Being A Preacher's Kid Essay

“What is the hardest part about being a Preacher’s kid?” If I had a penny for every time I got asked this question I would probably be a millionaire, if not a billionaire. As soon as I would tell people that I was a preacher’s kid their first reaction was to look at me up and down, confirming that what I was wearing was “preacher’s kids appropriate clothes”. Others would simply smile in shock or not so happy about my comment. The reactions from each individual were completely different, but I began to somehow embrace these awkward situations and started bragging about what was once an embarrassing fact about myself. I believe that being labeled as a “PK” has changed my life completely; from loving being a Christian, to being embarrassed of …show more content…
There was no possible way to hide the fact that I had church on Tuesdays, Wednesdays, Thursdays, Fridays, and Sundays. While many of my friends spent their Friday nights are the homecoming football game, I was in church trying to teach a bible story to twenty beautiful, yet wreck less little kids. Towards the beginning of my High School years my friends actually attempted to invite me to all of the school activities, but after a while they began to give up and I would only see my friends in school. We grew apart and eventually I began to feel lonely. It’s not like they hated me, because they spoke to me as much as they could considering the fact that we were in a classroom with a teacher starring us down, but it was the simple fact that I was a “PK”. I wanted to be like my friends: Free and careless. I was at a breaking point which did not only damage my self-esteem, but also my relationship and involvement in …show more content…
I knew that I was only sinking in deeper into this desperate need for answers, but I didn’t question my circumstance, instead I watch myself turn into a religious robot. I was there physically, but mentally I was in another world. I wanted what I could not have, my loneliness outgrew my happiness, and through it all I knew I could not simply express my feelings because I was supposed to be “perfect” and “an example to others”. My “smile” hid my actual outlooks, I thought I was doing the right thing, I thought I knew everything there was to know about the bible and Christianity, but little did I know that being born in a certain environment does not make you part of a certain group. To conclude, little by little, these mental spiritual damages changed my personality and my view on Christianity. I learned that the meaning of a smile can change according to your situation. My meaning of a smile? Well I didn’t have one, I just knew it hid my real feelings, and that was all I cared about at the