Why I Reject the ‘Religious’ Label

I cringe when people call me religious.

To be honest, I find the word mildly offensive. Not because of ill intent on anyone’s part — the reaction may say as much about my own sensitivities as about the label itself. Disclaimer noted. But let me be clear nonetheless.

When someone calls me religious, here is what I hear: “I see you use words like God, Jesus, faith, prayer. I assume you are Christian, superstitious, narrow-minded, and probably not particularly curious.”

I make no apologies for my Christian roots. I’ll continue using the words and imagery that resonate with my journey. But I don’t check labels — Christian, Buddhist, mystical, philosophical — I follow truths that speak to my experience and to the inner Witness who has been with me from the beginning.

My journey back into God is ongoing. It draws from many traditions. It touches the depths of spirit, engages the mind, finds expression through the body — all of me, not just a curated spiritual self.

I am neither compliant nor exclusive enough to feel at home within any single tradition. A fish out of water — perhaps that says it best.

Call me whatever you like. But please — not religious.