Proving the Missionaries Wrong

Proving the missionaries wrong was all any of it was to me. I was happy & content when I met them! I thought religion was only something people turned to when something was going wrong in their life— a supposed God as some sort of mental comfort

But that wasn’t me. I was not seeking. I was happy and content and I didn’t need help from anyone or anything, definitely not religion.

I was set out to ruin the missionaries’ life, acting how they taught me only so I could go back to them after ‘nothing happened’ & prove to them that their way of existence was alllllll in their head!

I was doing the WORST GOD HAS EVER SAW kind of efforts. But effort nonetheless, I guess. No idea what I was doing. I was definitely just guessing. 100% just experimenting. 100% of it was all incredibly awkward and uncomfortable to me. Nothing felt right at first, nothing big and nothing immediate, nothing obvious happened from my awful efforts. But I kept doing them anyways, ya know, to prove them wrong.