Recent research indicates that over 60% of individuals who undergo significant shifts in their spiritual or religious beliefs report a deeper sense of personal authenticity and purpose afterward (Journal of Psychology and Theology, 2022). This profound transformation, often catalyzed by what losing my faith can entail, is not merely an absence of belief but a powerful invitation to redefine one's core values and spiritual connection. For many, this journey from structured dogma to self-directed spirituality becomes the very crucible for discovering what it means to be truly alive.
The Foundations of Belief and Disconnect
My early life was deeply immersed in a strict religious framework, being the fifth of seven children. From a tender age, I was taught that adherence to rules, outward performance, and maintaining peace were paramount. This upbringing inadvertently encouraged me to surrender my personal authority; the church became the sole dispenser of answers, moral guidance, and even forgiveness. I learned to constantly seek validation from external sources, rather than cultivating a relationship with my own inner wisdom. This external focus created a significant disconnect from the very essence of myself that was meant to be my internal compass.
For years, my understanding of 'goodness' was synonymous with compliance, not genuine compassion. I believed that being good meant strict obedience, rather than fostering authentic connection or heartfelt concern for others. This mindset kept me estranged from my own physical sensations, my intuitive insights, and my innate desire to experience life as something inherently sacred and expansive. The initial stirrings of questioning this ingrained paradigm were not acts of rebellion; they were the nascent steps toward taking genuine responsibility for my relationship with myself and my personal truth.
For an extended period, I meticulously followed the prescribed path. My involvement in church activities was consistent, I married young, and I started a family. From the outside, I had constructed a life that perfectly mirrored societal and religious expectations, leaving little room for personal deviation.
The Unraveling and the Dark Night
The year 2013 marked a significant turning point with my divorce, initiating a profound unraveling of everything I had been conditioned to trust. My naive assumption that my family would offer unwavering comfort was met with unexpected distance and subtle, yet unmistakable, disapproval. This experience painfully exposed the fragility of some relationships and how easily love could be withdrawn when I no longer conformed to their mold. It was then I truly began to comprehend how deeply religion had influenced the conditional nature of love within my sphere.
Despite this realization, I desperately tried to mend what was breaking, convincing myself that I could still belong if I simply adhered to the rules and diminished my own voice. However, this pretense only deepened the chasm between my authentic self and the person I presented to the world. Then, in 2018, everything disintegrated completely. A painful family conflict escalated into a level of rejection I could scarcely have imagined. Those I loved most turned away from my daughter and me, transforming what I believed would be my unwavering support system into the source of my deepest pain. The loss felt absolute.
In the ensuing months, I plunged into a depth of grief and despair previously unknown to me. Days blurred into a numb existence, as if all color had drained from my world. It was more than sadness; I felt utterly absent. I didn't recognize it at the time, but I was immersed in what many refer to as a 'dark night of the soul,' a period that, for me, stretched over seven arduous years. This was depression, certainly, but it was also something far more profound. I wasn't just emotionally unwell; I was spiritually unwell. The faith that had once provided meaning no longer served me, and I had nothing tangible to replace it with. Like a climber losing their handholds mid-ascent, the sudden absence of these familiar structures left me freefalling, devoid of a clear path forward. This wasn't merely a personal crisis; it was an existential one. The profound impact of what losing my faith can have on one's entire being is immense (Mayo Clinic, 2023).
This experience underscores the critical importance of spiritual health. Spiritual wellness transcends specific religious dogma; it's about fostering a deep connection to oneself, to others, and to the broader world. It's the wellspring that gives life depth and coherence. When this connection is robust, one feels anchored, vibrant, and genuinely alive. When we lose this vital connection to meaning, we inevitably lose connection to ourselves. We begin to live from the outside in, measuring our worth by external achievements and our identity by the reflections of others. Life transforms from something to be experienced into something to be merely managed.
Reclaiming Self: Building a New Spirituality
For a long time, I persisted in trying to 'fix' myself using the methods I had always known: pray harder, achieve more, practice gratitude, and push through the pain. Yet, these efforts only distanced me further from my true self, revealing themselves as largely performative. Eventually, survival demanded surrender. I ceased trying to revert to my former self and instead began to ask: Who am I now? This shift, where what losing my faith became a catalyst for deep introspection, was pivotal.
I engaged every resource within my reach: intensive therapy, consistent yoga practice, reflective journaling, mindful meditation, long walks in nature, actively seeking community, and even exploring the therapeutic potential of psychedelics. None of these were magic bullets in isolation, but collectively, they served as powerful medicine. Slowly, I began to construct a spirituality that was uniquely mine, built on personal experience and inner wisdom rather than inherited doctrine. This was akin to an artist, whose canvas was once dictated by rigid rules, suddenly discovering an infinite palette of colors and forms, free to create without external judgment.
Through this process, I learned that believing in something greater didn't necessitate an external authority to define it for me. I could discover reverence in the everyday: in the simple act of breathing, in the sensations of my own body, and in the unexpected kindness of strangers. I realized that a church building wasn't a prerequisite for feeling connected to something sacred. This profound understanding didn't arrive with dramatic fanfare but emerged through a mosaic of small, honest moments: cooking a nourishing meal for my daughter, mindfully breathing through waves of anxiety, and allowing the raw emotion of grief to move through me without resistance. Each act of honesty, however small, meticulously stitched me back together.
The Practice of Aliveness: Connection and Authenticity
Over time, I came to understand that connection isn't a static destination you reach and maintain indefinitely. Rather, it's a dynamic practice, something you consciously return to, again and again. Some days, I still lose my way and forget, and that is perfectly acceptable. The act of remembering, of consciously re-engaging, is an integral part of the ongoing practice of being alive. This is where what losing my faith ultimately led me - to a path of continuous, authentic engagement.
Aliveness isn't about chasing fleeting spiritual highs or waiting for life's circumstances to align perfectly. It is the courageous decision to participate fully, even amidst uncertainty and discomfort. It flourishes through radical honesty, through present moment awareness, and through the willingness to be shaped by the unvarnished truth of reality. This is the profound work of connection, and it is the essential work of being human. It's like tending a garden; consistent, gentle effort yields growth, even if some days only a few shoots emerge (Harvard Health, 2024).
When we lose our connection to inner meaning, we often lose our sense of direction. Without a guiding sense of purpose, it's easy to drift into a version of life that appears successful on the surface but feels profoundly empty within. We might move faster, achieve more, yet still harbor a persistent feeling that something vital is missing. Reconnection fundamentally alters this trajectory. It restores depth to our experiences, transforming ordinary moments into potent opportunities for truth and heightened awareness. It serves as a powerful reminder that our purpose here is not to perfect life, but to truly live it, to feel it deeply, to engage with its complexities, and to learn from every facet.
The world doesn't need more individuals performing wellness or chasing an elusive state of enlightenment. What it truly needs are people who are awake to the richness of their own lives, who consciously bring meaning back into the everyday. It needs individuals who show up honestly for themselves, for their friends and families, and in dedicated service to their communities. The journey after what losing my faith is not about emptiness, but about discovering a richer, more authentic self, firmly anchored in genuine connection.
