Christianity epitomizes abuse

I never thought I’d wind up in an abusive relationship. Everyone I know told me that I would never stand for a man treating me badly.

Yet here I am, in a rather sordid love affair with a man I’m too terrified to walk away from. The very thought of leaving him makes me nauseous, even though I’d like to.

He’s quite selfish, I confess. He demands love from me all the time.

I have to follow his rules, his way, even when he’s not there.

He tells me that he’s always there, but you know what? I don’t believe that. I can name a hundred times that I’ve called on him for help and he basically told me to go screw myself. He’s incredibly unreliable. Still, I stay.

In terms of whether I love him enough, he decides that for me.

And if I displease him, he hurts me – physically, emotionally or financially.

He’s quite creative in his punishments; I’ll give him that.

Then there’s the true love factor. Even when I love him and follow his rules and act as good as I can, he does bad things to me, or to my family or friends. Why?

He wants to test my love for him. No matter how bad it gets, I’m expected to worship and serve him. And I’m supposed to do it gladly.

Who do I look like, Nicole Brown Simpson?

I’m in an abusive relationship. I know this. But I’m afraid to leave, even though the man I love is a sadistic jerk by anyone’s standards.

The problem is, my parents love him. Most of my friends adore him. In fact, millions of people worldwide think he’s the greatest thing walking.

But I’m tired of him, personally. This relationship is beginning to drain my soul.

I’m tired of being a Christian.

And even as I type, an icy chill runs down my spine. I know that God is real, and I know I could fall over dead just by typing these words.

But after 20 years of mass services, religious school, and nightly prayers, I’ve finally said it.

I see no advantages to Christianity. It hasn’t made me a happier person, or a better one.

In fact, it’s brought me nothing but headache, angst and aggravation.

I’ll never be the kind of woman God wants me to be. And I’m sick of trying.

The saddest thing of all? I could never turn my back on God. In fact, I’ll probably be praying tonight.

I’ll go back. He’ll make me go back. He’ll fix my life to where it’s so unbearable that I’ll be begging to be enlisted in God’s loyal concubine, whore No. 2,405,321,423.

And even if I love this man with all my heart, and obey him until the day I draw my final breath, it probably won’t be enough when I face him on Judgment Day.

That’s the saddest part of all.

J. Danielle Daniels, 20, is a junior political science student from Dallas. She can be reached at She serves as The Famuan’s deputy opinions editor.