Curiosity has been a game-changer for me, even though it scares the hell out of me sometimes. I used to live in this bubble of certainty—my religion handed me all the answers, and I held on tight because that’s what made everything feel safe. But now, as I’m deep into this healing journey, I’m realizing that all that certainty was just a way to keep myself in check, to avoid the messiness of life. It was like living in a neat little box, but that box was also my prison.

When I finally started letting curiosity in, it was like opening a door I never knew existed. Suddenly, everything I thought I knew could blow away with the wind, and that’s terrifying. But it’s also exhilarating because it’s opening up parts of me that are demanding to be seen. I’ve started questioning everything, including the very foundation of my faith, and that’s where things get really dark.

You see, the church I grew up in—and still attend, though with a lot more skepticism—was built on some pretty shaky ground. The founder, the guy who created this whole legacy, did things that make my skin crawl now that I’m really looking at them. The lying, the cheating, the way he twisted things to make his behavior okay—it’s all way too familiar. It reminds me so much of the betrayal I’ve lived through, and that’s a tough pill to swallow.

How do I reconcile the fact that the religion that shaped so much of who I am was built on a foundation that feels eerily similar to the dynamics of betrayal? It’s disturbing, and it forces me to confront a lot of uncomfortable truths. But instead of running from it, I’m leaning into it with curiosity. I’m asking myself why I didn’t see this before. How did my upbringing and conditioning make me accept these narratives without question? And now that I see it, what do I do with this information? And how vocal do I become about this while I'm still navigating what this all means for me?

Curiosity is pushing me to face these dark corners of my past and my beliefs. It’s not about tearing everything down—although, some days, it feels like that’s what’s happening—but it’s more about understanding. I’m trying to make sense of where I come from and how it’s shaped me, even when what I find is hard to accept.

And you know what? This process has been helping me let go of so much judgment—of myself, of others, of the world around me. For so long, I was caught up in trying to fit into this perfect mold, living up to this ideal that was never really mine to begin with. But curiosity doesn’t work like that. It’s more like, “What if?” instead of “What does someone else say God wants and expects from me?" It’s opened me up to exploring rather than condemning, and that’s been a huge shift for me.

It’s changed the way I show up in my life. I’m more patient, more open, and I’m learning that it’s okay not to have all the answers. I actually don't want the answers anymore, I just want to experience life. I don’t need to fit into any mold, and I don’t have to cling to beliefs that don’t serve me anymore. I can just let go, be curious, and experience life in a way that feels true to who I am now, not who I was supposed to be.

But let’s be real—it’s not all sunshine and roses. There are times when the darkness feels overwhelming, when the weight of these uncomfortable truths feels like too much. It’s like, how do you deal with realizing that the foundation of your faith, your entire worldview, is built on something that feels so wrong? But even in those moments, curiosity is there, nudging me to keep going, to keep asking questions, to keep exploring.

I don’t know where this is all going to lead me, but I do know that I’m on a path that feels right, even if it’s terrifying. It’s leading me to a deeper understanding of myself, my spirituality, and the world around me. And that’s worth everything, even if it means letting go of the certainty that used to feel so comfortable.