Everyone starts off enthusiastic about God. Some stay passionate, and stick with it their entire lives. Others become disillusioned, bored, or feel forced into it by family or peers. I’m one of the latter. As a technicality of my parents’ marriage, I converted to Catholicism with my mother when I was six or seven. After the switch was made, I served as an altar girl for several years, prayed the rosary when I remembered to, and read up on all the saints. St. Bernadette was always my favorite.

Eventually, I stopped praying so much when I realized it wasn’t making things better or worse. My family still moved all the time and grammar school continued to be traumatizing. My mother was of the type to stick with her faith no matter what, even when it was having a negative impact on her life. Staying in a marriage ridden with domestic violence and adultery was better for the good of the Church than a divorce. Watching her made me stop going to church altogether, while she continued to spend years getting her marriage annulled so she could start over with the Catholic Church’s blessing.

The decline of my own faith had little to due with which sect I belonged to. The results would have varied but it still would have ended the same. I looked into alternatives. It was the spiritual equivalent of looking for a soul mate; the smallest details made every option fit awkwardly. Other branches of Christianity were all the same cup of coffee with different amounts of sugar. Atheism was too bitter and Buddhism only tasted right in theory—you get the point. Now I’ve decided not to address religion at all instead of trying to define its role in my life.

I’m not at all convinced that the upcoming mergers and closings of local Catholic institutions is the result of its parishioners flocking to a more affluent suburbia. Yes, parishes there are notably flourishing, but that doesn’t account for the general decline of its existing members, active priests, and weekly Mass attendance. Demographics can only determine so much. People don’t nonchalantly change their religions like they change their clothing when they’ve moved away from their preferred church; they simply build new ones. I think the problem is that religion is gradually becoming more of personal choice and less of an obligation.

Older parishioners are upset by these unfortunate adjustments because they feel a connection with the places they’ve poured a considerable amount of their life into. They are people like my mother who find a sense of purpose in their faith, which is a great feeling to have. And then there are people like myself, who are stuck in a place where religion doesn’t hold much weight in their lives. Apathy towards religion’s decline sets in just as quickly as it does when it the subject of voting or animal rights comes into casual conversation. Our main concern is what fits nicely into our lifestyles, our individuality, our personal agendas; a religion that comes with an endless list of rules and regulations to follow has very little appeal to an audience that prefers personal gratification over personal sacrifice. It’s not that people are intending to write religion out of their lives altogether; they are either incorporating it into their lifestyles in a convenient, less restricting manner or waiting until they can find the time to figure out their faith in the first place.

There are a number of religious institutions that are successfully adjusting to the modern day faithful’s demand for personal freedom in every aspect of their lives, even if it means accommodating even the most controversial of lifestyles (Yes—some Christians are finally acknowledging that gay people need God, too). The Catholic Church, however, is not one of these.

Organized faith has slowly, but surely, been losing its ability to generate the same feelings of commitment and purpose in its recent followers, as it has done for the remaining few of these small, struggling parishes like St. Elizabeth. The only way I foresee organized religions like Catholicism salvaging defunct believers such as myself is to evoke this sense of belonging. This task is easier said than done; all the campaigning and prayers in the world can’t create a feeling that isn’t there to begin with. Some sects may work harder than others to ensure their followers keep the faith, but there are a number of ways to find a sense of belonging that caters to your personal beliefs, with or without God. In the end, it’s up to you and no one else.