Why? Why does this have to be so hard? Why does telling people about my religious views seem tantamount to walking out in the nude? Why is it that when I say “I don’t go to church,” I feel like I’m coming out of the closet all over again (yes, I mean it when I say “all over again”)? This essay might be the first time I have ever declared my religious beliefs without being asked, and yet I am still branded as one of those pushy know-it-alls. What is it about my beliefs that set people so on edge?

Could it be where I live? I have grown up in Friendswood, Texas, a Texas town founded by Quakers. Upon observing the town’s recent history, the tradition of equality and tolerance set forth by the Quakers is still alive and well. I will never forget the day in 8th Grade, when our principal invited a Muslim support group to the school to talk about their beliefs and clarify any misconceptions. This was just after a 7th grade Muslim boy was found in the dumpster after being hazed by his fellow classmates. I was one of few who listened interestedly as they talked about their customs and traditions, and also dished out a few words of mild, but well-deserved, self-defense. Two weeks after school let out for the summer, I got a letter in the mail. It took me a few reads before I finally understood what the letter was saying. The speech had not had the intended effect. Parents had been accusing the support group of “indoctrinating” their children into a false faith. The school board had been flooded with angry phone calls, the superintendent had been offered very few choices, and the principal had been fired. The letter itself was from the superintendent, essentially pointing her finger at everyone else involved in the mess. She managed to keep her job. Unfortunately, my principal, who had attempted to open our eyes to the diversity of the world, was not as lucky. The day I received that letter was the day I suddenly realized the gravity of my own lifestyle. I had been an atheist since the age of eleven. Would society really treat me this way…forever?

Thus far, it hasn’t been easy. I’ve had many a close friend tell me to burn in hell. I’ve had people gawp at me for even mentioning the word “atheist,” as though I had just spoken the most offensive curse word imaginable. And don’t even mention the adults. Granted, they are a little more subtle about it, and yet it is often more painful to watch them disguise their contempt in a nod of pretended understanding. And apparently I’m not the only one feeling the pressure of a predominantly Christian society.

According to a poll from Newsweek, more than half of registered voters find atheism an “unfavorable” trait in voting for a representative. Many responders associated atheism with crime, immoral behavior, and materialism. Roughly 48% would never allow their children to marry a known atheist. Why? My simple question to you, the reader, is…why? Why can we not simply get along? My contemplations of the universe are different from yours. We’ve figured that much out. We can sit and argue all we want over who has it right. Then you will go your way and I will go mine, both of us believing with a fervor stronger than ever that we are the right one. Or we could just not care. Hell, we could spend the rest of our lives as friends without ever talking about religion. With the way the world is, the last thing we need is something else to fight over. We need peace, and love, and friendship. It is up to us not to sacrifice that.

Oh, and one more thing…please note that not once in this essay have I tried to convince you that God does not exist.