Matthew van Duyvenbode

I had just recently crashed into secondary school, confronted with a bevy of lifestyle choices that were constantly jockeying for my attention. It wasn’t that I didn’t believe in God any longer – it was more like my spirituality slipped down the agenda, as I discovered more immediately gratifying paths to explore. But my real desire was masked by these surface experiences – the desire to feel popular and well-liked. If I listened to the right music / knew the right people / dated the right girl (the theory went), I would be deemed acceptable by my peers.

Unsurprisingly, each one of these aspects of my chameleon-like identity pleased some people but not others. And more confusingly, I begun to forget what things I really enjoyed, and dreaded certain friends meeting others who knew a very different me. Eventually, the pressure of constantly performing became too burdensome, and things got dark. Over the course of a few months, I craved time on my own and cried in secret. I felt an emptiness in the pit of my stomach that felt like betrayal.

In the midst of this darkness, my sister took me to some church events that she was involved with. At first, I would sit and cynically watch as everybody sung songs and prayed aloud. But one night, following a meeting where somebody had talked about their new fulfilment as a Christian, I sat on my bed, and challenged God to demonstrate himself to me if he really did care about me.

The next day, I woke up feeling like something had changed. I wasn’t happy, but I definitely wasn’t sad either. It was like the mist had begun to clear, and I could do things that might have some significance. In retrospect, I think God had given me the grace to like myself a little more.

I kept attending church meetings, and felt less inhibited about listening to what was being said, and even joined in some of the singing. That summer, I went to a Christian holiday camp on a farm. So far, I had experienced the beginnings of God making a commitment to me, but during this week, I made a commitment to God to try to live my life as though he was my top priority.

Something happened when I made that change. I still carried on with my life, but made sure that I prayed and read my Bible every day. Bit by bit, I began to feel less like my identity rested on what other people thought about me. I stopped smoking spliff to impress people. I was no longer defined by who I was going out with, so I was comfortable to stay single. I stopped tactically underperforming in school, and relaxed into being good at what I was good at.

12 years on, the journey continues for me each day. I go through phases worrying about whether what I say or do is acceptable to other people. I’m a youth worker for the Church, and sometimes what I think or like doing or wearing doesn’t fit what people inside the Church expect either. But the transformation that God has made to my life has been to give me the happiness, fulfillment and confidence to follow my own unique relationship with him, irrespective of the pressures or demands put on me to act like somebody else. I am no longer a scared person behind a mask.

Matthew van Duyvenbode

Northampton Diocesan Youth Worker for Outreach