So I found this first communion photo in my grandma's "Isabella" album.

I kind of want to frame it.

Views: 24

Tags: catholicism, childhood

Comment by Izzy on December 15, 2009 at 12:16am
Yes, this is me when I was eight years old, and it doesn't bother me at all. I posted it because I think it's hilarious and thought it would make people laugh the way it made me laugh. Please laugh at me.
Comment by Reggie on December 15, 2009 at 12:23am
You look a little pissed. Very cute!
Comment by Lord Atheist on December 15, 2009 at 6:50am
Haaaaaaaaa!
Comment by Shine on December 15, 2009 at 12:49pm
LOL! Izzy, that is the greatest. I so need to scan my old first communion pics. The highlight of the day for me was the giant lamb cake that we each got, and I know that there is a shot of me biting its head off that always makes me laugh.

Did you get the whole "Bride to Jesus" preparation speech, too?
Comment by Izzy on December 15, 2009 at 1:05pm
This response may be longer that seems necessary, but I feel like I have to cover background information.

Starting off, by the time I was eight, I was already disgusted with the world and deeply bitter. On that particular day, I felt stupid because I was forced into an itchy dress (I hated dresses), forced into posing for a photograph in said dress (and I hated being photographed), and being paraded around by my strict, proud Catholic father as if something amazing had just happened. And all over some fussy procession to consume the body and blood of some dead guy, even though it wasn't really his body and blood, and even though I didn't see how the hell drinking someone's body and blood hypothetically speaking was supposed to bring me closer to some deity that I didn't believe existed anyway.

For my whole life, my father has been a stereotypical Asian father. I am not to embarrass the family and my life is not my own, and I must have been spoiled rotten by American culture because I make irresponsible life choices (like being an art major and not pre-med). At a very young age I recognized that my father would very rarely treat me as anything more than a performing monkey, useful for bolstering his own image as long as I behaved and kept my opinionated mouth shut.

Which brings me to the overwhelming feeling that I had of not mattering, or ultimately having no innate value to my family. I was an atheist (although I didn't realize that there was a word for it) and I felt like I was being silenced. There just wasn't a whole lot to do about it because I was eight. Thusly, my negative opinions about religion were supported by the evidence of it in my life, and I have never changed my mind.

The cherry on top was that I was so opposed to going through with my first communion that I was bribed with it the promise of a tiara, which I desperately wanted. I never got a tiara, just a white cotton headband with cloth flowers glued to it.

In short, I pretty much hated my life when this picture was taken.
Comment by Izzy on December 15, 2009 at 1:13pm
And, "Bride to Jesus" speech? Ewwwww. No. I guess I got lucky there. Please tell me how awful that was hahaha
Comment by Shine on December 15, 2009 at 4:01pm
Oh, Izzy, you totally missed out if you didn't get the "Bride to Jesus" speech! Next to the lamb-shaped cakes covered in shredded coconut, it was the best part about the day! I think that it was prompted by the resemblence of first communion dresses to wedding gowns. Somehow this was supposed to connect the two sacraments I guess? I think that they were hoping to play upon the assumed universality of little girls fantasizing about a white wedding and all; I'm not even going to address the disturbing parallel being drawn between the role of Jesus and one's husband. In reality, all I cared about was the cake.

That sucks about the family pressure. I can understand a bit; as my aunt was a nun and the family in general is very Catholic, it would have been completely unacceptable for me not to participate in first communion. Luckily, at age seven I was easily lured by the promise of a lamb cake. (See how obsessed I still am with this cake, twenty years later? I have already mentioned it like four times in this response.) Eight years later, however, it took quite an extensive guilt trip to get me through confirmation. However, I did have what I considered to be my own personal rebellion: I chose Saint Brigid, the Christianized version of the ancient Irish pagan mother goddess. (At the time, I was really interested in the conflicts that had arisen between paganism and Christianity, and how my family's lineage fit into all of it.)

I can't that believe you got gipped out of a tiara!

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