Sin With Me?

Sin With Me?

When I was a little girl, I’d hear the word “pecado” (sin) on the daily. According to my elders, everything was a pecado. I was raised in a catholic family, and almost everything I did; everything I wanted, everything I thought, everything I DREAMED of, was considered a sin. So much, that I sometimes was afraid of being myself around people because, who knows, breathing might’ve been a sin.

It seemed that all things proven to be good in life were sins. So, I kind of wanted to sin. Sinning seemed like too much fun.

As an adult, effortlessly and shamelessly I “sin.” Guilty as charged. And as long as I’m not hurting anyone (too much) in the process, I am okay with that. Life is about living. To live and learn fully, mistakes are necessary. You can’t limit a human life that way.

I am not trying to discuss “divine laws” — I had this thought in my head today and just quickly wrote about it because I like the word and what it represents, and it’s one of my favorite things to do: sin.

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