Growing up in a Catholic family, I was immersed in faith from an early age. Sunday mornings were spent at church, and from kindergarten through eighth grade, I attended a Catholic school where the Bible’s teachings were not just part of the curriculum, but permeated every aspect of my life. 

Around second grade, when my peers and I began preparing for our first communion, I started to show signs of what my teachers described as an honest conscience, a trait for which I was regularly praised for. I was constantly apologizing for thinking negatively or having un-Catholic thoughts. 

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Although my teachers believed that I had the makings of a devoted follower of Christ, I was spiralling, trying to shake the persistent feeling that I was doing something bad, dirty or wrong. Eventually, this need to confess my wrongdoings became a disruption. Instead of spending my lunch period sharing snacks and playing MASH, I was sitting in the counsellor’s office, being treated for severe anxiety by a child psychologist. The shame I felt at being called into the office on the PA system burned hot on my neck. How can there be something wrong with me if I am the perfect child of God? This means God isn’t happy with who I am.

My psychologist did not understand why I couldn’t simply stop my compulsion. I did not have the words to explain it to her. 

If I found a classmate particularly........

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