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I moved from a big city (Toronto) to a smaller city (Oshawa) and I loved that no one knew anything about me. My family were a combination of christian and catholic. I saw the bible get tossed around like a football every day. My grandmother went to Newfoundland and found Jesus. Didn't know he was hiding out in Millertown. She forced all of us kids (my three cousins and I lived the closest to her) and she wanted to save us. Three of us managed to get out of going to church. It took me having to question the guy in Sunday school enough with things he couldn't answer for him to talk to my grandmother to never making me go back to Sunday school. I had also been kicked out of church for snoring just a few weeks later. When I got into high school, I had read everything there was on the shelves and the only section I didn't read was in religion. They had everything in there except Satanic books. I don't know if 1984 sucked for Satanists, but they had more books on witchcraft than ALL other religions combined. I started to read them and understood them more than all the other religions. I bought into the whole "Satanists kill animals" thing so it wasn't on my radar. One of my cousins read everything he could get his hands on about Satanism and I started to read the books he was reading. I started to get a better understanding about ti and realized that I was lied to by all the Christians I met. I came out of the broom closet to everyone in my family (with Facebook) and after moving to a tiny village of a town east of Peterborough, a town that has more churches than any city I have ever lived in, I slowly started to bring out the pentacles. No one screamed and ran away. One of my best friends is Pentecostal and she stands up for me. I started telling people (mostly Christians and missionaries who bang on my door) that I was a Satanist. It was more for shock value, but as I read more and more about it, I realized I really was one. I hate religion and all the pain it causes.