When I first started to learn about God, there were a lot of people who tried to invalidate my relationship with Him. They would try to tell me that what I felt wasn’t realistic, and for a while, I was confused. At the time, the best decision seemed to be just going with what was socially acceptable. I would think to myself, If everyone is telling me what I’m feeling is wrong, then surely it must be.

I did not have any prior knowledge about God, so I put my trust in what the people from church were telling me, since they had been going to church for a long time before I came along. I continued to go to church, but for some reason, I felt as if a guilt or weight sat on my chest. I realized I was feeling this way because I was denying the feelings that the people from church had told me were wrong. I thought to myself, What’s wrong with me? Why can’t I just be normal like everyone else?

I remember going home that day and crying like an inconsolable child. The sensation of being an outcast consumed me completely, to the point that I stopped going to church. At that point in my life, I had no motivation to go, and all I did was stay home, isolated in my room with my thoughts. Although to everyone around me I looked fine, even happy, on the inside I felt like a black hole—a black hole that consumes everything around it, yet the void stays the same.

During this time away from church, I tried to find happiness in the things the world could offer me. I kept up this behavior, doing things that brought every other teenager my age joy and adrenaline, yet the void remained, and I found myself feeling worse than ever. This feeling of having a void in your heart is something I wouldn’t wish on anyone—not even my worst enemy. The emptiness is so emotionally draining, which is ironic, considering that when you feel this void it almost feels as if you don’t have any emotions at all. It feels like you’re merely existing, not truly living. That feeling is what really gets to you in the long run.

After living this way for a while, I found my path back to church because, for some peculiar reason, the best memories I had—when I was truly happy—were when I was at church in the presence of God. Then, as if it were God Himself speaking to me, I realized that I would a million times rather be an outcast and have God by my side than be socially accepted, have everything the world has to offer, and still feel empty.