Last night I got into one of those situations that remind you of watching a horrific car crash: you see it happening but can't stop it and then BAM! Complete carnage. In my experience two types of conversations are the main culprits: politics and religion. A newly acquired friend brought up religion in an otherwise friendly conversation. In my metaphorical attempt to warn the driver I said, "Let's not go down this road. It's a slippery slope." Against my warning advice, this friend said, "No! I love debating religion." Cue screeching brakes and shattered glass.
I silently resolved myself to offer zero fuel for this conversation and keep my personal views to myself. It wasn't worth the argument, the possible hard feelings, or the uncomfortable air that clouds these types of situations. But, being who I am, as he rattled off historically inaccurate facts about God, Christianity, and, most significantly, the Bible, I felt my blood begin to boil. I could not control the overwhelming desire to point out each inaccuracy; to refute all the facts that his personal beliefs were apparently based upon. So I tried to explain.
I kept my personal beliefs (almost) entirely out of it, hoping that stating simple fact would keep this conversation less hostile. But, alas, ignorance and alcohol kept the very real facts from sinking in. I attempted to point out the errors in his defense, all the while respecting his point of view, hoping to simply enlighten him or encourage him to find out more about what he bases his beliefs upon. However, he then pulled out, "Well I've studied this stuff. And I mean, more than you do in high school. So I think I know what I'm talking about." Well, sir, if that is an attempt to say I know less than you, I hate to argue that you, in fact, do NOT know what you're talking about.
So finally I resigned to end the conversation because I knew that nothing I was saying would change or even make him question what he believed. As we left his apartment, he gives me a hug and says, "And, listen. Don't worry about the argument." Excuse me? I shouldn't worry about the argument? Trust me, I wasn't, my friend. So then as I was driving home I couldn't help but consider what he meant. Was he trying to say I should feel ashamed for engaging in the conversation he insisted upon having? Was he blaming me for the obvious ackwardness that affected everyone during our conversation? Or was he meaning that I should have never voiced what I know? Was I to be blamed for having the conviction to not allow someone to ignorantly argue points that they clearly know nothing about?
The more I thought about it, the angrier I got. Then I had this shining moment of clarity: my entire life I have landed myself in the doghouse for standing up for myself, my friends, and what I believe in. I never understood why. I always thought, maybe I should just be passive like everyone else I know. They seem to have the "don't rock the boat" outlook on life. But I just couldn't bring myself to do it, even after disappointing results for upward of 20 years of my life. Then, late last night, I had an epiphany. For the rest of my life, I would rather have the integrity to stand up for what I believe than idly stand by and let other people run all over me. At the end of the day other people don't because they don't have the courage to stand up for anything. I am the only person who will ever be accountable for my actions in this life and I will never allow the perceptions of others alter who I am or what I believe. I may die being wrong about a lot of things. I may die with people thinking all sorts of things about me. But at least I will die with my integrity.
And quite honestly, I'm okay with that. So I will happily keep my permanent bed in the doghouse. I will never stand by and let people think that they have power over my beliefs. I will never stop being me.
So the car crash happened. But at the end of it, I walked away unscathed. Take that unacceptable social topic. Take that.
With my integrity in tact,
