God ruined my life and it can ruin yours

politically incorrect title for politically correct love​


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Today I could tear my hair out.

The other night a little girl with alopecia asked her mother: “What did I do wrong to make God let my hair fall?

I flashed back 20 years in a fraction of a second.

I was in bed, I was crying.
I was talking to God with eyes red of tears turned towards the sky and you know, don’t you, that talking in the dark of the night is like shouting on top of a kenyon.

And sobbing in the dark of the night is like hearing an eagle hunting for love.

And hearing your words of despair slamming into the wall just to come back straight into your eardrums, makes you lose hope that someone is really listening.

But I was talking to God. Even though I did not know which way to talk, I spoke with him because in my family we are all baptized – so talking to the air is strongly advised – and because I went to the nuns school where every morning they made us say a prayer as soon as we were all in class, a prayer to thank him.

God, that exchange currency with two sides:

“What did I do wrong to deserve this.”
An immense rage rose up from the heart of my navel to my ear as I could clearly distinguish these words whispered by a memory.


  • What would have happened if instead of growing up in a culture that promotes divine punishment, I grew up in a culture that promotes diversity, personal growth, the naturalness of understanding oneself through simply “gaining experience“?

  • How would I have lived my teen years if instead of constantly feeling guilty about myself because I tore my hair, I had asked myself the right questions?

  • How would I have accepted the teachings if instead of feeling guilty towards my parents, I had known how to share myself, open myself and free myself without feeling ashamed?

  • How much more quickly I would have matured in the right direction if instead of feeling guilty about God – because you’re already in deficit for all those who sinned before you regardless -, I was raised by a culture that spurs you to love you for how you are?

A culture that welcomes the difficulties for what they are: a challenge.

A culture that embraces you, but then also kicks you in the butt and yells at you:
stop drowning in your brain about things and take action, because only by making mistakes, you learn.


Fuck the divine punishments and fuck the guilt.
Life is another story that doesn’t begin either with Adam or with Eve.

Little girl, God has absolutely nothing to do with injustice. Injustice is a form of self-pity we naturally experience when we see other people having what we don’t have and even more something we wished we had too.

It’s not up to God or any religion to decide where, from whom or why we are born this way. We are born this way, like any other animal or plant on earth. We are born different and asymmetrical and we all produce the same waste. Actually, I envy my boyfriend who produces a lot more waste than I do. 

There’s nothing wrong with you just because you are evidently different from most of the people you see every day. We are almost 8 billion people living on this earth and we are quite scattered. But if we could live as dens as they live in Manhattan, we would be all neighbors in New Zealand and the rest of the world would be left empty, but you would meet A LOT MORE PEOPLE THAT LOOK LIKE YOU!

Ok. I’m losing myself in fun facts, but it is just to say that you have to stop referring to God like he has the answers. Mr. GODKNOWS ruined my life and can ruin yours.

Get ready for some philosophical shit: God is a concept. And concepts change from one tiny brain to another tiny brain to the other 7 billion tiny brains. Don’t base your happiness on such a personal, subjective and unreliable concept.

You can only base your happiness on what you know makes you happy right now and that answer is only found within yourself. Don’t look for it outside or you will lose your way thinking that someone else can tell you what you like, that someone else can make out the rules of your happiness.

If someone out there, and there will be, makes you feel less than you are, if they make you feel ugly or useless or impotent, they make you feel they are better than you and you suffer the injustice of the world sitting butt naked on your shoulders, always think these people SHIT LIKE EVERYONE ELSE. Their poo doesn’t smell like roses and that’s the only certain thing God did for us humans.

Here’s what I tell you, 10-year-old girl:
 Believe more in your judgment, believe in who you see in the mirror and this time it will be God himself finding his answers in you.

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