I was raised by a catholic mother and Salvation Army father (his mother was Amish and father was a Quaker, but they joined the Salvation Army) I was not raised religious, but it was always there. We never did church, but the catholic guilt was instilled. I also grew up in a rural NM town where Catholicism permeated everything.
At the age of 6 or 7 I found a book of Norse Mythology and realized that made far more sense to me than anything christian I had ever learned. Gods that walked among humans, that loved humans, that helped humans. But my mother told me they were not real gods and only her god was real, but with no proof. For a number of years I questioned, but always found myself retelling the stories of the Eddas.
Eventually I thought the Church of Satan was the place for me, as I left home I told my mother she had turned me into a Satanist. She was aghast, but for once in my life responded with love instead of hate… or so I thought. She started to force my sisters into church so they would not end up like their godless brother. It worked on one and pushed the other into my Norse beliefs.
I have long since distanced myself from the CoS and fully identify as a Norse Pagan. It pisses my mom off that I call christmas jul/yule despite that being what she always called it when I was a kid.