In the waning days of 1976, I stood at the altar with several other seekers and converted to Catholicism. With the promise of spring and spiritual rebirth, I accepted myriad papal edicts, even if I didn't always exult over them.
Thirty-seven winters later, I wept in horror while viewing the movie "Philomena" the true story of a young Catholic girl whose child was adopted without her knowledge. While a resident (i.e., indentured slave) of the infamous "laundries" for "wayward" girls, Philomena was forced to give birth under despicable circumstances.
I left the church after 13 years. I learned long ago of the Magdalene facilities and of my former church succoring pedophiles so the disillusionment is probably at an apex by this point.