It was time. I was all dressed in white. Nineteen years old, the world ahead of me.

“You just go down that aisle, honey,” mama said. “Declare that you want to be saved. That your life belongs to Jesus.”

“That’s all?” I asked.

“Then you jump in the pool,” she said.

I never wanted to. I didn’t want to be forced. I wanted to love Jesus on my own terms, not everyone else’s.

I did walk down that aisle. I raised my arms. I sang along with the choir. I spoke in tongues, deliriously.

Then I ripped off the white dress and ran for my life through the side exit.

Mama hasn’t spoken to me since that day, but I hope one day she’ll understand.