A Religious Upbringing

I recently had a sad and interesting exchange with a girl I met on Google+ after she heaped praise on a post I shared. I then shared her praise since I'm a huge narcissist and gave her the pseudonym "Kitty Pryde." The following is a small part of her story.

This is what I can tell you in regards to my personal life and how I am who I am today. As a child I was molested by several "friends of the family" and at least 1 "family member" ( I think I have managed to block out a lot). Growing up we didn't go to church, but believing was expected. After enduring the molestation during my childhood, there was absolutely no way in this lifetime that I could begin to make myself believe that some magical invisible being was looking out for me, a 5 year old child whose innocence was being ripped away by full grown "god fearing" adults. I became vocal about my non-belief when I was in high school. This was probably because of all the teenage rebellion hormones :-) but it really wasn't until then that people at school were asking because I had refused to participate in a traditional "religious" ceremony that occurred the Sunday before graduation. At this point, I had never had to discuss it with my family because in a sense, I was invisible. The woman that birthed me took no interest in me and simply took care of my basic needs . My sperm donor was living his life and I saw him once a year, on my birthday.
Fast forward to my early adult life. I ended up in a relationship with an extremely abusive individual who enjoyed using me as a punching bag. He kicked me down a flight of steps, repeatedly kicked me in the stomach, ribs, and back and I had a miscarriage. I walked away with bruised ribs, a busted up body and no baby. My family was VERY supportive (sarcasm). They told me that I had gotten exactly what I deserved because I knew what kind of guy he was. My mother's (I hate to use that word) mother told me that she would pray for me but I wasn't worth her breathe. I remained in the abusive relationship for a few years because, believe it or not, I genuinely thought that he loved me. Why did I think this? Because he told me that he did. I had never heard those words uttered to me EVER. The guy was still fighting me like I was his MMA sparing partner, I had finally had enough and left him (only after he raped me).
One day, I was visiting mother dearest's mother and they were having a religious discussion. I had learned very long ago not to speak until spoken to . They were talking about how good this magical being was and all the he had provided for them, yadda yadda (let me just say that at this point, mommy dearest's mother was completely blind in 1 eye, partially blind in another eye and insulin dependent, living in squalor). Then someone asked when the last time I had gone to church and I stated that I had absolutely no reason or desire to believe that some invisible person was ever or had ever been looking out for me, so I had not had a purpose to go to church. This opened up the flood gates. I asked them if they found it strange that all of these stories in the bible talks about all this healing, yet they sit with some of the worst health conditions known to man. I  then asked why has none of the "miracles" ever been repeated. I was taught in high school science that there is a logical reason for everything and outcomes should be able to be repeated, or better yet, history repeats itself. I asked why there had never been another virgin birth, why no one other than David Copperfield could turn water into wine and walk on water. I then asked how they could really believe that a snake was talking (that one there really threw me). At that point, I had 4 grown women yelling and screaming and crying asking for forgiveness on my part "as she knows not what she is saying." I was then told that I had not been through enough for their god to show himself to me  My response was, "If having my childhood snatched from me multiple times, being raped, being beat close to death among EVERYTHING else I had endured in my life, wasn't enough then HE/She/That is something I don't need revealing themselves to me. Mommy dearest scolded me and told me that I was extremely disrespectful and she had no idea where I got that mindset from. She said,"You weren't raised like that." I kindly responded to her,"Wrong, I was raised like that. Life and fucked up experiences taught me that. You taught me that it is completely possible for a woman to give birth to a child, take care of its basic needs and never let that child know what it feels like to be loved, cared about, valued, or even desired." She looked like someone had just verbalized her deepest, darkest secret. I knew from a very early age that she didn't want me, she didn't like me. She catered to my older sibling. My older sibling wanted for nothing. They played sports, mommy dearest was at every game. They had things at school, she was in the front row. She did none of this for me. I learned how to cope. I learned how to survive and get through.
Mommy dearest's mother died, I did not go to the funeral for a number of reasons. 1) I knew that it would be very religious and more importantly 2) She didn't like me and the feeling was mutual and 3) I found out about her death on Facebook (yes, you read that right).  Everyone completely stopped talking to me. Which was okay by me.

A bummer right? Somehow she turned out okay, and I'm thankful for that. Thankful to who? Well, definitely not God. Theists hardly have the market cornered on bad people, but the hypocrisy of it and sometimes the excuse of it is especially despicable. If you have any comments for "Kitty," I'll be sure to pass them on. Hell, she might even still read this little blog.