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When I was little, there's was a carved portrait of St. Martin de Porres on a particular wall in my room. I used to think that the guy in the carved portrait was actually what God looked like. So, to me, God was a black man wearing white robes. However, I had a kid's Bible of the white Jesus variety (to those who still don't know: Jesus was a Middle Eastern man, what with being a Palestinian Jew and all) so I thought Jesus and all other characters from the Bible were actually legitimately pink people with funny noses. Thus, the Holy Trinity: black God, pink Jesus, and a white dove for the Holy Spirit.
I used to believe God was real.
When I was five, we sang a hymn in the school hall every Friday and one of the hymns said "tell me who made the world" - I thought 'tellmewho' was the name of a person and that this person made the world, lol! Later on I thought Tellmewho was another name for God... I was seven when I realised "tell me who" is three separate words!!
When I was little I used to believe that thunder was God moving his furniture, when it rained God was crying, when it snowed God was mopping his floors and lightning was the light switch going on and off in heaven.
When I was a little kid I though that the idea of hell was very satisfying, I legitimately wanted to go to hell. Actually, I was so obsessed with Satan and hell that I would draw pictures of hell, and listen to slayer. I look back at my weird self and laugh, but in all actuality, a kid who is a satanist is pretty rad.
Because of all those fat Buddha images (which, by the way, don't depict the actual Buddha), I used to believe that Buddhism was all about gaining weight. Ironically, I've ended up becoming a Buddhist myself - and I'm still skinny!
I used to believe that God looked like "The Head" from Art Attack. I don't know where in the world this belief came from...
For a long time after I had the Sunday school lesson on "God formed Adam from the dust of the earth" I thought parents made their babies out of dirt and the color of the dirt used was how skin color was determined
I used to believe that when it was raining God was crying.
Before I was born my parents had a "painter" paint a mural in my room of angels. For some reason this marvelous painter painted a bunch of little angels with 6 fingers on each hand. As I grew up I thought it was a common known fact that all Angels had 6 fingers.