I’m catholic.but I was raised by a cultural catholic parents, whom i have no recollection of them supporting the church or going to reconciliation. I had an example in my grandmother who was devout and a beautiful person. She had extreme patience, understanding, and rarely did she pass judgement on others.
I walked away from the church as a teen. There was lots going on in the 80’s. Word of the sex abuse scandal, the ‘sexual revolution’, our schools Catholic education being very poor. I bought into the domesticated Christian views of if I am a good person, good enough…but…
I made some very bad choices in my life. At a time when I was really seeking, I felt that the Catholic church wouldn’t have me, so I sought for comfort in the wrong things. I spent a lot of time lost and wandering… 20 years or so. But the pull never stopped.
Now, I am back. What had kept me away was a big part ignorance. Letting myself be taught about the faith by those who didn’t know it

and fear and pride.
I knew I wanted to go back for probably 9 years or so but I had to deal with my own screwed up mentality, pride and fears. There were impediments to deal with. To deal with them, I’d need to speak of them, and I just wasn’t ready. Pride kept me away. And then there was the thought of confession. I had gained the mentality, that it wasn’t any one’s business. That if I prayed on it, good enough…yet, I knew it wasn’t.
But sometimes one needs to be hit up side the head to get it… The one thing I was running from was the one thing I needed, the Catholic church. The thing that had held me back for years once that was realized was the fear of confession, ended up being the thing that brought me back, fully.
School of hard knocks… I graduated with honors.
I started going to Mass regularly, sitting quietly in the pew, sliding out the side doors after Mass, essentially invisible. During Advent, there was notice of a penitential service… the seed was planted. I went to the penitential service on a whim as there would be 13 priests and I could go to some one who’d never see me again, therefore no one at our parish would know how awful I really am… it didn’t turn out that way, it ended up with a priest that i respect immensely, the one person I’d have rather not had, really really didn’t want to do it, but if I’d have walked out that day, everyone would have seen me do so, and then it would have been awkward, I think this was pride working for good this time. It was hard to do, it wasn’t anonymous, we sat face to face, I struggled hard with it. There was a humility in that experience that I hadn’t expected and never experienced before. He was exactly who I needed to see that night, despite my own preferences at the time. He walked me through the process. He was so kind, patient and non-judgmental.
I’ll never forget it how I felt. As I was leaving, he stood up, put his hand on my arm to stop me, and, this seems totally odd, through my winter jacket and I live in the great white north, so it’s a heavy jacket, I shouldn’t have felt anything except the weight of his hand, but I felt the heat from his hand like it had been through a sleeve of a blouse, and he had such a look of compassion and concern, I would have started crying if i hadn’t been already. He had stopped me to suggest I make an appointment with him at the office and we’d deal with some things to get me moving forward. It was such a little thing, yet, I can STILL feel that touch on my arm, it was a very moving experience, that small act of concern and compassion. I know I’m crazy, I must have been a real wreck…lol
I didn’t know, that night, if I would make an appointment but I found myself calling the next day, and he returned my call a few days later and within the week we’d had our first meeting. We’ve had a few, and all impediments have been dealt with. I never assumed that things would go my way, I did a lot of praying on the matter. But it did happen, praise the Lord!
The long and short of it all… is I held back because of a lack of understanding the healing for the sacrament of reconciliation… yet it was my submission to the whispering call to go to confession that started the healing, and now I’m back, with many things yet to work through, and much to learn, but if I could get through the last year, I can learn and work through many things to come.
I still don’t like going to confession… or rather, I don’t like how I feel waiting to go to confession, or how I feel telling my confession, but the weight that is lifted afterward, is such an amazing gift. I am pretty sure I will always struggle with doing so, I can only pray it becomes easier to do.
And despite my best efforts to NOT have a regular confessor, I do.

We have 3 priests who rotate, yet, I’ve only ever had one. Think it’s time to become quiet and listen to what I’m being told.