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I am Pagan; my husband is not. It hasn’t always been this way. I was raised Roman Catholic, my mother dragging my brother and I to church every Sunday. It was boring and painful; I hated it. Once I was Confirmed (and therefore considered an adult in the eyes of the Church), I quit going. I felt like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders and I never had a need to go back until I got married. Luckily we found a priest who didn’t mind that only I was Catholic and never went to Mass, so I had the traditional church wedding that I had always wanted.

In those early years it didn’t matter much to me that I was Catholic and my husband was not. He identifies as Christian, but was never baptized or went to church. Everything he knows about his religion came from his father, who (unfortunately) believes that the Bible is the exact and true word of God and never deviates from it. We argued about him not being baptized – I was worried I wouldn’t see him in heaven; he made rude comments about my faith and I worried it would be difficult raising our kids Catholic with all his jokes and jabs about my beliefs. Eventually, the argument died down. I had our kids baptized, sent them to religion, and he just went along with it.

That was until about three years ago. I discovered Paganism. Sure, I’d heard of it and Wicca before, but this time I was interested and the more I read, the more it felt like I had come home to a true spiritual path that I hadn’t known I was seeking. I hid it from my husband at first; I was sure he’d think I were crazy and worshipping Satan. I slowly left the newly purchased books about Wicca and witchcraft out where he could see them, made a special place on the bookshelf for my sacred tools. I don’t really recall when or how I finally told him, but I do remember the fights. He tried to make me see it was bad and scary, while I tried to make him understand that this was who I was now. He didn’t want to see or have anything to do with Paganism or Wicca in his house; he also refused to let me explain to him what it was about so that maybe he could understand without fear.

There was one particular night after we’d been arguing about it when I sat wondering if I could really continue to be married to him because of this, and what was more important – my husband, or my faith? Time passed and just like years before, the argument faded away. He learned that this was not just a fad and that I was serious. I agreed to continue our children’s Catholic education until they had made their First Communion because I felt it was important to have a basic understanding of a traditional (and yes, more socially accepted) faith and he agreed that I would share my new beliefs with them as well.

We’ve come a long way, looking back. I now have an entire room devoted to my faith and the Craft rather than just a shelf; he even helped me refinish the second hand tables I bought to use as altars. He gets in his little pokes here and there, but I know they’re in fun. He even had Samhain dinner with my Circle this year. He doesn’t argue when I teach things to the kids he doesn’t agree and when they ask me if they are Pagan or Christian, I tell them both. Sometimes my younger daughter will make negative comments about Christianity and I remind her that she needs to be respectful of others’ beliefs even if they are not her own. Eventually, when they are old enough, I’d like my girls to choose their own path based on what feels right to them. Yes, I’d like them to choose the Goddess, but  until then, all I can do is hold their hands and guide them the short while they walk along mine.