Faith, Questions, and Spiritual Evolution: My Journey Beyond the Box
Disclaimer: These are my personal experiences and are not meant to represent all people within these religions or faith practices. That’s what’s beautiful about it, right? Paul emphasizes in Romans that we should avoid quarreling over minor matters of faith. We’re all on our own unique spiritual journeys, and that’s crucial for our growth as individuals—allowing us to become the fully actualized people we are meant to be.
I’d say I grew up in a full-send Catholic household, but that wouldn’t be entirely true. I guess I fell somewhere between the fully devout and the CEO Catholics—you know, the ones who only show up for mass on Christmas and Easter.
I grew up in the same town my dad did, which meant I attended the same elementary school, middle school, high school, and even college that he went to. (And trust me, the results of that are straight out of a movie—but we’ll save that for another time.)
My mom, on the other hand, came from a wildly different background. She was raised by Cuban immigrants—her parents, her aunts, her uncles, everyone. She grew up witnessing the darker practices of Santeria, a syncretic religion blending Yoruba traditions from West Africa with Catholicism and Spiritism, and later watched as her entire immediate and extended family converted to the Baptist faith.
For her, religion was fluid—less structured but deeply rooted in faith, in a divine and all-loving God. It wasn’t about rituals or rigid “works” like it was in my dad’s Catholicism, but much more personal and relationship-oriented. Plus, she worked Sundays and couldn’t go to mass with us (not that she wanted to—I mean, have you ever sat through a Catholic mass?!)
I think my mom’s perspective planted the seed for my later fascination with all religions, all spiritual practices, and seeing the beauty in all of them. But let’s get back to my Catholic school days—a quintessential Catholic school experience that you’re probably already picturing in your mind:
Nuns and priests who had also taught my dad (aka old af)
Sister Paula (who had about negative 17% patience) attempting to teach us how to diagram sentences on an old-school overhead projector
Monthly or quarterly class-wide trips for confession to the on-site church
LOTS of praying. Like… so much praying. But hey that’ll get me brownie points for Heaven right?!
And lots of praying in Spanish (for Spanish class, obviously… but other than the Hail Mary, Our Father, and Glory Be, I didn’t retain much Spanish there)
Praying the rosary on our knees during the Stations of the Cross on Good Friday
Mid-day mass on every relevant saint’s day
And on top of all that, I still went to Sunday mass with my dad—reluctantly, of course.
You get the idea.
Without getting into too much detail, I was sitting in religion class with my peers, being counseled/taught/lectured on a hot-button topic in religious communities. And I don’t know what overtook me. Maybe it was because, around this time, I had been knee-deep in sex-positive bloggers on YouTube, hearing personal stories that humanized people in ways they absolutely were not being humanized in that classroom.
And then, I did the thing.
My teacher asked who did not believe what was being taught. And I raised my hand.
Oof. Things get blurry after that. Did I advocate for my belief? Did I give examples of the people I knew or the stories I had heard that made me feel so full-body passionate about this topic? Who knows?
What I do know is that she looked me dead in the eyes and said, “Well, then you’re not Catholic.”
And your girl, at 13 years old, shrugged and said, “I guess not.”
That moment cracked something wide open in me. The rigidity, the lack of space for conversation, for pushback, for questions—it hit me deep in my core. This couldn’t be all there was. This couldn’t be the only way.
And so began my season of questioning. My eyes opened, my curiosity expanded, my hunger for conversation deepened.
"How do we know other religions are completely wrong?"
"Why would God turn His love off for certain people?"
"Is it really wrong to explore different faiths and practices for the sake of curiosity?"
Spoiler: I didn’t think so. And I was ready to find out why.
And, as you’ll find with many former Catholics, the rules, rigidity, and structure only pushed me further away. What I ingested as a student was all about the “do this, not that,” the “this is wrong, this is right,” and the constant pressure to KNOW, KNOW, KNOW this one right thing—rather than hearing, “This is WHO God is,” “This is WHO Jesus was,” and “Guess what? You can have a personal relationship with both of them (the singular them?), and it can be fun and freeing!”
What I walked away with was ashes on my forehead (with not much understanding at the time of why??), some weirdly pointless candle-like contraption around my neck for a blessing (no noticeable difference, honestly), and the lingering anxiety and shame of sitting in a confessional, face-to-face with a priest, confessing my “sins” (most of which were made up—yeah, I straight-up lied about things I hadn’t done because, honestly, I wasn’t gonna share my most personal stuff with some old man). Instead of understanding the personal relationship that Jesus supposedly wanted with me, I left with the feeling that I had to constantly DO something to earn that love. To deserve that life. This is a wound that I’m STILL working to undo – that feeling that I need to DO in order to EARN… anything: rest, love, success, the time of others.
But before you think this is about me trying to convert you into Christianity, slow your roll. Hold my hand, and take a deep breath. Trust me. I’m the Woowoo Bestie, after all. How did 10 years of Catholic school lead to this girl online teaching about crystals, essential oils, herbs, and moon rituals? Well, we’ll get into that in my next post. But for now, you need this lore to understand where it all began.
Cue movie clip skipping a few years ahead to save the viewer (or reader) some time.
I started going to a nondenominational church with my grandparents—one that was fun and all about advocating for a personal relationship with Jesus. And let me tell you, I was excited.
Religion wasn’t really on my radar in high school. Didn’t spend much time thinking about it during college either... until I joined my sorority.
Surprise, surprise, right? But did you know that most sororities are founded on Christian values? Like, they have a sorority verse, and some even have Bible-based rituals in their initiation process. I mean, they were founded in the 1800s, so it’s not that shocking.
There I was, getting discipled by an older sister. We'd meet up at this old (and totally Christian-oriented) coffee shop on campus, where we'd read the Bible together, dissect it, and talk about it. I’ll be real—I was EXCITED. It was like I’d unlocked some secret level in the Christian world. “ON FIRE!” I started going to church again, meeting with my sister weekly, doing devotionals every morning. This wasn’t just some church visit—it felt like FULL SEND Christianity. The kind of Christianity where I actually saw the freedom and abundance that I personally read about in the Bible. This was my way back to the God I knew was always there, but didn’t get the chance to know properly until now.
But... the “rebellion” that I had from middle school still lingered. The questions, the curiosity beyond the Catholic/Christian box, the need for open-minded, non-judgmental conversations with people who thought differently—it was still there.
This conversation about what’s “right” vs. “wrong,” who’s got the answers, and whether I can trust the innate, God-given wisdom of the Holy Spirit? It’s so much more complicated than the black-and-white narratives we’re taught. So nuanced. So personal. And I’m still figuring it out.
I’m a Christian, but I’m also someone who believes deeply in causes the Church has spoken out against. I also practice things that some Christians say are “demonic.” (Cue the quadruple eye roll and full Virgo “you’re joking” stare). I also still go to church, and LOVE my pastor and LOVE my church community.
Here’s what I’ve come to (though I’m sure it will shift as I grow and learn more about my faith):
It’s okay to ask questions. In fact, it means you care and want answers! The hardest questions are often the most crucial to our personal faith journeys.
Intention is everything. The rituals that some have called heretical or even demonic? They’re tools from the Earth—gifts God gave us to live lives full of abundance, joy, and connection.
Fear is a tool of control. The fear we’ve been taught around certain people, practices, and beliefs often comes from places of control, not from wanting us to live closer to God.
Having tough conversations is essential. Shutting down someone who disagrees with your faith or practice will only stunt your (or their) growth. Let’s embrace the discomfort of dialogue—it’s through challenge and openness that we evolve spiritually.
God is bigger. Much bigger than we can ever comprehend. We try to put God in a box because it’s easier for our minds to grasp. But when we open ourselves to all the ways God can show up in our lives, that’s where the magic begins. That’s where true relationship with the divine starts to unfold.
I’m so glad I shared this with you. This is just the beginning of a wild, beautiful, and deeply personal journey—one that I’m still on. Thank you for taking a piece of my story with you. I hope it speaks to you in some way. ✨
