Religion

When most people hear the word 'religion', they cringe. There are so many different religions in the world that there's no way that you can say something that won't offend some religion, so most people just avoid the topic entirely. I used to be one of those people.
Some background info: I guess I am a Roman Catholic. I mean, I was baptised when I was too young to protest, and made my confirmation when I was old enough to talk, but young enough so that my parents controlled my every move and belief. Crafty, eh? I used to believe in religion, mostly, until I took Comparative Civilizations in grade 12. Awesome class. In it, I learned more about where the Catholic faith came from, and I was quite shocked at the horrible things the church did in those days. My faith faltered a lot because of that class. I go to church every Sunday. Still do. It's the only thing my mother can force me to do. I think it's the Catholic mother guilt trip that us Catholic children know so well; hell, I even use it on other people! Anyway, I never minded going to church that much. After all, it was only one hour out of my week and it made my mom happy. Plus, after it my whole family would go and visit my grandmother, so I'd get to see her, too. Still, though, church has always been a nagging inconvenience. Sunday morning is a time where I should be sleeping in, not struggling to stand up at 9:15 am and listen to the very same chants and songs I hear every week.
Then, one morning, I stopped caring. Something opened my eyes to the futility of religion, and that something was, ironically, my mother.
Usually when one of us can't go to church on Sunday for some reason, we go Saturday night instead. Well, mom had to take my little brother to hockey or something, so the whole family went to Saturday mass. I chose not to go, and said I would go on Sunday. When I woke up that next morning, I was so tired that I decided that no one would miss me if I didn't go. Well, when mom got home from hockey, she banged on my door, waking me up, and said, "Why didn't you go to church?"
I didn't know what to say, so I just said, "Sorry."
She then said something that changed my whole outlook on religion: "Well in MY house, you go to church." Then she left. I thought that was so horrible. Basically, she was forcing her beliefs onto me just because I lived in her house. She could have given me a much more convincing reason than that, I'm sure, but she chose that one. Anyway, I had suffered with people all my life who have tried to force their beliefs onto me, saying, "You're going to go to hell!" and stuff, and I had always despised those people. Was my mother one of them and I just never knew it? Later that day, I saw her again and she said, "You know, I'm thinking of kicking you out." I was so shocked that I just shut the door on her and refused to speak to her again for the rest of the day. Eventually, the argument was forgotten, but something inside me that was there before is gone forever. I'm not sure exactly what it was, or how it will affect me, but one thing's for sure: if religion would make my mother think that she should kick her firstborn daughter out of the house for not following her beliefs, then I don't want to be a part of it.