I like to think I am a modern woman: you know, I wear bold red lipstick, I have no problem with bringing home the bacon and I can navigate myself around a killer Instagram selfie.
If I am speaking honestly, I can admit that I have lived a relatively sheltered life and while I often joke that I am plagued by ‘Catholic guilt,’ the older I get the more I realise my conscience really does live in-between church pews and the confessional both.
I grew up around the Catholic calendar largely because I attended an all-girls convent primary school. This ensured that my choices were constantly centred around, “What would a good Catholic girl do?” Day-after-day the entire congregation of young Catholic schoolgirls gathered in the quad for morning prayers and as Wednesdays approached, so did mass day. On top of all of this, my grandmother would double and triple-check that I attended mass every Sunday too; and if she got her way, I would be sitting front row!
When I got to high school, the bitchiness of an all-girls school got too much for me and so I made the decision to move to a co-ed school where I was introduced to a whole new world (cue Aladdin soundtrack). It was here that my religious obligations fell to the wayside. Church was no longer always in my face and while I thought that was it; I had no idea just how deep the impact religion had on me. I began noticing how Catholicism had infiltrated almost every aspect of my life, when I realized how I became plagued with guilt and a sense of shame whenever I would question it – hence the term, ‘Catholic guilt.’
My most recent experience of Catholic guilt came with the new discovery of Homo Naledi. All my life I had been taught to believe that the existence of humanity emerged from God’s creation of Adam and Eve; but with Homo Naledi being the second missing link to confirm the Theory of Evolution. What should I believe? I feel as though it’s reaching a point where I can no longer deny scientific facts and this is where my guilt comes in (cue grandmother shaking head in shame).
Now here’s the part where it gets tricky; I feel like we all like to indulge in a bit of mindless TV watching when we’re taking a break form the everyday rat-race, but does that mean I’m a sloth? According to the Bible, sloth is considered as one of the seven deadly sins and this encompasses carelessness and laziness. Surely St. Peter isn’t going to forbid me from entering the Pearly Gates because of a Kardashian’s marathon every now and then? I mean, shouldn’t feeling guilty be enough? I do work hard on other days.
I guess it’s safe to say that I’m stuck with Catholic guilt for as long as I shall live, but hey, at least my gran will be happy and give a big Hallelujah to that!
Raquel De Canha 