This post is by far the most vulnerable, open, and difficult post I’ve ever written. It’s taken me several days to actually write everything out, and a lifetime to reach the point of being brave enough to share it. My hope is that you will read it from a place of love and acceptance, rather than from a place of judgment and disappointment. While this post is written for my own freedom, I know others out there who have struggled with their own faith and religious identity who need to hear it and need to know that they are not alone.

It’s nearly 10 pm on a Saturday night. I’m sitting outside at a Whole Foods drinking kombucha and distracting myself every which way to not write this post. One of my coaches encouraged me to just write. Don’t try to make it perfect. Don’t erase things that I’m afraid people will question or that I’m afraid to say.

Just write.

The truth is, I am a perfectionist when it comes to writing. When I write a blog post whether for me or for someone else, a podcast script or any other type of writing, I review every sentence as I go. Rather than just writing. This process takes longer, because I am fixing before I have even finished. Is this wrong? Perhaps not. I don’t think there really is a right or wrong process; it is up to the writer to determine what is best. But I recognize this approach can trap me or hold me back from just writing what I really want to say.

You may be asking, “Well, don’t you already write what you want to say, Robin?”

That’s a valid question. While on one hand I may look confident and fearless on social media (and even in person), on the inside I shrink down and hold back from fully expressing myself. I have things I want to say and yet hold back because others may not agree, approve, or like me. I’m afraid others may judge me or fire back at me and tell me I’m wrong.

And to that you might say, “Who cares? Be you!”

And while that may be easy for you, for me, it’s a real concern and fear. For most of my life, I’ve learned to suppress my words and say the “right thing” so that I’m not causing friction, and it’s exhausting. It’s exhausting to be one way for some and another way for others; to mold myself to fit others’ approval out of fear of being judged. I don’t believe that we always must share what’s on our mind or our opinions on everything, but if it’s something that is compromising who you are as an individual, why hold back?

So that is what this post is for me. It’s me expressing who I am so I’m honoring my own integrity with a full, open heart. It’s me allowing myself the freedom to fully be myself and no longer compromise who I am just to appease others.

If you’re completely confused or have no idea what I’m talking about, read on. Like I mentioned in the beginning, this is not an organized or perfectly written post. So bear with me as I digest my thoughts in whatever way they unfold.

What is one of your biggest fears?

I recently posted this question on Facebook asking people to share what they fear. I received responses ranging from harm coming to their children; not being good enough; getting cancer; dying penniless; death; failing at work or in life; paralysis; getting to the end of life and feeling like they missed out on what life has to offer. I was blown away by the amount of responses I received. And how different they all were. Yet even with the differences, they still carry a level of fear around something going wrong or happening outside of their control.

I responded to each comment with validation—acknowledging their fear and letting them know that I hear them and see them.

Fear is good for keeping us safe from physical harm. Without fear, we could be in real danger. But fear also blocks us from being ourselves, taking chances, speaking up, traveling, trying new experiences, and so on.

For me, my fears are around being rejected, abandoned, not liked, and being seen as a disappointment.

I have been a people-pleaser and conformist most of my life. We all have defining moments from our childhood whether we realize it or not. Something happens and we make an unconscious decision about always or never doing ‘x’ again. Without realizing it, we can live a whole lifetime based on a decision a child made.

When I was 7, I was playing with my dad’s chalk tape that he used for marking lines on sheet rock. I broke it and then hid it. I was afraid to tell the truth. I thought I could get away with it, until my dad found it. He asked who broke it. And I don’t quite remember if I confessed or if he found out some other way, but I got in big trouble.

From that moment on, I made an unconscious decision that I would always be on my best behavior. I’d rather be “good” than risk getting in trouble again.

And for the most part, I was. I was teacher’s pet—all my teacher’s loved me. I made sure my parents praised me for cleaning my space, staying organized, getting up on time, etc. I made sure I did and said the right things so people would like me.

I had no idea the impact this one decision (made by a 7-year-old) would have on my life.

To add to this, I grew up in a very conservative church. Everything appeared to me as black and white, right or wrong, good or evil. I remember hearing the term “Fear God” as a young child and thinking that if I messed up or sinned, lightning would strike down from the sky and hit me. As I grew older and understood more of who God is, I learned that fearing God was not like that. But as a young child, that’s exactly what I thought. This perspective created a lot of shame and guilt. I remember being afraid of sex, dating, drinking alcohol, cursing, not going to church 3x a week—that if I missed, I was in the wrong. If I went to a friend’s church that played instruments, they and myself were going to hell. Dancing was wrong. Homosexuality was wrong. It was a lot more wrong than right.

I remember meeting friends in high school and college and hearing them talk about “hearing God” or being “called” by God to follow a certain path. I never had that experience. I would pray, read my Bible, and learn about the characteristics of God but I never felt the connection like others felt.

But I was a “good” Christian, and would go to church, bible studies, take notes from the sermon—check all the dots.

It wasn’t until I began traveling internationally that I began to see another side to what it means to be a Christian and spiritual being.

I went to a Christian college and was exposed to other people in my group being from different religious backgrounds. I learned a lot from these friends, and I learned a lot from visiting various churches in Europe. It was my first experience of thinking, “There’s no way this person is going to Hell. They love Jesus and build their life around serving and honoring him.”

It was my first time thinking, “maybe the way I’ve been taught is not the only way.”

When I got back from studying abroad, I continued going to the church I had been going to prior to leaving. I had found some lifelong friends there and continued going because of them—and because I was afraid to step outside of the box. I enjoyed the preacher at the time. He was very philosophical, intellectual, and challenged a lot of beliefs I had learned when I was a kid. Yet, I never really felt at home there. I felt at home with the church community and my friends, but not with the denomination itself. But I didn’t see there being another way. I was a “good girl” and it wasn’t my job to stir the pot or question anything.

It wasn’t until I moved to Dallas in 2011 that I began to take a step back and consider other churches and denominations. I found a great non-denominational church and home group. Yet, when I would go back to Tennessee to visit, I wouldn’t tell people where I was going. I was afraid that they would find out and judge me or tell me that I was wrong by going somewhere with instruments and women having leadership roles. So I hid this side of my life and tried to avoid any topic around church or religion.

In 2016, I went on my very first mini meditation retreat. It was the first time I was exposed to a meditation practice. I was amazed at how connected I was to my body and my mind. And I was amazed at the clarity I gained through it. It was also around the time that I began a more regular yoga practice. Through yoga I learned to tune into my body and tune out the thoughts in my head. I received more clarity and found my spiritual connection to God increasing.

I took these meditation skills into nature and learned to be present to creation and the beauty around me. It opened me up to signs, wonders, and miracles that I otherwise may not have seen.

I was discovering a spiritual side to life that I had never experienced before. For the first time in my life, I was beginning to understand how someone could say that they “felt” God or how they were called to a certain purpose in life.

It took shedding my old religious ways to learn to embrace this deeper spiritual connection. Yet even with shedding my old religious ways, I’ve still felt trapped and afraid to say something.

No matter what the denomination or religion, many groups feel that what they believe is the “right” way and often the “only” way. Who am I to say that someone else is wrong for believing what they believe or don’t believe? Or say that just because I grew up Christian and was born in the United States, I’ll be saved and others won’t unless they convert? Each religion has its own conviction and belief. I do believe that the Bible is inspired, and I also know that there are so many translations and interpretations out there. And lots of debate over which translation is most accurate. But it still comes down to me believing one way, and someone else believing another. Even typing this, I am wanting to erase it because I am afraid of all of the comments I’ll get questioning this view. And that’s okay. You don’t have to agree with me.

In 2018, I took the plunge and quit my corporate job to follow my dream of traveling the world. When I left to go to Thailand, I had such a sense of freedom come over me. Aside from studying abroad for 3 months in 2004, I had never lived outside of the “Bible Belt” (aka southern U.S.). It was the first time in my life that I felt free to explore my faith and spirituality, and discover what it is that I believe. With this freedom also came suffering. After being in Thailand for a week or so, I became extremely sick. I was in bed for nearly 2 weeks. I allowed my body to purge whatever it needed to and heal itself. I learned the true meaning of what it is to surrender and let go of control. I believed that the illness happened so I could heal from the trenches of old beliefs, hardships, and old ways of thinking. I learned through this experience that we often store pain and trauma in our bodies, and until we make a conscious effort to heal ourselves internally, we may continue to be sick or in pain. If you think this theory is totally absurd, read Louise Hay’s book Heal Your Body or check out my friend Brook’s site Emotional Body Mapping.

When I returned to the states after nearly 2 months abroad, I reverted back to my old fears. My 7-year-old “good girl” self took over. I was afraid of being judged for how I was choosing to connect with God and for not attending church wherever I went. So again, I distracted myself and stayed extremely busy so others wouldn’t question my lifestyle. Because, honestly, at this point, I was still on my own spiritual journey and taking time to question, dissect things, and discover more of what it is that I believe—not what others told me I should believe.

It's been a journey since then, and I still find myself living dual lives. When I’m traveling or with people who I believe accept me, I’m more of myself. When I’m around people who I fear are judging me or don’t approve of how I’m living, I hold back and suppress certain parts of me. I be the person I think they want me to be. This is not authentic. Neither role I’m playing is. I will never be who people want me to be or who they think I should be. I can only be me. I’ve held back out of fear of losing friends and out of fear of being a disappointment to my family. While that could happen, the bigger loss is being a disappointment to myself. And I can’t risk that anymore.

I acknowledge all of you who have reached out to me over the past couple of years questioning what I believe and how I’m living my life. Asking me if Christians can do yoga and how I believe yoga transforms my soul; wondering why I don’t mention God more in my blog and in my social media posts; being offended that I’ve said the f word in podcasts and worried about what others and God will think of me; telling me I’m not marriage material; being concerned for me doing meditation and being too focused on my inner self; instructing me that as long as I stay on the straight and narrow path, I’ll live a beautiful life, and if I don’t, destruction will come. For sharing your concerns about how I dress in photoshoots and your fear that men want to do harm to me.

I know it is not easy to see me as someone other than who you thought me to be. I understand that by me coming out from religion and unveiling all of this, it may challenge you to consider other thoughts, and you didn’t ask for that. I understand you may not agree with anything that I’ve written and may be concerned for my soul. I am not trying to hurt you, disappoint you, or tell you that you are wrong. We are born with free will and have the right to believe what we wish to believe and have the freedom to be vulnerable and share what’s there for us (speaking for the U.S.).

I also acknowledge those of you who read this and think, “What’s the big deal? Why do you care so much about what others think or if they accept you or not?” I understand that you may not understand where I am coming from, and that’s okay. I understand that you may have ill-will towards the church and religion, and if you have been ostracized, I am sorry that happened to you. Like the hate that is seen in this world, fixed beliefs and excluding groups of people from the church, is a very small percentage and does not embody all Christians, Muslims, Jews, Hindu, etc. I believe there is more love in this world than we often give credit for.

I love and honor all of you.

As for me and my journey:

I love and accept myself for the woman I am.

I honor all the ways I challenge my thinking, consider others’ beliefs and views, and love others because of our differences.

I own all the lessons I have learned in life and believe there are no mistakes; only moments that continue to make me stronger and lead me to my highest self.

I am grateful for the foundations I received through my upbringing and for my parents giving me the freedom to be my own person.

I love, honor, and cherish my family, friends, and relationships close to my heart.

I wish to be a role model for my nieces and nephews and show them that they can be who they want to be in this world.

I find beauty in my brokenness and the brokenness of humanity.

I am grateful to have the freedom to express my thoughts and beliefs. I realize that many religions and cultures do not have this luxury.

I hold true to my faith in God and all the ways that expand my own spiritual growth.

I believe that Love is the greatest command, and we could all stand to embody it more and extend more of it to others all over the world no matter what religion, background, race, ethnicity, sexual orientation, or gender identity they are.

I share all of this so that I can fully be myself and not hold back any longer, and so I can set my little 7-year-old self free. And while my fear around how this will be received is great, freeing myself from the constraints I’ve placed upon myself is greater. I imagine a world where we all feel brave enough to share our true selves, and that when shared, others will validate it and receive it with love and acceptance.

From my open heart to yours,