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America, Take Up Your Reaper

Updated on August 28, 2016
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I am getting older with every passing day and it is time for me to come to terms with who I am as a person. I have had a troubled life but who hasn’t? Our own trauma’s, however mediocre, are real for us and therefore can not be placed on a scale to be compared to anyone else’s.

For years now, since I entered my teen years, I have claimed to be anything but what I truly am. I guess it was just my way of rebelling; pretending to be something that I am not.

I was born the child of American citizens whose ancestral seeds go back to the planting of America as an independent country. Although, my family was not always American, we started from another place; another land entirely. It has been a great span of time since the first people, the founders of my immediate family, came to this country to escape the oppression of a tyrant. I can not exactly place where my roots began, all I know is that we came from Northern Europe (England being included) but that blood has since been watered down with the blood of the East.

It is widely understood that we came to land on American soil along side the first adventurers and pilgrims to harvest an honest crop that could not be taken away from our callused hands. A tainted religion consumed the happiness of my ancestors, causing them great misery. That religion was Catholicism and under its rule we could not breathe or think for ourselves without someone else to tell us that we were doing it wrong.

So we left to come to a virgin land. America, as I have said, was a land untainted by the cruelty of the European world. In this land, we could raise our children as we wished and think what we wished without being condemned to hell. It was a good and simple life.

As far as my story goes, I have pretended to be apart of a clan that was not my own. I could never admit to myself that I was the same as everyone else because I did not like having a mask cast upon me. I still can not tolerate it.

My ancestors did not agree with what the Catholic Church preached to them and frankly, I think that they were tired of the drama that it carried with it. That is when we converted to our own way of thinking. We converted for the sake of our children, in the hopes that they would make it to the promise land, not because they paid their way, but because they earned it by being of good and honest people.

I see now that it is time for me to admit the truth to myself.

I am not Hindu or Muslim or even Jewish. That is not me and it may never be. I am a protestant that is content with the life that I have lived. The morals that my family has instilled upon me have been the characteristics of my family for generations.

I was raised to do what is right; to not push myself upon people as the Catholic Church once did with my elders. I was raised to respect a person who works hard, honestly, and never settles for second best because my family never settled for anything less than that when they settled in America.

I will not go into the corruption of modern times because I believe that that should be saved for another time.

This is from the mind of a protestant. One who has spoken with God and has heard what he asks of all of us. It does not matter how you worship or how you pray. Do what makes you happy and good things will come your way.

If you are wise, you would have understood the moral of this memoir and taken its meaning in stride.

It is about finding yourself in a time of great diversity and accepting that you can not change who you are or where you came from. You can wear your mask for as long as your live but people can only pretend to see what is right in front of their eyes for a certain amount of time.

My God has revealed the most amazing life by helping me to open my eyes and see that something was on my face.

Why don't you try taking yours off as well.

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