As it’s Easter Sunday, I was thinking about religion and how I’d completely forgotten the purpose of this bank holiday weekend. Instead of thinking about the resurrection of Christ, I couldn’t wait to have an extra 2 days off work. I don’t want to open a can of worms by talking about religion: I’m a firm believer in keeping my mouth shut if I’m not well informed enough on the subject, and commenting on religion tends to be a tricky topic to tackle. I write frivolous posts about failed relationships and perfecting the perfect tweet, so I’m not about to comment on how prevalent religion is in a time where people read their twitter timeline more than the bible.
It has, however made me reminisce about a past relationship with someone who was a devout Christian. Our fling only lasted for a few weeks, but at the time I couldn’t believe someone so intelligent and accomplished would want to date me. He was sweet, thoughtful and when he broke things off, I was devastated. One of the main reasons for this was his religion: he couldn’t see himself with someone who didn’t believe in God, he planned to marry a Christian like himself and didn’t think I could ever understand why it was so important to him.
I have to say he was right. At the time all I saw were my feelings for him and how happy he made me. I was a naïve, selfish, romanticist: but that isn’t practical. I’ve ended relationships with men because they were dull and lacked ambition, for me those are characteristics that a potential partner has to have, for him a belief in God was the deal breaker.
Years later and he’s married to the kind of woman he always planned to spend his life with, and I couldn’t be happier for him. As an atheist, I might not be able to fully appreciate the importance of Easter, but looking back has given me a new found respect and understanding for how our beliefs can shape the trajectory of our lives.