Growing up in a traditional Methodist church, I am no stranger to the "traditional Christian way." If you looked around the sanctuary on any given Sunday, you'd see countless old couples who would tell you that they'd gone to the same church since they were little. As a child, I always envisioned myself turning into one of those people. I thought I would attend all throughout my childhood, come back after college, get married there and then never leave. As a little girl, it seemed like a simple plan - however, the older I got, I realized that it simply was not realistic.
Through no fault of it's own, my church became less and less appealing as I got older. I stopped wanting to go to church for the sermons and only wanted to attend for the people there. We had no youth group and hardly any kids that weren't 5 or younger; I always felt either too young or too old for everything. All of my friends went to different churches and would always tell me how much fun they had and how much they loved it. It was hard to not have a fear of missing out.
As mentioned in previous posts, I also felt so incredibly bored during the sermons. While everyone else wanted to sing traditional hymns from the United Methodist Hymnal, I was more interesting in groups such as Casting Crowns and Lauren Daigle. It was small things like that that made me feel isolated within the church.
Although music was definitely a big factor for me, I realized that there were also morals of the United Methodist Church as a whole that I did not agree with. For example, the United Methodist Church as a denomination decided that it would not accept or support marriage within the LGBTQ+ community. Although my specific church decided they would still allow it, it simply did not sit right with me - I grew up hearing that Christians were called to love and accept everyone, and that decision did not line up with those views.
Admitting that the Methodist church was no longer the place for me was one of the most difficult decisions that I've had to make. When I was there, I felt like I was home. Some of my earliest memories were within those church walls. However, I knew that the longer I waited, the more difficult it would be to leave. After talking it through with my mom, we both agreed that we could no longer support the Methodist church, and that it was time for us to start looking for a new one.
To this day, we have not been successful in finding a church that truly feels like home. However, the experience has shown me that sometimes, you have to do what is best for you and what lines up with your morals, regardless of how bad leaving can hurt.