On the other hand, religion is an idea. It's a choice. One can choose to no longer be a Christian or a Hindu.
Also, real quick on this.
While religion is an idea and absolutely free to be mocked, it's not always a choice. ...at least, if we're able to agree that the line between "choice" and "not-a-choice" isn't binary, and that simply "choosing" to not follow a religion anymore isn't always as simple as choosing what clothes to wear every morning.
Consider the famous addict's mantra, "I can quit whenever I want!" I've only ever heard this phrase used in parody, and so have always known that it signifies dependence, and is a self-deception. The addict cannot quit whenever they want; they've lost the bulk of their own agency on the matter. As someone who has compulsive behaviors, as well as very strong anxieties, some of which border on phobias, over certain everyday things(including, of all bloody things,
talking on the phone), I relate to this very strongly.
That's a rather sobering example that I think would apply to people who follow certain religions because of an abusive upbringing, or having fallen in with a very dangerous cult.
A less sobering example might be something I heard in a documentary once. A swordsmith was interviewed for the documentary "Secrets of the Viking Sword" about his craft. He said of why he does it, his words, "It's not that I can't
do anything else, it's that I
can't do anything else." I can relate to this sentiment as well; even though I grew up in an areligious household, with the only tangentially religious stuff around being some vague notion of "Heaven" as the place in the sky where people go after they die, a vague notion of angels which is what these dead people became, and a vague notion of "God", whose name was a bad word (not really, I completely misunderstood something my dad had said), but who was kind of the angels' "king".
Now, I didn't really focus on this "God", but did focus a lot on these angels, almost as if they were Gods themselves. Even though I was raised in an areligious household in hyper-monotheist America (with several churches in my hometown including a Catholic one that used to chime the hour more regularly), I was exhibiting what I recognize in hindsight to be polytheistic-like behavior(specifically of the ancestral-reverence form). Because of this, polytheism of some sort is actually more important to my identity than race, nationality, or gender, none of which I particularly care about. Sure, I could "choose" to not be polytheist anymore, but it would involve quite the psychological ordeal that would leave me too scarred to be worth it.