You Hate Me, But I Love You
I believe that we all have a story to tell, some with more stories than others.
My story is one that involves suicide, mental illness, and most importantly, my faith.
But one aspect of my story that’s been an important part of my life, is something that I’ve always been ashamed of up until recently.
It was the main reason why I wanted to commit suicide for so long, believing that I was of no value in this world.
The church, religion, and Christianity taught me to hate myself.
To develop a darkness deep within me that for so long told me I was going to burn in hell for the rest of eternity no matter what I did, or how hard I prayed for this part of me to go away.
And so I hid.
I disappeared deep within myself and took up a false identity of what the church taught me was right.
What was deemed as worthy in the eyes of those who claimed to be the most self-righteous and were accepted by God, “followers of Jesus.”
See, when you’re only a child, completely surrounded by a “community” telling you one thing, you start to believe it.
You start to convince yourself that if the only people you look up to and trust are telling you to hate you, and that that is love, then you believe it.
Even if it spawns a demon so sadistic, deep within your soul, that eats and tears away at any light or love that was originally inside of you from the moment you were first born, so innocent, so naive, you believe it.
You believe this lie because it was all you were taught.
You were taught that this was love.
How sad is it that so many children in this world are being raised in the same manner, not only by parents but also by religious institutions that are based and centered on something not even remotely close to love? Not to mention the children and lives we have already lost to suicide or mass genocide for the way they were born. Whether it be for the color of their skin, the ethnic background they did not choose, or simply who they love.
They say they worship a God that loves all, but so easily condemn and judge those who may be the slightest bit different from the box that they so perfectly fit into.
A box that religion and the self-righteous claim to be the “only way into heaven.”
And if you don’t fit into it, you are looked at as less than and met with hate.
Hate.
It’s a pretty self-explanatory word, but the longer we look at it, the more subtle it has become over time, as we have allowed it to fester and grow in the shadows of the place we gather to worship a God that claims to love us all but calls us to hate those who are different.
It shows up in the most unlikely of places, and I can say from first-hand experience, it can enter your heart like a murderer in the night.
See, nobody is born evil.
Nobody is born with the desire to hate and hurt others.
They are taught this. They are preached this. They are conditioned to believe that to sit in a place of judgment toward others, a place of hate toward those who do not look like us, is a place of acceptance and righteousness.
It is a place of self-proclaimed glory to a God who only accepts those whom they deem worthy.
We have allowed a religious empire to take full control of our hearts and in the midst of it, lurking in the shadows remains a cancer. A sickness that feeds on the darkness we all have in our hearts.
A darkness that begs for our attention.
To be fed, cared for, and nurtured.
See, we are all products of our environments.
We are what we allow into our minds, our hearts, and our souls.
But as a child cannot survive without parents or guardians, what does a child do, when they are only fed and given hate at such a young age?
What is a child supposed to do when they have nowhere to turn to when they are deeply in need of love?
What is a child supposed to do when they’re told that they are simply an abomination who God hates, and will damn to hell for all of eternity once they die.
A child with no hope to be accepted or loved develops a hatred.
A deep hatred for themself, as they have only been met with the same thing their entire life.
And with this hate, comes a sword that will hang over their heads for the rest of their lives, however long they can endure it.
A child that now loses any and all hope for this thing that the ones we look up to call “life.”
A life that is supposed to be celebrated and appreciated.
To worship a God that has given us so much.
A God that allowed me to be born with the attraction to both men and women.
A God that the church says hates me and anybody who may not look like the white, straight, evangelical pastors on those stages, telling us to repent of our sins.
But what do you do when you’re told that a part of you that makes you you, is the part that everybody hates? A part that you should hate.
I think that’s why we have lost so many people in the shadows of this world, more specifically people who have walked away from the church altogether, like myself.
People who were raised by parents that worship a God that hates them and their child.
Such an overwhelming darkness that can consume so many innocent lives, before they’re even given the chance to see that this world does love them, even if their “communities” cannot.
I write this story not because of the hate I had in my heart so recently, but because of the love that my Father has for me, and every single one of us on this planet.
A love that has been lost and forgotten by the majority of religious institutions.
I have nothing against the church, religion, or Christianity.
But the darkness that has pervasively inhabited the hearts of those who condemn people like me?
I denounce it. I highlight it. I call it out. I attack it.
I will not stand by as this same darkness that was in my heart not so long ago, ravages and consumes lives day by day, unchecked and unchallenged.
It kills, and it starts out so virtuous, claiming to be love. Each small tempt here and there, pushing us to allow it a little bit more space to grow inside of us, while we have no idea what it really is.
Simply because we were taught that this is the way into the kingdom of acceptance.
I was driving down to Texas about a month ago, passing through the mountains in Northern California, flipping through patchy radio stations in the local area, when a voice took over the speakers throughout my car.
It was bold and strong, as the tone brought back vague memories of the days when I was a little boy, always so curious and inspired by those that I looked up to.
Funny how those same people turned out to be the main reason why I wanted to die for so long shortly after my younger years in the church.
She was ranting on about how these most recent unprecedented times we’ve been experiencing are those that she believes suggest the end of times are very near.
Now for those of you who weren’t raised with a religious background, it was very common for church leaders or elders to prophesize visions or messages from God. In this case, she believed he was revealing to her that the very dark and daunting last days were currently in full force in our lives.
She went on through about seven topics (10 total), the seventh being that the record-breaking global natural disasters were just the beginning of the apocalypse.
And then she brought up an event that took place where Joe Biden was recalling a story of when he was a young boy eating ice cream with his father, and they saw two men walk out and kiss each other. He asked his father why they did that, and his father replied “because they love each other.” Joe then goes on about how he was taught at such a young age that love is love, and that was it.
As she was ending the story, my heart rate began to quicken, as I felt something I knew was about to happen. Call it intuition or PTSD, but she then said in such a definitive tone of absolute assurance, that this was a complete abhorrence.
It’s always amazed me how much hurt and hate can be spread from one individual to another, with not so much the words they use, but the belief and absolute confidence that that person they are looking down on is equivalent to anything less than a human being.
The raw, detestable, and sometimes very subtle, hatred for another individual.
This woman made me feel how I felt most of my life growing up.
I was brought back to the hate and darkness that spawned demons in my mind who attempted to kill me time and time over.
Sitting in my driver’s seat, as the sun rays broke through my windshield obscuring the blue-sky vastness behind the Northern Coast Range mountains, I felt the hatred enter my peace that I had worked so hard to create over the last several years.
It invaded once more, and I had to switch the channel as I broke down and overwhelming emotions took over.
I felt the urge to ruthlessly confront and stand against this hate because this feeling was only a sliver of the daily onslaught some children I know are having to survive, due to the book that taught us to hate ourselves so early on.
See, I no longer have hatred toward the hate that so often suggests I am the reason for their hate.
Rather, I have love for those that hate me, just as Jesus had for those that crucified him for merely living a life that was the truest form of self-sacrificial love.
Whatever you believe in, one thing that we can agree on is that hate will never triumph over hate.
Sure, it can be used as a weapon against it, but it will never put that fire out, as only love can do.
My life has been one that was centered on hatred for the majority of it, mostly hate for myself, because that was all I knew.
Now?
As much work as it has taken, I welcome the hate, because I know that what I stand for, will always remain true and honest, and will never hurt those who want to hurt me.
Because at the end of the day, love, in its truest form, will always outlast and outburn the fire of absolute hatred. This truth is one that takes perseverance, bravery, but most importantly, love.
So to those who hate me and all of the ones who may look different for whatever reason, I hope you can one day find the love that you have been missing your entire lives.
The love that has changed this world, and continues to do so, without the cost of our souls.
I no longer walk with religion or Christianity, but rather with my true father who has stood next to me through each battle and onslaught and continues to lead me wherever I must go.
Love, light, and peace will be the warm fire that I will choose to embody for the rest of this life, however long that may be.
As always, if you enjoyed this article, please leave a few claps and share it with those who you think could benefit from it.
-Cody
