Something Nubian

I don’t hate Christianity.
I don’t hate religion either.

What I’m tired of—what weighs heavy in my chest—is watching melanated people shrink themselves inside belief systems that were never designed with our freedom in mind.

There’s a difference.

For many of us, Christianity didn’t arrive as a choice. It arrived as an instruction manual for obedience. It came braided with colonization, slavery, hierarchy, and control—wrapped in scripture, justified by heaven, enforced on earth. Over time, the violence faded from view, but the conditioning stayed.

And that conditioning taught us something dangerous:
That God lives outside of us.
That authority is external.
That suffering equals holiness.
That questioning equals rebellion.

So we learned how to pray while disconnected from our bodies.
How to forgive without boundaries.
How to honor systems that dishonored us.
How to call silence “humility” and exhaustion “faith.”

That’s not devotion. That’s survival theology.

I watch melanated people defend religions that stripped our ancestors of language, ritual, land, and cosmology—then call ancestral remembrance “witchcraft.” I watch folks shame intuition, suppress emotion, and distrust their own inner voice because it doesn’t sound like the pulpit. I watch women especially taught to pour endlessly, submit endlessly, forgive endlessly… and call it divine.

And something in me says: this is not alignment.

This frustration isn’t hatred.
It’s grief.
It’s memory.
It’s discernment waking up.

Because here’s the part we don’t say out loud enough:
You can honor spiritual teachings without surrendering your identity to the machinery that delivered them.

You can love the essence and reject the cage.

I didn’t walk away from the Creator.
I walked back to myself.

To the knowing that breath is sacred.
That cycles matter.
That the body is not sinful—it’s intelligent.
That the Earth teaches.
That intuition is not rebellion—it’s remembrance.

If your faith requires your disappearance, it’s not holy—it’s hollow.

Spiritual maturity looks like asking better questions, not memorizing louder answers. It looks like discernment over loyalty, embodiment over obedience, alignment over fear. It looks like trusting that the same intelligence that moves the moon, the tides, and the seasons also lives in you.

Some of us aren’t deconstructing because we want chaos.
We’re composting what no longer nourishes us.

And compost is messy.
But it grows life.

---

✍🏽 Journal Reflection

Where did I learn that God begins where I end?
What part of my spiritual practice feels like expansion—and what part feels like containment?

Sit with that. No rushing. No correcting. Just noticing.

---

✨ I Don’t Believe In God, Because I Know God.
I share the same Creator as the plants and the planets—living, breathing, and aligned with the cycles of creation.
~ ReikiRaEss 🪬

Ready to Begin Your Own Healing Work?

Start small. Reflection is a powerful tool for self-healing and spiritual alignment. That’s why I created Unchained A Journal for Spiritual Awakening, Divine Wealth & Innerstanding—a guide/journal designed to help you step into your own healing journey.

👉 Click here to begin: Unchained A Journal for Spiritual Awakening, Divine Wealth & Innerstanding

This reflection is part of the I Don’t Believe in God series exploring spiritual sovereignty and innerstanding