My new partner recently asked if I believed in God.
I had heard word of her involvement with the local diocese and had already pegged her as a theist, but certainly not one of the bible thumping hypocrites I am perhaps more familiar with in my forays into the debate. Indeed, her home bears no obvious witness to either her involvement with the Church of England, or her apparent faith.
Her delightful nine year-old daughter had proudly shared her baby album with me - replete with her Christening certificate and cards - that I perused with an established atheistic interest in things religious, and not so much as a murmur of disapproval or outward sign that anything was out of the ordinary. The fact is, I neither disapprove, nor do I think anything was out of the ordinary.
Our relationship is in its infancy, and whilst my response to her question on the existence of God was met with a haughtily condescending, 'Oh, you will.', I feel comfortable that I can be open about my lack of faith without having the walls of some archaic middle-eastern city falling down around our fledgling romance.
Still, the resentment and distrust of atheists runs deep in some people, and I must be mindful to establish as open a dialogue on the true nature of the atheist as I can, without offending her and her family's religious sensibilities.
Upon returning from a very enjoyable and relaxing 36-hour informal meet and greet with her daughter, an article by Digital Cuttlefish on the use of 'tropes' came up in my Google Reader feed. I don't know how many - if any - of these misrepresentations of atheism I shall have to field, but the occurrence of this article may well prove to be timely.
Should my partner ever come to read my blog (and she has expressed an interest), perhaps this article will go some way to dealing with the more stubborn myths that we atheists have to contend with on a daily basis.
