I was driving to church, the same way I always drive to church, and was hit with an overwhelming sense of peace.

Logically, it doesn’t make sense. I’d decided months ago to leave the church I’m a member of, but I still attend occasionally so they don’t know I’ve been searching. Actually, of all the things in my life, this gives me the most anxiety. Because I enjoy spending time with my friends at church. My pastor has become a good friend; he was the first I’d befriended when I’d moved out on my own, and we later traveled together in a group to Israel. So I continue to attend, because I don’t know how to tell them that I no longer can.

Maybe this sense of peace was a long time coming. Maybe I’ve emotionally pushed past the fear. Or maybe God decided it was time for me to calm down already and He smacked me with a “it’ll be okay.” Most likely the latter. Because I’m dumb, and He knows everything.

There were times during the service that I felt singled out, that the accompanying verses or the invitation were solely for me. But it made me sad. Not because I felt any sort of regret, but because they don’t know. I’ve been saying for months that I’m moving on, but for the first time, it truly felt like the beginning of the end.

I won’t say anything bad about the church I grew up in. I learned a lot, and it’s strengthened my faith. And for some people, this is the church they belong with. But me? It isn’t, nor has it ever been.