I’ve always leaned toward atheism.

Not in a militant or superior way—but more from a deep belief that religion, at its core, is a rationalisation of existential fear.
It gives people certainty in an uncertain world.
It offers meaning, morality, community, answers to death, suffering, and the chaos of life.

And honestly, I respect that.

But lately, I’ve been watching a lot of content online—specifically around Muscular Christianity.
One figure, Bob, stands out. He debates Muslims in public spaces, dissects the Qur’an, points out logical fallacies, and essentially argues that Christianity is intellectually superior.

At first, I respected his clarity. His confidence. His composure.
He looks sharp, sounds intelligent, and clearly knows how to take apart weak arguments.
But over time, something began to feel… off.

Is It About Truth? Or About Power?

Bob often debates people who aren’t particularly well-versed in their own faith.
He wins, but the win feels hollow—like he’s less interested in real dialogue and more interested in performing dominance.

And that’s where I start to feel uncomfortable.

Because if religion is a personal belief system, is it ever okay to push your faith onto others, even if you’re convinced you’re right?

At the same time, if someone’s belief is rooted in violence, oppression, or misinformation—don’t we have a responsibility to challenge it?

That’s the tension I’m sitting with:

“Where’s the line between respecting belief and questioning it?”

When Belief Becomes Dangerous

It’s easy to say “everyone has a right to believe what they want.”
And I do believe that.

But what happens when those beliefs:

  • Justify the suppression of women,
  • Endorse violence toward non-believers,
  • Frame dissent as evil,
  • Or encourage psychological or physical harm?

Is silence then a form of complicity?

Is it wrong to question beliefs if doing so might challenge a person’s entire worldview—or are we obligated to speak up when those beliefs perpetuate harm?

These aren’t easy questions.

Why I Still Struggle With Religion

For me, no religion fully survives under the weight of intellectual scrutiny.
Not because all believers are unintelligent—but because faith often lives outside of reason.

It’s myth.
It’s metaphor.
It’s symbolic language for things that logic alone can’t hold.

I’ve always seen that as a weakness.

But lately, I’m wondering if that’s where its power lies too.

Could I Be Wrong?

That’s the difference between Bob and me.

He debates with certainty.
I live with doubt.

But maybe that doubt is its own kind of reverence.
Maybe it’s not about proving a religion wrong—but about asking:

  • What are you really seeking?
  • What does this belief offer you that life hasn’t?
  • What happens when belief is used as a shield against pain—or a weapon against others?

What I Believe Now

I still don’t believe in a personal god.

I still see religion, for many, as a container for existential terror.

But I also believe:

  • You can question beliefs without attacking people.
  • You can hold your values without needing others to validate them.
  • You can speak up when beliefs cause harm, and still respect someone’s right to believe.

Because the truth is:

I don’t care what someone believes—until their belief starts hurting others.

And when it does, yes, it’s fair to challenge it.
Not to win.
Not to feel superior.
But because integrity matters.

Final Thought

Maybe religion isn’t meant to survive intellectual honesty.

Maybe it’s meant to transform under it.

And maybe the real goal isn’t to dismantle belief systems—but to strip away what’s harmful, and leave behind what still helps people live with kindness, courage, and grace.

I don’t have answers.
But I’m okay with that.

Because sometimes, not knowing is the most honest thing we can do.