Some Thoughts on Converting to Paganism

In my last post about my personal history, I discussed my transition from Christianity to Paganism and, in particular, to Wicca. I may have made it sound very smooth but that wasn't the case at all.

I told my mum at first and, though she wasn't against it, she was cautious. She was worried about dangerous cults and shady characters. Her worries were valid but I've always been slow to warm up to people and I rarely go to a new group by myself for safety reasons.

My father on the other hand... well, let's just say that I didn't outright tell him about my conversion for a couple years. He's gone from abrasively angry about it to thinking it's just a phase. I've decided to be optimistic and call that progress! The rest of my family (except for my strict Catholic grandparents who are still in the dark about it) slowly found out. I never made any attempts to get everyone together and make a public announcement out of it. I know some authors suggest that. The Arch Druid of ADF suggests taking the opportunity to say grace at a family dinner as a way to break the religious ice. If that approach works for some that's wonderful but that isn't really my style to begin with and my family would not have taken it well that suddenly. Instead I let them observe some of my interest in Paganism little by little. I would occasionally discuss history, mythology, and unspecified spiritual experiences with nature. I openly delighted at the full moon and vehomently defended religious minorities when they came up unfavorably in discussion. Quite simply, I mindfully went out acting as normally as possible as if people already knew I was Pagan. Eventually family members put two and two together or it just came out casually in polite discussion.

At first my conversion was more cerebral. There were a couple weeks where I didn't practice very much aside from the reading I was doing. As a Catholic I had prayed my own prayer to Jesus and God every night. There was a night I realized that I had to make a transition and it was, quite honestly, frighetning. It was a moment of truth, I suppose. I grew up hearing about how there was "only one God" and how angry he could become in some situations. I had once gotten into a horrible argument with a very dear friend about the Book of Revelations. She was going through a strict Baptist phase and was trying to convince me that anyone who isn't a Christian is going to be punished. To me that always has seemed like a terrible concept. Why would anyone find comfort in that, especially when you consider all of the innocent non-Christian people?

In the dark of one's bedroom on the cusp of a major theological transition, those thoughts somehow become more frightening. And when I decided to replace "God and Jesus" with "God and Goddess" or "Lord and Lady" (I can't remember my choice very well...) I felt my body tingle and realized that I had just crossed into a new mindset. It was a wonderful thing. I might even call it a triumph against "Christian fear."