Image by ஐ★ღ§wêê†Båbίί®åєღ★ஐ via FlickrI grew up as a Catholic in a Hispanic family, my mom was seriously into the church while my father just followed her along. As I grew up, I had questions about the bible, god, I didn't understand the trinity, why Jesus had to die and this sin that was committed years and years ago by two people…why was it my fault? There were never any answers or usually my mom would say, “You can’t read the bible because you don’t understand and you’re not close to god like a priest is, ask him and let him guide you.” (what?!) I did my first communion, my first confirmation, all of the catholic crap (sorry I believe that's what it is) I had to go through. I had crosses of every shape, color and different metals. I proudly fixed it on my chain and made sure it showed in all my pictures or when I went out, after all, I wanted everyone to know that “I believed”.
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