Why I Walked Away from Abrahamic Religions? A Journey Through Knowledge📚

Since I was a little girl, I often found myself staring at the sky, listening to the wind or looking for signs in nature, wondering:

Why are we here? What happens after we die?

Those questions, so innocent yet profound, were always in my heart. They felt too big for me to answer alone, and like many people, I believed that the only ones who could possibly answer them must be the religions.

I grew up surrounded by a gentle mix of Shinto rituals (dad side) and Christian beliefs (mom side), a duality not uncommon in Japan.

On one side, there were the quiet offerings to kami, seasonal traditions, and the reverence for nature; on the other, stories of the Bible and occasional prayers to a distant, all-knowing God. As a child, I didn’t question much. Religion was simply part of the environment, part of how people expressed respect, hope, and love. It was soft, ceremonial, and somewhat distant but I never stopped being curious.

🌱 My First Serious Exploration: Christianity

When I was around 13 to 15 years old, I became deeply interested in the Bible. I didn’t approach it casually; I truly tried to understand it. I read scripture, and prayed, hoping it would reveal something deep and clear. I wanted it to give me peace. But the more I read, the more I felt a quiet discomfort. The stories were intriguing, and some teachings were beautiful, but others troubled me : the exclusive salvation narrative, the contradictions between verses.

Despite that, I held on for a while. I didn’t reject it instantly. I transitioned slowly into Deism, a belief that there might be a creator or a divine force, but not necessarily one who intervenes. That belief felt a little safer, less rigid. I used to think, “Maybe religion isn’t for me, but I’ll never stop believing in something.”

At that time, I couldn't imagine life without a spiritual structure.

📚 The Arrival of Philosophy: A New Compass

What replaced religion at that point was philosophy.

I began to read about thinkers : some spiritual, some skeptical, some searching. I found comfort in the questions rather than the answers. For the first time, I didn’t feel like I was sinning by wondering. I wasn’t afraid of doubt. Philosophy showed me that questioning can be a sacred act in itself.

It gave me tools to think clearly, to identify manipulation, to seek truth in more grounded places. Slowly, I began to see that not all questions have neat, satisfying answers and maybe they’re not supposed to.

But my journey wasn’t over yet.

🕌 Turning to Islam: Hope for Clarity

A few years later, partly due to my academic interests and my studies in social sciences, I learned about Islam. I approached it with curiosity and open-mindedness. Compared to Christianity, it felt more coherent in some ways: the emphasis on knowledge, discipline, and structure appealed to me. The Qur'an felt less edited, and the poetic Arabic verses gave a sense of ancient depth.

For a time, I asked myself : Could this be the right path?

But again, my personal values began to clash with doctrine.

As a woman, I couldn’t ignore the issues around gender roles, expectations, and the view of women. I knew that interpretations vary but I couldn’t accept something that would require me to silence my voice or identity in order to belong.

I remember asking myself, in both fear and awe:

“Can I really live a life without any religion at all?”

That question echoed in my chest for a long time.

🔬 The Turning Point: Anthropology and Science

The true turning point came when I started to deepen my studies in anthropology and evolutionary science.

I began to explore the roots of belief, how humans across the world created myths to explain what they didn’t understand, how rituals developed to foster community, obedience, and identity. I saw patterns in every religion: a flood myth, a savior figure, a paradise, a punishment.

It didn’t make me bitter. It made me fascinated.

I didn’t think, “These people are wrong.”

I thought, “This is what humans do. We seek meaning.”

As I read more about human evolution, cognitive development, and the social role of religion, it became clear to me that religions weren’t universal truths but rather cultural responses to universal fears: the fear of death, chaos, loneliness, and the unknown.

So many religions exist, and each claims to be the one truth. But none aligned perfectly with scientific evidence, historical findings, or even with one another. How could I say that just one of them had the truth, while the rest were deluded?

That moment of realization was both sad and freeing.

🌸 Where I Stand Now: Agnostic, Softly Spiritual

Today, I call myself agnostic.

Not because I gave up on meaning but because I’m humble enough to say I don’t know.

I no longer feel the need to cling to a system or a sacred book to feel anchored. Instead, I find sacredness in different things: in nature, in acts of love, in silence, in the way a deer moves through the trees or the stars sparkle above the sea. I still carry a kind of spirituality, but it isn’t something I follow because I believe it is objectively true. It’s more like a language something soft, personal, poetic.

1. What is anthropology — and why did it change the way I see things? 🦴

When I started learning about biological anthropology and archaeology, something shifted in me. Unlike religion, which often gives fixed stories about how humans were created, these fields actually study our origins through physical evidence. They look at bones, ancient tools, fossils, burial sites and build a picture of how we, as humans, slowly evolved over millions of years.

Biological anthropology shows how our bodies and brains changed through time, and how we’re related to other species. Archaeology traces how early humans lived, formed communities, created symbols, and developed spiritual beliefs, not because they received some absolute truth, but because they were trying to survive, understand life, and find meaning.

The more I learned, the more I realized that many things I was told in religious stories didn’t match the evidence. For example, the idea that humans were created instantly, or that the Earth is just a few thousand years old, these don’t hold up when you look at the actual data from excavations or evolutionary studies.

Anthropology gave me something religion didn’t: not answers from above, but a deeper understanding of how we got here, based on things we can touch, study, and question. It doesn’t demand belief, it invites exploration. And for me, that felt more real.

2. What is evolutive science — and why do I trust it more than religion? 📚

When I began learning about evolutionary sciences, it felt like finding a puzzle that actually fits. Religions often claim to explain where we come from and why we’re here, but most of their stories are symbolic, not backed by real evidence. In contrast, fields like evolutionary biology, phylogenetics, paleontology, biogeography, and paleoanthropology build their understanding of life and humanity on observation, testing, and concrete discoveries.

For example, evolutionary biology explains how species adapt and change over time. Phylogeny helps us map out the family tree of life, showing how humans are connected to other species through common ancestors. Paleontology and paleoanthropology uncover fossils and remains that trace the long path of human evolution, way beyond the few thousand years described in religious texts. Biogeography shows how living beings spread and evolved in different regions of the world, shaped by environment and migration.

These sciences don’t just give one story, they’re constantly expanding as new discoveries are made. And unlike religion, they don’t ask for blind faith. They show us how we came to be not through miracles, but through time, adaptation, and survival.

The more I explored these disciplines, the more I realized: they don’t erase wonder : they deepen it. They helped me see life, nature, and even death in a more grounded and awe-inspiring way than any sacred text ever could. For me, that’s far more comforting than a story that never evolves.

3. How philosophy helped me think differently — and more freely 💭

After stepping back from religion, I naturally turned to philosophy. At first, it simply felt more logical more based on questions than commands. But over time, I realized it wasn’t just about asking "why", it was about thinking for myself.

Unlike religion, which often gives ready-made answers and strict moral codes, philosophy teaches us that truth and morality are rarely black and white. Through concepts like moral relativism, I began to understand that values and ethics depend on context — on history, culture, experience — and that there isn’t always a single “correct” way to live or believe. This is something I rarely found in religion, where questioning the rules can often be seen as dangerous or wrong.

Philosophy showed me that it’s okay — even necessary — to doubt, to shift perspectives, and to accept that some things might not have clear answers. It made me less dogmatic, more open, and more compassionate toward different ways of thinking and being. Where religion often says "this is the truth," philosophy asks, "but what if it isn’t?"

That freedom to think, without fear, changed everything for me.

4. Why it’s okay to be agnostic — and admit we don’t know everything 📃

As humans, we are capable of incredible discoveries. We’ve decoded DNA, mapped the universe, uncovered ancient civilizations. But even with all this knowledge, I’ve come to accept something very simple: we will never know everything.

There are questions that science may never fully answer like who (or what) created the universe, or why existence even began. Yes, science gives us reliable explanations, far more grounded than religious texts. But it also has limits. And that’s not a weakness, it’s just reality.

That’s why I feel at peace with being agnostic. I don’t claim to have the truth, but I’m open to possibilities. If there is some kind of creator or higher intelligence, I believe it’s probably something far beyond the human imagination, and definitely beyond the narrow, human-centered image that most religions try to define. A god who creates galaxies wouldn't likely care about tiny rules made by ancient societies.

Being agnostic isn’t about giving up, it’s about staying honest, and understanding that uncertainty doesn’t mean emptiness. Sometimes, “I don’t know” is the most truthful answer we have.

5. What does it mean to be deist — and why it resonated with me for a time 🍃

Before I became agnostic, I spent a period of my life identifying as deist. That means I believed there might be a creator but not in the way religions describe it. In deism, this creator isn’t a god who listens to prayers, demands worship, or intervenes in our daily lives. Its only role might have been to set the universe into motion and then step away.

For many deists, the idea of worship itself feels like a human invention, something we created out of fear, dependence, or the need to find meaning. A true creator, if one exists, wouldn’t need flattery or rituals. It would be something so far beyond human emotions or needs that our religions could never truly define it.

I also started noticing something in nature. Yes, it’s magnificent : stars, forests, oceans, even the human body. But it’s also flawed. There are genetic conditions, deformities, randomness, and suffering. Some people are even born biologically aged, something that defies any idea of a perfect creation. To me, this suggests not the guiding hand of a benevolent god, but a natural system that’s powerful, complex, and sometimes chaotic. Something that doesn’t seem to be watched over but simply exists.

Deism gave me a way to accept the possibility of a creator without needing to believe in an all-controlling, all-loving god who makes everything happen for a reason. And over time, I realized I didn’t even need that anymore. Wonder and peace didn’t require belief — just awareness, humility, and curiosity.

6. Can we be spiritual without a religion? 🛐

For a long time, I wondered if it was possible to feel connected to something deeper, to have a sense of peace, beauty, and respect for life without belonging to any religion. Today, I can say: yes, it is possible. And that’s exactly what I’ve chosen.

Even though I no longer believe in absolute religious truths, I still keep a kind of spirituality that brings me calm. I blend elements from Shinto and Okinawan animism, not because I believe they are objectively true, but because they help me feel closer to nature, to something gentle, ancient, and harmonious. These traditions remind me to honor the earth, to live with simplicity, and to be present with the world around me.

For me, spirituality isn’t about gods or afterlives, it’s about presence, about seeing beauty in small things, and feeling connected to the cycles of life.

And strangely, studying evolutive sciences and anthropology only deepened that feeling. Learning how humans evolved, how we’re part of the natural world, made me respect life even more. It reminded me that we are not separate from nature, but completely shaped by it, fragile, intelligent, emotional creatures trying to make sense of our place in a vast, mysterious universe.

So no, I don’t follow a religion. But I still find peace, wonder, and meaning, and I think that’s enough.

7. How leaving religions helped me mentally 🧘🏻‍♀️

Being into religions at different stages of my life was both helpful and destructive. And yes, destructive is the right word. Religion gave me a temporary sense of structure, but it also trapped my mind. I couldn’t think freely. I was constantly afraid — afraid of being watched, judged, or punished by a god I couldn’t even understand. I felt like I had to live my whole life waiting for the afterlife to be happy. But how am I supposed to be sure I’ll enjoy what comes next? What if I’m just wasting my one life?

The worst part is that it took me years to finally stop feeling guilty all the time : guilty for existing, for thinking, for feeling. Abrahamic religions especially made me feel like everything about me was wrong. Their endless rules weren’t just tiring, they were toxic for my mental health. I couldn’t enjoy simple things without wondering if I was doing something “haram” or “sinful.”

And as a woman, it was even heavier. The way Abrahamic religions view women — whether through scriptures or centuries of interpretation — deeply affected how I saw myself. When I finally walked away, I felt free, especially in my mind. For the first time, I wasn’t ashamed of being a woman. I didn’t feel like my existence was a threat or a test for someone else’s purity. That mental liberation is something I’ll never give up again.

I understand why many religious women defend these views, I used to hold some of those ideas too. But today, I have a cultured and informed mind, shaped by philosophy, anthropology, and science. That’s why I can’t go back. I can’t unknow what I know. I can’t pretend that blind obedience is the same as wisdom.

Another huge change? I’m no longer afraid of death. Once I left religion, that fear faded. There’s peace in uncertainty in accepting that I don’t know what comes after, and that’s okay. What matters is now.

Religious communities — especially Abrahamic ones — can be extremely difficult to deal with. They often turn life into a constant confrontation. If I want to work, for example, I’m told it’s “against my woman nature.” If I want to live on my own terms, it’s rebellion. Everything becomes a sin, a fight, a judgment.

I do think some spiritual traditions — especially animist ones — are more beautiful and nature-connected. But overall, it’s freeing to live without religion. I can finally breathe, think, choose, and exist on my own terms. And honestly, that’s the most sacred thing I’ve ever felt.

💬 A Final Thought for Those Who Are Questioning

If you’re questioning religion, I want you to know, it’s okay. Truly. It happens. It doesn’t mean you’re lost, broken, or bad. It just means you’re thinking, and thinking is never a mistake.

Some people will find their truth and peace through religion, and that’s valid. But others — like me — find it elsewhere. It’s completely possible to explore life’s big questions without religion. There are other paths that offer insight and wonder. For example, biological evolution, phylogeny, paleontology, biogeography, and paleoanthropology.

These fields can teach us so much about where we come from and how we became who we are. With real evidence, not just faith.

And yes, you can absolutely have morality without religion. Morality can be rooted in empathy, biology, and the natural drive to live in harmony with others. It doesn’t require a divine command to be compassionate or fair.

So if you’re religious and confident in your faith, that’s your truth. But if you’re not, or you’re unsure, that’s okay too. Everything is subjective. After all, the way you don’t believe in my beliefs — or in the other 18,000 gods created throughout history — is the same way I don’t believe in yours.

With care,

Seri🌸

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Where Does Morality Come From?

Morality — the sense of what’s right or wrong — doesn’t need to come from religion. In fact, morality existed before organized religions even appeared. Many researchers, especially in evolutionary biology and anthropology, believe that morality comes from a mix of biological, social, and cultural factors.

1. Biological Origins 🧫

Some aspects of morality are rooted in our biology. We are social animals like elephants, dolphins, or chimpanzees. Cooperation, empathy, and fairness helped our ancestors survive. Traits like helping each other, protecting children, or feeling guilt when we harm others have biological advantages. That’s why even small children — or people with no religious background — often know that hurting someone feels wrong.

2. Evolutionary Psychology 📖

We evolved in small groups where trust and cooperation were necessary. Behaviors we now call “moral” — like kindness, fairness, and protecting others — became hardwired in us because they helped the group survive. In a way, morality can be seen as part of our evolutionary success.

3. Cultural Influence 🛐

Of course, morality also changes with cultures. What is seen as “good” in one society may be different in another. That’s where moral relativism (something philosophy teaches) comes in, the idea that moral truths aren't absolute, but shaped by context, time, and place.

4. Philosophical Thinking 💭

Philosophy invites us to ask why something is right or wrong not just follow rules blindly. Thinkers like Socrates, Kant, or even Confucius tried to build systems of morality based on reason, compassion, or justice, not on divine commandments.

So in short:

🧠 Our biology gives us empathy.

👥 Our evolution encouraged cooperation.

🌍 Our cultures shape our values.

🧩 And philosophy teaches us to reflect and choose.