I became an atheist when I was 17. In fact, that is when I first learned of the term and what it meant. For the first 17 years of my life I was, what I would now call, a theist by presumption. I presumed that some sort of god existed, however, I rarely gave much thought to it.

I was fortunate, perhaps, to grow up in a non-religious household. Both of my parents are believers with Christian backgrounds (Catholic and Methodist, respectively), but religion was not something that was ever discussed at home nor was I ever taken to church. Holidays such as Christmas and Easter were celebrated in an almost completely secular manner. Jesus barely seemed to be the reason for the season.

In fact, the only time that I ever remember going to church was when I was really young and my grandmother took me to her Catholic mass. To sit in one of those pews, to thumb through one of the Bibles that sat in the slot in front of me, and to stare at the statue of Jesus on the cross on the far back wall left an odd impression on me. I can’t possibly describe it in words, but to a small child, it was all a bit confusing, to say the least. I remember spending a long time staring at a series of artwork depicting the crucifixion and resurrection of Jesus that ran along the walls on either side of the church in a combination of awe and puzzlement.

I first heard the “good news” when I was in fourth grade. It was during recess, and one of my friends gathered a few of us around and indicated that he was excited to share something with us. He explained how we are all sinners under God. He told us, because of this, the only way we could get into heaven after we died was by asking God for forgiveness. It was that simple, he said. All that I had to do was ask for God’s forgiveness every once in awhile and I’d be in good shape. When should I do this, I ask? It doesn’t matter, he replied. All that essentially matters, then, is that you do it. So, I did exactly what he had told me to do. I bowed my head, closed my eyes, and asked for God’s forgiveness.

Funny thing was, I felt no different than I had before. I may have been a child, but I felt silly. I felt like I was talking to myself. Needless to say, I stopped trying to talk to God.

I did not think much about religion or god again until I was 17. I was on a class trip to Washington D.C. and we were touring a cathedral. That must have got me thinking again. Once we were outside, I made some comment to a friend of mine that prompted him to ask me whether or not I was an atheist. I had honestly never heard the word before and asked him what it meant. When he told me, my immediate gut reaction was to quickly deny that I was an atheist – and so I did. However, in my mind I knew that I was, and in some way I was grateful to my friend for finally identifying, with a word, what had been lingering within me for all that time.

That was all that I needed. Sometimes that is just what many of us need. In the ensuing years I read whatever I could find on atheism or that was critical of religion. Yes, the logic and the arguments were all compelling to me, but the greatest revelation, for me, was discovering that there are so many other people out there who share my disbelief. That is the impetus for this website. I want to make it easy to share your story. So, I hope that this website will help give a voice to all of those atheists, agnostics, and unbelievers out there – especially the ones still hiding in a closet, behind a rock, or under a bed.

If you would like to participate, please learn how to contribute on the Share page.