Barking Up the Wrong Trees

You’ve been barking up the wrong trees. Find people who are available. My counselor and I were discussing my desire for female friendships. But when she made those statements, I had what Oprah would call an A-ha! moment. My frustration with church, faith, spirituality, and religion suddenly became clear.

For nearly forty years, I barked up the wrong trees. Now it wasn’t my choice in the beginning. In the deep south, you’re pretty much born into a brand of faith as much as you’re born into your family’s pick of the SEC football teams. So when people are born into them, they pretty much stay. You don’t question or consider any other way. To leave either fold is almost equivalent to betrayal. Granted, switching which football team you cheer for is slightly easier than changing denominations, or worse, religions. Your family might eventually forgive you and try to understand, but your friends and former-fellow-church members most likely won’t.

I’ve been out of church for two and a half years, and had mentally left about a year before that. What I’ve realized is that I’ve too often been sitting under the same tree, trying to be heard by folks who don’t want to hear. I’ve been hoping the church—the religious cornerstone of my culture—would want to hear stories from people like me. But very few are willing to listen to or discuss their sacred institution with someone who’s been burned by it, who questions it. Still, I’ve been the one to sit atop the tree and turn a deaf ear to the howls below, so I know there’s hope for those who eventually find themselves at the bottom.

I realized that what I’ve been trying to communicate—my story— is for those who end up at the bottom of the tree and don’t know where to go from there. Heck, I still don’t know where to go and sometimes run from tree to tree. But I think it’s important for those of us at the bottom to support one another. Someone who’s been there encouraged my writing recently with this: I have no doubt that there are many you’ve known in the past lurking in the shadows, hanging onto your words and hoping deep down that one day they’ll find the courage to press the eject button on that whole system.

Maybe there’s no more barking up trees; instead, maybe it’s in running from tree to tree like lost puppies that those of us who’ve left a toxic system will find support, renewed strength, and genuine friendships.