Dismantling Christian Gaslighting: My Atheism Isn’t a “Phase”  

Oh, the sheer breathtaking arrogance of it. If I had a dollar every time a Christian told me my atheism is just a “phase” fueled by “hurt,” I could probably buy the Vatican, paper it over with actual evidence, and turn it into a research center for verifiable facts. Instead, they recycle the same tired line like it’s a philosophical masterstroke: “You’re just angry at God because you’ve been hurt.” Picture this: a pity face, a clenched jaw, and the existential equivalent of a sock puppet delivering a eulogy for my faith. But here’s the kicker—I’m not here to discuss my feelings. I’m here to dismantle the idea that your religion should come with a side of therapy.

The Double Standard of Existence: Why My Mother’s Nasty Breakup Woes Don’t Wipe Out Her DNA

The only reason we don’t question the existence of real, tangible things is because we have evidence. Let’s talk about the real hurt in my life. Spoiler: it involves family, not deities. I’ve been deeply, structurally, and repeatedly hurt by my parents—people who, by the way, have photographs, DNA, headstones, and a social security number to prove they were here.

Ever look at a picture of your mom and think, “This woman is a hallucination caused by bad coffee”? I have not. Actually, I hate coffee. Point being: emotional trauma does not negate objective reality. If I told someone, “I don’t believe my father once existed because he was a misogynistic jerk,” they’d rightly call me nuts. But when I say, “I don’t believe in God because there’s zero evidence,” suddenly I’m the one who “needs healing.” The double standard is so vast you could build the Sistine Chapel in it.

The Three-Step Atheist Syllogism You Can’t Argue With (Unless You’re Using a Bible, Then No)

Let’s break this down like a podcast host who’s seen it all (and blocked 567 commenters for spiritual gaslighting).

Premise One: Belief in something should be proportional to the evidence.

Premise Two: There is zero verifiable, empirical proof for a Christian God. (The Bible is a claim, not evidence. Like a claim that unicorns cure migraines. Still not proof.)

Conclusion: Therefore, disbelief is not only reasonable—it’s the only logical response to a lack of evidence.

Your suggestion that my atheism is a coping mechanism for past pain is not just wrong; it’s cosmic gaslighting. It’s like saying, “You don’t believe in Donald Trump because he stole our democracy and ruined America. If you just forgave him, you’d realize he’s still a trustworthy guy.” No, I don’t believe in his integrity because of verifiable evidence of his crimes. The emotion comes later.

Painfully Obvious: I’m Hurt by Christianity, Not the Flying Spaghetti Monster

Let’s address the real pain—Christianity, as a system, is a real, tangible entity. We’ve got churches, creeds, and crusaders. We’ve got purity rings, gaslighting tracts, and pastors who mistake “agape love” for the ability to ignore pedophilia scandals. These things exist. They have caused real harm: misogyny, bigotry, and financial exploitation.

But here’s the joke: I was hurt by Christianity, not by God. It’s like being hit by a garbage truck and someone telling me I’m angry at the concept of speed limits instead of the actual truck that maimed me. Christianity exists—look up the history. God? Still waiting on a birth certificate, a DNA test, or even a TikTok video confirming his presence.

The next time a Christian tells me I’m “just hurt,” I’ll gently reply, “I’m hurt by the people and systems I can see, like the ones who’ve weaponized my trauma to sell forgiveness for $99/month. But my disbelief in something that lacks evidence? That’s not a wound—it’s the scientific method’s way of saying, ‘You need to up your game, missy.’”

The Pro-Science, Anti-Therapy Takeaway: Dismissing Evidence Is the Ultimate Spiritual Drama

The heart of this argument is projection wrapped in piety. Christians fear that if they acknowledge there’s no evidence for their god, they’d have to admit their faith is a leap into the metaphysical abyss. So they pathologize us. Turn intellectual honesty into a diagnosis. It’s like saying, “You’re broke because you’re angry at the concept of gravity—it’s not the asteroid you got hit by.”

Here’s the truth: I’m not “angry at God.” I’m angry at the manipulation, the bad logic, and the lack of proof. I’m also slightly annoyed that people insist on mistaking a lack of belief for a lack of critical thinking. And hey, if finding joy in skepticism is a sin, I’ll be the devil’s favorite podcast listener.

Conclusion & Call to Action: Keep the Church Small, Keep the Laughter Bigger

To my fellow secular thinkers: don’t let anyone tell you your disbelief is a symptom. It’s a verdict. A carefully reasoned, evidence-based conclusion that you might want to take a closer look at.

And to the well-meaning (or not-so-meaning) Christians reading this: keep doing your thing. We’ll keep ours. If you insist on offering “spiritual diagnoses,” maybe start with a clipboard. Or better yet, stop projecting your fear of evidence onto us.

If you enjoyed this deep dive into the intersection of trauma, logic, and why the Vatican needs a fact-checker, subscribe to Secular Strike Back’s newsletter and YouTube channel, where I’m Toothless Grin Kim, your host for all things atheists, anti-gaslighting, and evidence-based rage. Share this post, and if you’re feeling spicy, tag that relative who still thinks your skepticism is just a “phase.” Trust me—they’ll appreciate the therapy budget redirected toward actual science.

Opinions are mine. DNA evidence is stronger than your hermeneutics. Stay rational.