I recently had someone say to me, “I know you don’t believe in God,” and I immediately corrected them: “I’ve NEVER said that.” What I have said, time and time again, is that I am not religious. I don’t subscribe to any particular religion. That doesn’t mean I reject the idea of a higher power; it simply means I don’t follow religious doctrine, rituals, or institutions.

I support all religions because I believe that whatever brings a person peace, joy, and comfort should be honored and respected. If your faith brings you solace and guidance, I fully support that—for you. What I find distasteful is when people use religion as a tool to judge, condemn, hurt, or infringe on the rights of others. And what I find frustrating is the endless battle of the Gods: “My God is better than your God,” or “There’s only one God, and it’s mine.” That kind of thinking doesn’t foster love or connection—it fosters division.

I don’t believe in religious dogma—the strict rules about how, when, and what to say during prayers or the elevation of religious leaders to near-saintly status. Instead, I believe in karma, not in the oversimplified, pop-culture sense of “instant payback,” but in the deeper understanding that the energy you put into the world—through your thoughts, intentions, and actions—returns to you in one form or another.

As a child, I spent every summer with my grandmother in Winnipeg. She was deeply Catholic and forced me to attend Mass three times a week—in English, French, and Latin. She constantly reminded me that we needed to “pray the savage” out of me because she believed my father was Métis (turns out, he wasn’t, but we didn’t know that at the time). She told me my parents were raising me “wicked.” Looking back, what my family truly needed was help for addiction and therapy for the abuse I endured—not more time in church. But for my grandmother, appearances mattered more than reality. After Mass, we’d go to Salisbury House (Winnipeg classic), where she and her friends would gossip about the sermon, other churchgoers, their marriages, and their clothing. Inside the church, they preached morality. Outside, they tore each other apart.

I have read the Bible—different versions, cover to cover. Nowhere did I find justification for the hypocrisy I witnessed firsthand. Decades later, I learned something shocking: my mother, raised by this French Catholic woman, wasn’t even her biological or adopted child. In 1947, she had simply been handed this baby to raise. My mother was the child of Jewish immigrants, whose parents—my great-grandparents—escaped Poland just before World War II. I don’t know for certain, but I suspect that, in post-war Canada, my Jewish mother was placed with a Catholic family for safety. Perhaps my grandmother focused on my darker-skinned French father and his supposed Métis heritage to distract from the fact that she had been secretly raising a Jewish girl. I may never know the full truth, but it feels right.

I would love to learn more about my Jewish heritage. But just because I am biologically half Polish-Jewish doesn’t automatically make me anything more than the person I have grown to be. Identity is complex, shaped by history, experience, and personal beliefs—not just blood.

If I had to align with any religion, it would be Buddhism, as its principles closely reflect how I want to live my life.  I believe in karma – that the energy and intention you put out in the world comes back to you, your mindset determines your future. But I don’t feel the need for a label. I can practice mindfulness, compassion, and non-attachment without preaching, arguing, or converting others. My way is just that—my way.

Religion is still such a taboo topic that we often fear asking questions. Instead, we make assumptions about others, placing them into categories based on our limited understanding. But there is always more to the story. Instead of assuming, why not ask? Instead of judging, why not listen? The world could use more curiosity and less condemnation, more acceptance and less division.

Faith, spirituality, belief—it’s all deeply personal. The most important thing is not what you believe but how you treat others. In the end, kindness, respect, and understanding matter far more than religious affiliation or lack thereof.

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#BeyondReligion #SpiritualNotReligious #KarmaAndKindness
#JudgmentFreeFaith #ReligiousDiversity #AskDontAssume
#OpenMindedFaith #BeliefWithoutBorders #FaithWithoutJudgment
#UnderstandingOverDivision #PersonalBeliefJourney #LiveAndLetBelieve