I am not a practicing Catholic. This means I was raised as a Catholic, went to Catholic schools, been baptized, had first communion, and was confirmed in my teens as a full-fledged, bona fide Catholic. Years of schooling, church on Sundays, Holy Days of Obligation,(there are many) confessions to the Priest, and more than a few raps on the knuckles informed my childhood. I was devoted, more than anything, I wanted to become a missionary nun, not unlike those three in Nicaraugua killed in service to God. Bishop Romeros assasination had a profound impact on my dedication in those early years. I was in CYO, I wore the little footies on the collar of my uniform.
As I entered my adult years, something changed how I felt about the Catholic church, how I felt about myself, and how I connected to other people based upon the lens that had altered my perception of anyone I would have called non-Catholic. An event occurred in my later teens that irrevocably distanced me from the Catholic church. My Dad got an annulment and married in the church.
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