The Pressure of Perfection

How my upbringing in church created in me shame, guilt, and the pressure to strive for perfection.

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I grew up in a Christian home.

I attended Sunday school, church, once a week youth groups, and occasionally a weekend retreat.

I sat in the pews taking in all of the words spoken by the man at the front of the church. He stood on a stage, speaking into a small microphone, and held on to the edges of the wooden podium that had a cross carved onto the front.

I followed along in the Bible that was placed in the pews and pretended that I was interested in the words being read.

It was really quite boring as a child, having to sit still and listen to the pastor. I would bring paper and a pen to draw or write in the spaces of the morning bulletin that was handed out at the entryway. I stood up when it was a “standing up” song, and I remained sitting when the pastor called on us to stay seated and sing a more mellow, quiet hymn.

I watched as adults raised their hands and closed their eyes while singing along to the words that have been engrained in my mind. I would watch the music team on stage playing instruments and singing loudly into the microphones. Some people would sway or move gently to the music, but not too…