and trash-talk me to your friends as soon as you finish this letter, but whatever. I just hope the next one that wanders into your path doesn’t go through the same torture I did. I already feel sorry for them. I would try to warn them about you, but I know how you talk about your crazy exes. They probably wouldn’t listen anyway—I know I sure didn’t.

You’ll make a really great catch someday… if you could just change everything about yourself.

Sincerely,

Me

P.S. That red hat looks stupid on you. lol