Godless Girl

*facepalm*

My mother is visiting for a few days as she attends a local conference. We get along well and have been talking over various topics like jobs, memories, family get-togethers, and so forth. Tonight, the conversation turned to my relationship with my Man (If you’re reading this, baby, don’t be weirded out! This is what our family can’t avoid doing.). At the end of this pleasant topic, we discuss the meaning and reasons for getting married vs. long term partnerships. I list my reasons for liking the institution, and then the conversation follows like this:

Mom: “I don’t mean this in a challenging way, but in order to understand you better, may I ask… Is God a part of your reasoning when it comes to marriage?”
Me: “No.”
Mom: {pause} “Okay. The reason I ask is because I have views on the spiritual meaning and value of marriage, and it would only apply if you considered God in the equation.”
Me: {feeling anxious for some reason} “Yeah, I understand that viewpoint–not having been married, but still as a… well, I’ve been from that uh… I know what it means.”
Mom: “May I ask you where you are with the whole God thing? I mean, you don’t have to say anything…”
Me: “No, it’s okay…” {jittery pause, can’t think of the words} “I’m kind of apprehensive about talking over something so personal with people whom I care for so much and whose opinion really matters to me.”
Mom: “Oh I totally understand you there.”
Me: {Forming the words in my mouth to tell her the truth when—}
{–Keys jingle in the lock. Roomie enters the apartment, cracking the tension like peanut brittle}
THE END.

Oh my damn. I was this close, people! I was ready to say these words: “I’ve been an atheist since summer 2008.” But no! I have to start that whole freaking conversation over again! It’s not like she doesn’t know. Look at all those hints I was dropping! She knows I say no to church, don’t talk about spiritual things, don’t pray with others, etc. She just hasn’t heard me say the words yet. I believe I’m ready, but I am totally unrehearsed. I fly by the seat of my pants. This situation was like having my pants split. Awkward, poor timing, and I’m scrambling to act normal. Will I finish the talk this weekend? Probably. I’m sick of secrets.