What Nobody Told Me About College (Part 1)

WRITTEN: June 2009...SHARED: August 2010


1. Religion

…can be an overrated, polluted, and is often an opportunity to abuse power. When I started college, in 2004, I was already so in love with God. My relationship with Him was simple and based on trust. At the age of eighteen, I did not truly understand the importance of reading the Word, fasting, or any other of the “hubbub” that so many “churched” students created a fuss about once I got to school. I’d always been to churches where the message was the meat of the experience. I had loved being at church, going to vacation bible school, and being around believers…until I arrived in Greensboro.

Freshman year, I started visiting churches in an attempt to stay active like I’d been my entire life. I met a couple young ladies on campus who were already “ministers” in their own right and seeking students (stalking students) who seemed slightly vulnerable or in need of some guidance. Though I’ve always had a mind of my own, I was suffering from homesickness and craved the familiarity and comfort I’d always found in church.

There were two groups of young black women when I started school, those who were in Christ and those who were in the club. The “Christ-like” women were mature, conservative, and (as I later learned) extremists. The “Club-goers” were empty, desperate, and expired by the end of freshman year. I was pursued heavily by recruiters for each group. I dipped and dapped in both areas. But going to the club on Wednesday, then waking up for a 9:30 class on Thursday just didn’t work for me. I wasn’t raised that way. In my mama’s house, everyone was asleep by 11:00pm, Monday through Thursday. Naturally, when I first moved away from home, I wanted to test the waters. Eventually, I discovered that the waters were cold and I was more comfortable being a home-body. I wasn’t completely innocent though. I was young, slim, and outrageously social. My confidence was unmatched on campus. I’d lost forty pounds the summer before college began and I was tiny. My skirts were tinier. By November of 2004, I had at least 8 gentlemen on rotation. My entertainment came to me. I shared a room with a young woman who was excessively religious, involved in Gospel choir, and every other ministry on campus. I couldn’t stand her. She was a hypocrite. I was convinced that she wanted to be me, but she also used religion to persecute me.

Most of the young ladies, who were heavily involved with church, were viciously unattractive. I was expected to pick sides. I was told that I could be desirable or sanctified, but not both. My roommate was no exception to the rule. Physically, she was lacking the assets most brothers on campus whispered about and longed for. Bitterness surfaced in our room often and she would quietly reprimand my actions or mention that she was “praying” for my deliverance. I hated her. A year in that room would confuse even the strongest of personalities. I started to question myself. When I attempted to have guys drop by the room, she responded with discomfort and envy. I thought she was pathetic. I spent a lot of nights in the parlor of the dormitory, studying and talking on my cell phone. But, I started to wonder if I needed prayer and if I was doing something wrong. I started attending on-campus bible studies as well as weekly church services at a small church on the East side.

[I met both of my college sweethearts at that church…and that is all I gained from that experience].

After a few months, I moved on to a more impressive mega-church that hosted a massive college population. Let’s just call the church “EF”, a house of lies and corruption and stage lights, not a house of God.

EF is the church that nobody warns you about. If they do, you probably can’t hear their warnings over the big concerts and flashy fundraisers. It is the church that you spend hundreds of dollars (in both retail and real therapy) trying to forget. But there aren’t enough shoes, vacations, or Coach Bags in the world. There aren’t enough therapy sessions and certainly not enough fake friends. I will never forget EF or the corrupt Christians who “worship” there. I will never forget the burning sting of persecution or the burning sensation that accompanies betrayal. I started going to the church to grow in love and gain a church family, but I lost so much more than I gained. I don’t regret visiting that church, however; I learned an important lesson while I was there. I realized, hundreds of dollars later, that God lives within. No one can tell anyone else how to experience and celebrate His love. No one can censor Him or translate for Him. God is a gift, for the least of us and the greatest of us. I am more in love with Him now than I have ever been. I am not an extremist. I am not judgmental and hateful like those ugly people who tried to break me. I am not wandering, in search for answers and truth. I am confirmed in Christ. I am seeking Him for myself.

The Ultimate Lesson? Never, ever go through people to get to God. Call him on the mainline and just tell Him what you want.