I remember my first real confession, at church. I remember the whole thing seeming a bit strange to me at the time. The idea that surely I had done something wrong, and needed to ask forgiveness. I had a hard time thinking up a confession, and it was a pretty lame one. I thought I was a good boy, but they told me no, you have done wrong and must confess something. But I didn't feel that I had done anything wrong, so I had to fake it, I had to lie about it to the priest and pretend I was sorry for this thing I didn't even do, this made up confession. I mean, what will that do to a 12 year old boy? All under the watchful eye of the creator, of course. The indoctrination happens before we can help it! Now I am free, but not really of course. I know those scars run deep.