“I attended an all-girls Catholic High School in Philadelphia. We wore maroon jumpsuits that were forbidden to rise above the knee.
My mom is a devout Catholic with a large portrait of the Virgin Mary hanging in our dining room; crosses hung above every door. My father’s mentor and role model was a Catholic priest. Not only did I have to confess my sins to Father George on a weekly basis, but I was also scolded if I ever missed church or even showed up late.
I was not given any option on what to believe or how to live my life, other than the teachings of the Catholic Church; it was the religion of my family, and therefore my religion, as well.
Even after spending eight years at a Catholic elementary school, I still had so many unanswered questions.
What if I wasn’t sure what I believed exactly?
Why were my doubts met with reprimands as opposed to information?
I remember going home after an especially hard day in religion class and telling my parents that I was unsure if I really wanted to be a Catholic.
While they were extremely disappointed, they were more baffled than anything. They never expected me or my sisters to question their lifelong beliefs.
What I really wanted was just to have options in what I learned about life, options about what I believed, and options on how I lived my life.”
As her story unfolds, Isabella discovers hearing her soul for the first time as she moves to different cities and begins to ask deeper questions about her path.