So, I’m not exactly a person that tells people that I’m Pagan. If it comes up, I’m honest. If it doesn’t, there’s no need. Which explains why most of my friends know that I’m pagan, if not the particulars — they read my various journals, we talk, they see my bookshelves and altars at my house.
My family, is a bit trickier. One brother certainly knows. We have the same friends group and I don’t think anyone in my family is stupid. Which means that the other older brother knows and thankfully doesn’t try to convert me. He’s the priest, so I’m thinking he’ll try to be sneakier about it. We have similar interests, ironically — classical sacred music, Classical History. In fact, he bought me Greek Religion!
My parents, though, I have no idea what they know. They’ve referred to me as an atheist, but they’ve seen my room and house. I think we have a don’t ask, don’t tell policy going on. I’ve been reluctant to say anything because of a few conversations we had when I was a teenager.
A few years after my grandmothers death, I got into a conversation with my dad about what happens after you die. He got angry at the idea of Grandma being reincarnated — “You think your grandmother came back as a bug?” I hadn’t really learned how to argue yet, particularly with angry and distraught people and just shut up and resolved not to tell my family unless they asked.
I got out of confirmation, and stopped taking Communion. And they haven’t said anything other than jokes. I almost feel bad that I haven’t said anything, but then, they haven’t asked, and it’s something I’m fairly private (internet notwithstanding). It’ll happen someday.