Unraveling the Lie: How Christianity Disconnected Us from the Earth and Ourselves

For over two thousand years, a story has dominated the human psyche: that a man named Jesus died to save us from our sins. But I can’t speak for the last two thousand years—I can only speak for the 38 I’ve lived. And in those years, I’ve seen firsthand the damage that story can do. Not just Christianity, but any system or religion that claims to have found God outside the self—any belief that tells us divinity is distant, separate, or reserved for the chosen—has, in my experience, only brought destruction. It tried to kill who I was. It severed my connection to the Earth. It stripped away the sacred mysteries of my own body and replaced them with shame, self-hate, and division. That inner division spilled outward—into my relationships, into my view of the world—and left me suicidally lonely despite appearing to have everything.

So what if this story—repeated so often it became law—was never salvation at all? What if it was separation?

The rise of Christianity marked not just a shift in theology, but a fundamental reprogramming of our spiritual DNA. Its spread didn’t come through harmonious integration with the beliefs that preceded it; it came through domination, suppression, and guilt. And nowhere is this more evident than in Egypt—the cradle of some of the world’s most ancient and Earth-centered wisdom.

Continue reading how I began unraveling the lie and how christianity slowly and incidiously disconnected us from the earth and ourselves.

Unraveling the Lie: How Christianity Disconnected Us from the Earth and Ourselves

The Fall of Ancient Wisdom

Before Christianity, spiritual traditions were deeply rooted in nature. In Egypt, gods and goddesses were extensions of the Nile, the stars, the animals, the elements. Temples were aligned with celestial bodies, rituals honored the turning of seasons, and mummification wasn’t just embalming—it was preparation for reunion with the divine cosmos.

But when Christianity arrived in Egypt around the 1st century CE, it didn’t co-exist—it competed. Unlike the polytheistic traditions that often blended and evolved together, Christianity’s strict monotheism demanded exclusivity. What couldn’t be absorbed was erased.

The Edict of Milan in 313 CE legalized Christianity, and by the end of the 4th century, Emperor Theodosius I declared it the official state religion. Paganism was outlawed. Temples were shuttered. Sacred rituals were banned. Religious violence became justified under the banner of “truth.” The gods of Egypt were turned into demons, their worshippers persecuted, their sacred art defaced.

The message was clear: your gods are dead, and your way of life must die with them.

The Curse of Salvation

Christianity replaced embodied reverence with disembodied belief. The Earth, once sacred, became “fallen.” The body, once divine, became sinful. Pleasure, once a portal to the gods, became a path to hell. The myth of original sin told us we were wrong just for being born—and then offered a single, exclusive path to redemption.

This wasn’t liberation. It was colonization of the soul.

The empire that had crucified Jesus used his image to create a new world order. A church-state alliance was born, one that converted not by inspiration but by coercion. The old ways—matriarchal, nature-honoring, multi-dimensional—were labeled heresy. What followed was centuries of colonization, crusades, witch hunts, and spiritual amnesia.

We forgot who we were.

But the Earth Remembers

And now? The spell is breaking.

Christianity, for all its staying power, is losing its grip. The pews are emptying. The myths are cracking. The shame is lifting. And something wild and beautiful is growing in its place: a return.

Across the world, people are reclaiming indigenous traditions. Ancient goddess worship is reemerging. Astrology, plant medicine, energy work, and animistic philosophies are no longer fringe—they are resurging like ancestral memory breaking through the fog. We are remembering the old ways not because they’re trendy, but because they are true.

The Earth is sacred.

Our bodies are holy.

The divine lives in the rivers, in the stars, and in us.

The Lie Was Never Ours to Carry

The truth is, we never needed to be saved. What we needed was to be seen. To be in relationship—with nature, with each other, with the parts of ourselves that religion taught us to fear.

The return of our original religions is not a rebellion. It’s a resurrection. The gods never died. They were buried under layers of doctrine and shame, waiting for us to dig deep enough to find them again—in the soil, in the sky, in our own bones.

This is not about hating Christianity. It’s about healing from what it took from us.

It’s about finally putting down the guilt, the fear, and the cross—and picking up the drum, the flower, the fire.

The new age isn’t coming. It’s already here. And it’s ancient.

What all this means for me

All of this didn’t just land on me—it traveled through centuries to reach me. It echoed through pulpits, through parents, through institutions that were supposed to offer love but instead delivered fear. And when I internalize that fear—when I disconnect from others, from the Earth, and from my own nature—I collapse. I depress myself. I shrink. I lose access to the creative fire that once burned so brightly in me.

My parents once burned hundreds of my poems because they believed I was demon-possessed. They mistook the sacred for the sinful. And so much of my recent work—especially the sexually expressive art that shocks even me—has been an act of sacred rebellion. I created a mock porn persona. I even filmed a real porno. I reshaped my coaching practice for a time to fully embody the man I was always told not to be. And through that wild experiment, I didn’t fall apart—I came home to myself.

By facing the so-called demons my family feared, I didn’t become possessed—I became whole. What once felt like chaos became communion. What was once shame became sacred. I no longer feel at war within myself, and that has made peace possible with others too.

And if this can happen in one soul, I believe it can happen across the collective. The religious fear that’s kept humanity in chains is beginning to crack. The spell is weakening. It’s time to disentangle from the lie, to reclaim the truth, and to return to the essence of what it means to be alive.

It's time to be free.

To be whole.

To be one..