you know, whenever we do something...we should think of why we are doing it. when i started this blog, it was because i needed to remember and get things that were buried for so long out of my system.
i feel it has helped me do that a lot and but for a few more incidents that i cant forget, i have relayed most of those moments that would haunt me the most. and once they are out - it feels good to know i let them out.
my last few posts have been significantly different from the first few...anyone following this blog can see it. in fact, introducing phase 2 i think paints a different picture...one that shows the extent of succumbing to the relationship i experienced...I believe it is a survival mechanism when u feel u can no longer get out.
and truly - starting this blog was very much about me sharing the story bc i truly feel that its an under-reported and under-discussed reality.
...regardless...i wont lie. sometimes i ask myself why i am writing this. and even if writing helps me, why is this blog online? why am i writing this? what is my intention? are they pure intentions?
i dont know.
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
everything happens for a reason.
If we live our life upholding the belief that everything happens for a reason, it can truly offer a deep sense of comfort….it provides solace to know that when things happen, especially things that we might perceive as bad, have a purpose...a positive purpose. That reason is most often not immediately known to us…and sometimes we wont know for years…and sometimes we will never know. But, simply internalizing that there is so much our limited capabilities veil us from understanding, and that God loves us and has our best interests in mind always…we can rest assured that whatever happened was not supposed to happen in any other the way than the way it did.
In Islam, there is a prayer known as Salatal Isthikhara. In that prayer, a person facing some kind of decision in life prays to God for guidance, and to make whatever course of action that is the best for that individual, blessed…and if it is bad, then you are asking God to move you away from it. During my final year in high school I believe, I was going through major major questioning of this relationship. I prayed salatal ishikhara for guidance on whether I should pull myself out of the relationship, or remain within it. I remember one day that I prayed it….I was in my mom’s room…I prayed it with so much conviction and so many tears. And, as soon as I finished, a significant sense of calm overtook me. For some reason, at that moment I felt that God wanted me to be in that relationship…and that it was better for me. This was the start of phase 2. I finally thought that yes, God knows what is best for me…and this is what I should be in.
Thereafter, I asked him to take me to an imam (a spiritual leader) so that we may become married in God’s presence ….I wanted nothing more than to stop feeling that I was doing something wrong…and if this was what was best for me, then I wanted to make it as legitimate as possible. He never took me to an imam…we went to a couple of mosques but he always said that the imam was not there. Then he introduced the idea of muta’a…a temporary marriage contract that certain shia’a sects believe in. I was not convinced...but it sounded like the lesser of two evils. Soon enough we did muta’a…and as with a normal marriage, he provided me with a dowry and I laid stipulations of marriage terms…one of which was that the ‘marriage’ would never be consummated. This is what caused me to feel less guilty and allowed me to lower my guard. It is what caused me to forget the stress I experienced for the first five years of the relationship while in high school. I still felt guilty deep inside…but I managed to convince myself otherwise. We would renew this contract year after year…until one day I decided I wanted it no more.
Now...if everything happens for a reason…then everything happens for a reason. I will never be able to understand truly…but there are many things I can think of. Post high school, I was going to be living away from home for the first time….who knows who I would have met during that time, and what could have happened if circumstances were different. Having him meant that my life was busy and any free time I did have I devoted to him rather than to anyone or anything else. He taught me a lot…about religion and life. And, ever since the beginning…it was my struggles with this relationship and the internal battles that I experienced which brought me closer to God. Never once, during all the pain, did I ever get mad at God. I went to Him for solace and comfort…I was mad at myself…and knowing God was there for me made me truly love Him and my faith. And now that I am able to look at this relationship in retrospect, I am drawn even more closer to God as I seek forgiveness and seek understanding of what occurred. And, given the anger and sadness I feel when I remember how it all started….I feel a sense of wanting to serve…to do what I can to open the eyes of people that need to have their eyes opened, and whose eyes I can open. I want to serve my mother. I want to serve myself by being the best person I can be to make up for the lost time.
But why am I rationalizing? There is no need to rationalize. Everything that happened was meant for me to experience exactly the way it did. Sometimes I spend hours rereading the posts I have written on this blog…and for some reason, I keep on doing that every once in a while. I always remember Khalil Gibran’s quote that ‘pain is self-chosen’ - reading them often puts me at a different level…most often feelings of hurt and sorrow surface….sometimes anger…but I can’t help myself. And I suppose one day I will understand better why I keep on reminding myself and why I put myself through those feelings. Who knows what the future has in store…perhaps the training in life that he gave me will be the best of lessons learned…maybe I will face a situation in the future which I will be able to overcome…especially emotionally…because I have been through it before and I know what to expect and how to control it. Who knows? All I know is that Allah loves me. And He knows my heart.
A friend of mine told me once that humans are meant to sin because it causes us to return to Him stronger so long as we manage things in the right way. And lessons we learn from our sins are applied throughout our entire life…and applied too, when we interact with others and advise them. They never leave us because they shape us. And, when we experience pain, God is the most compassionate…and through it, is trying to ease our entry to heaven. We just need to have more foresight...we need to remember this life is transitory and that there is an eternity that is to be faced by us. And, we would rather it be blissful….and if pain means rahma (mercy)…if after every isr there is yusr (after every hardship comes ease)…then we must be grateful for the wisdom behind the understanding that everything happens for a reason.
No child should experience such pain and confusion…but who am I kidding? How many children experience mountains worse than what I did on a daily basis. It is life…and God is perfect…there are just imperfect people in this world. Vile too. But this is life. Its about what we do about it that matters. How do we take control?
A few posts before I wrote about how ironic it is that the one leading to light can be the same as the one paving one's way to hell...perhaps vice versa is better...that there is nothing more ironic than the one paving the way to hell also being the one leading the way to light. I do believe that a lot of bad can lead to good…sometimes it’s meant to happen that way.
Sometimes when I reread my posts, I have a smile in my heart. I remember those feelings, and look at my life and myself right now...and just smile. I made it :) It was meant to be. God is Greater.
In Islam, there is a prayer known as Salatal Isthikhara. In that prayer, a person facing some kind of decision in life prays to God for guidance, and to make whatever course of action that is the best for that individual, blessed…and if it is bad, then you are asking God to move you away from it. During my final year in high school I believe, I was going through major major questioning of this relationship. I prayed salatal ishikhara for guidance on whether I should pull myself out of the relationship, or remain within it. I remember one day that I prayed it….I was in my mom’s room…I prayed it with so much conviction and so many tears. And, as soon as I finished, a significant sense of calm overtook me. For some reason, at that moment I felt that God wanted me to be in that relationship…and that it was better for me. This was the start of phase 2. I finally thought that yes, God knows what is best for me…and this is what I should be in.
Thereafter, I asked him to take me to an imam (a spiritual leader) so that we may become married in God’s presence ….I wanted nothing more than to stop feeling that I was doing something wrong…and if this was what was best for me, then I wanted to make it as legitimate as possible. He never took me to an imam…we went to a couple of mosques but he always said that the imam was not there. Then he introduced the idea of muta’a…a temporary marriage contract that certain shia’a sects believe in. I was not convinced...but it sounded like the lesser of two evils. Soon enough we did muta’a…and as with a normal marriage, he provided me with a dowry and I laid stipulations of marriage terms…one of which was that the ‘marriage’ would never be consummated. This is what caused me to feel less guilty and allowed me to lower my guard. It is what caused me to forget the stress I experienced for the first five years of the relationship while in high school. I still felt guilty deep inside…but I managed to convince myself otherwise. We would renew this contract year after year…until one day I decided I wanted it no more.
Now...if everything happens for a reason…then everything happens for a reason. I will never be able to understand truly…but there are many things I can think of. Post high school, I was going to be living away from home for the first time….who knows who I would have met during that time, and what could have happened if circumstances were different. Having him meant that my life was busy and any free time I did have I devoted to him rather than to anyone or anything else. He taught me a lot…about religion and life. And, ever since the beginning…it was my struggles with this relationship and the internal battles that I experienced which brought me closer to God. Never once, during all the pain, did I ever get mad at God. I went to Him for solace and comfort…I was mad at myself…and knowing God was there for me made me truly love Him and my faith. And now that I am able to look at this relationship in retrospect, I am drawn even more closer to God as I seek forgiveness and seek understanding of what occurred. And, given the anger and sadness I feel when I remember how it all started….I feel a sense of wanting to serve…to do what I can to open the eyes of people that need to have their eyes opened, and whose eyes I can open. I want to serve my mother. I want to serve myself by being the best person I can be to make up for the lost time.
But why am I rationalizing? There is no need to rationalize. Everything that happened was meant for me to experience exactly the way it did. Sometimes I spend hours rereading the posts I have written on this blog…and for some reason, I keep on doing that every once in a while. I always remember Khalil Gibran’s quote that ‘pain is self-chosen’ - reading them often puts me at a different level…most often feelings of hurt and sorrow surface….sometimes anger…but I can’t help myself. And I suppose one day I will understand better why I keep on reminding myself and why I put myself through those feelings. Who knows what the future has in store…perhaps the training in life that he gave me will be the best of lessons learned…maybe I will face a situation in the future which I will be able to overcome…especially emotionally…because I have been through it before and I know what to expect and how to control it. Who knows? All I know is that Allah loves me. And He knows my heart.
A friend of mine told me once that humans are meant to sin because it causes us to return to Him stronger so long as we manage things in the right way. And lessons we learn from our sins are applied throughout our entire life…and applied too, when we interact with others and advise them. They never leave us because they shape us. And, when we experience pain, God is the most compassionate…and through it, is trying to ease our entry to heaven. We just need to have more foresight...we need to remember this life is transitory and that there is an eternity that is to be faced by us. And, we would rather it be blissful….and if pain means rahma (mercy)…if after every isr there is yusr (after every hardship comes ease)…then we must be grateful for the wisdom behind the understanding that everything happens for a reason.
No child should experience such pain and confusion…but who am I kidding? How many children experience mountains worse than what I did on a daily basis. It is life…and God is perfect…there are just imperfect people in this world. Vile too. But this is life. Its about what we do about it that matters. How do we take control?
A few posts before I wrote about how ironic it is that the one leading to light can be the same as the one paving one's way to hell...perhaps vice versa is better...that there is nothing more ironic than the one paving the way to hell also being the one leading the way to light. I do believe that a lot of bad can lead to good…sometimes it’s meant to happen that way.
Sometimes when I reread my posts, I have a smile in my heart. I remember those feelings, and look at my life and myself right now...and just smile. I made it :) It was meant to be. God is Greater.
Thursday, December 9, 2010
Perspective
When I think of how I approach everything in life...whether it is my studies, my faith, my growth, my passions, my hobbies...for me, it is all about proving something to myself. I envision a brick wall that I am breaking with a chisel with my own hand. Everything for me is about proving to myself that I can do it by labouring at it...even traveling or my new found karate passion is about me facing a brick wall that I must break. I view my life as a set of internal challenges that I must overcome for myself. It is about proving to myself that I am strong enough. I have adopted this perspective because of him. For so many years of my life I was fighting an internal battle with myself. Everything was about me fighting myself. And till today, I approach life thinking of one battle after the next. I hope that this perspective will change...I think it may very well be changing already. Life shouldn't be about fighting all the time...everything that is meant to be will be. I wish sometimes I could just sit back and watch life just unfold. Perhaps one day I will reach this stage.
Having said that, I want to put things into perspective. I suppose there are two ways that people go through hardship in their life. For some, it encapsulates them and defines their entire existence. For others, it is part of their life...a major one...but in reflection it is recognized that it just one portion of their life. I fall into this latter category.
By Allah, I have had mountains and mountains of blessings in my life and I recognize them. I have had an amazing life Alhamdulillah...I have a supportive family and I feel I have been able to accomplish a lot. Allah has opened doors of opportunity and ease for me that a lifetime of prostration is inadequate to give Him thanks for what I have been granted. Beautiful people have entered into my life, and I am ever grateful for this.
This relationship did define things for me...but it defined things for me on the inside. Inside I was angry, guilty, and hurting. Inside I hated myself and could not supplicate for myself because I felt dirty and unworthy. But outside, and truly, I was not in a state of depression. On the contrary, and I have mentioned this before, I have been, and am, a very happy person Alhamdulillah. There was just this huge secret I was hiding and my struggles were purely internal...a battle with myself. Other than that, my life outside was a perfect life Alhamdulillah...this relationship did not inhibit me from developing a zest for living and having multitudes of moments of genuine happiness. My life was and is amazing. My battle, the battle that I share with you, was my own struggle in my heart.
When I recount these stories, it helps ease the suffering I experienced inside. But this relationship did not inhibit me for loving life and living in comfort. I am grateful that this was the extent of my trial...it is by God's grace that it did not infiltrate into my external affairs. I know for some, their experiences do take over all aspects of their life. May God grant them strength...I do not know how I would have handled things if it was like that for me.
I think it is important that I make this distinction apparent...I do not want to seem ungrateful for the life I have had. It is important for me to make sure I keep things in perspective. Have I been able to articulate this distinction? Am I making sense?
Having said that, I want to put things into perspective. I suppose there are two ways that people go through hardship in their life. For some, it encapsulates them and defines their entire existence. For others, it is part of their life...a major one...but in reflection it is recognized that it just one portion of their life. I fall into this latter category.
By Allah, I have had mountains and mountains of blessings in my life and I recognize them. I have had an amazing life Alhamdulillah...I have a supportive family and I feel I have been able to accomplish a lot. Allah has opened doors of opportunity and ease for me that a lifetime of prostration is inadequate to give Him thanks for what I have been granted. Beautiful people have entered into my life, and I am ever grateful for this.
This relationship did define things for me...but it defined things for me on the inside. Inside I was angry, guilty, and hurting. Inside I hated myself and could not supplicate for myself because I felt dirty and unworthy. But outside, and truly, I was not in a state of depression. On the contrary, and I have mentioned this before, I have been, and am, a very happy person Alhamdulillah. There was just this huge secret I was hiding and my struggles were purely internal...a battle with myself. Other than that, my life outside was a perfect life Alhamdulillah...this relationship did not inhibit me from developing a zest for living and having multitudes of moments of genuine happiness. My life was and is amazing. My battle, the battle that I share with you, was my own struggle in my heart.
When I recount these stories, it helps ease the suffering I experienced inside. But this relationship did not inhibit me for loving life and living in comfort. I am grateful that this was the extent of my trial...it is by God's grace that it did not infiltrate into my external affairs. I know for some, their experiences do take over all aspects of their life. May God grant them strength...I do not know how I would have handled things if it was like that for me.
I think it is important that I make this distinction apparent...I do not want to seem ungrateful for the life I have had. It is important for me to make sure I keep things in perspective. Have I been able to articulate this distinction? Am I making sense?
his words.
"it is Allah's will i know. my hurting heart will never show the eerie sadness that will loom it. my prayers will be from now on that inshallah with Allah's will, somewhere sometime our paths cross. One thing i promise u my sweetheart i will always try to wear a smile on my face. will truly miss ur shining face. it will be the hardest test of my life. maybe a blessing in disguise, allah's test on me. pray for me always. its ur time now to pray".
These were his last words to me on an sms message after I had decided to end the relationship and moved overseas. At that time, I truly believed that he was a forsaken love and that our love was our blessing - because it was so special - but also our curse - because we could not be. Now I realize it was just wrong. All wrong. Overtime I grew blinded and brainwashed...and it is now that Allah has truly opened my heart and put the whole entire relationship into perspective. Alhamdulillah for this.
But, lets look at his words to me. It's 'the hardest test of [his] life'...'Allah's test on [him]'. This is what he sees my absence from his life as - or at least that is what he saw it then. Maybe he was not well? I do not understand...maybe he was just as blinded as I was in post high school phase? Did he really see nothing wrong with the relationship? Does he see anything wrong with it now?
I wonder if one day, if ever the circumstances permit, how he would reply if I ask him 'Why?...why?...why especially when I was so young?' I was honestly robbed off my childhood. I grew up very fast...unnecessarily. And, it was unnecessary because I grew up in adult ways when I should have been growing up in progression instead.
I remember once, a couple of years into the relationship while I was still in high school, that I had made another one of my attempts to leave him. I must have written him a letter. The next time I saw him, his hand was wrapped. He told me that he had taken a knife and cut his hand - I believe his left. The cut was on his palm, from the corner where the thumb meets the index, to his wrist - diagonally. He told me that he was mad at himself for feeling this way about me but he can't help it. His sorry eyes melted my heart...his cut palm made me believe he was helpless. And so, I remained in the relationship. Again.
I do not understand. Did he or did he not see anything wrong with our relationship? Does he think it was wrong now?
These were his last words to me on an sms message after I had decided to end the relationship and moved overseas. At that time, I truly believed that he was a forsaken love and that our love was our blessing - because it was so special - but also our curse - because we could not be. Now I realize it was just wrong. All wrong. Overtime I grew blinded and brainwashed...and it is now that Allah has truly opened my heart and put the whole entire relationship into perspective. Alhamdulillah for this.
But, lets look at his words to me. It's 'the hardest test of [his] life'...'Allah's test on [him]'. This is what he sees my absence from his life as - or at least that is what he saw it then. Maybe he was not well? I do not understand...maybe he was just as blinded as I was in post high school phase? Did he really see nothing wrong with the relationship? Does he see anything wrong with it now?
I wonder if one day, if ever the circumstances permit, how he would reply if I ask him 'Why?...why?...why especially when I was so young?' I was honestly robbed off my childhood. I grew up very fast...unnecessarily. And, it was unnecessary because I grew up in adult ways when I should have been growing up in progression instead.
I remember once, a couple of years into the relationship while I was still in high school, that I had made another one of my attempts to leave him. I must have written him a letter. The next time I saw him, his hand was wrapped. He told me that he had taken a knife and cut his hand - I believe his left. The cut was on his palm, from the corner where the thumb meets the index, to his wrist - diagonally. He told me that he was mad at himself for feeling this way about me but he can't help it. His sorry eyes melted my heart...his cut palm made me believe he was helpless. And so, I remained in the relationship. Again.
I do not understand. Did he or did he not see anything wrong with our relationship? Does he think it was wrong now?
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
Dodge-Mom
I had it again…the same type of dream. I have not been getting a lot of sleep these past few days. You know…one of the worst dreams for me to have is a ‘feeling dream’. They are the dreams where you replay feelings that you once felt…negative feelings. They come out while you are sleeping and you feel them to be so real…you feel the same anxiety that you once felt years ago. It is very exhausting.
One of the worst feelings for me throughout this whole relationship was the fear that my mother would find out. My nightmares during high school or when I was at home from university during the summers, would be of him being in my bedroom or in the basement, while my mom is asleep in her room…she would then wake up and somehow even though she senses something…nothing happens. Either she doesn’t see him because he runs away and I cover the tracks, or he makes up a lie and she buys it, or, circumstances make it so that things were not able to be apparent to her.
Today, when I hear any lecture or anyone speak about parents…especially mothers…I am brought to a state of weakness instantly. I wasted so many years. Instead of loving my mother…I resented her. I was hurt by her. I was afraid of her. I was running away from her. And he would say things that would make me believe she is a bad mother to me. He would fill my head with stories about how my mother loved my siblings more than I….that I had a purer heart than my mother…that she was evil. He would say that I was more mature than my own mother - that my mom controlled me to the extent that I was mothering my own mother. Yes…for the duration of the relationship, this is what he would say. And I suppose he would go through moments of guilt for filling my mind with these stories because every once in a while he would ask ‘who loves you most in the world?’…when I said him, he would say ‘No, its your mother’. A contradiction. So many contradictions.
In today’s dream, the same thing happened. I was in my home doing some work. He then comes over and asks me to go to the next room. He has made sure no one is at home and wants to get intimate. I am disgusted. I do not want to do this again. He is weak and needy…I told him…”enjoy this because this is the last time you will see me like this. I’m done. This, you won’t see again,” as I pointed to my body…and it looked the way it does now. “I’m done” I told him. “I’m done”.
Before anything happens we hear a sound – I go out of the room and subhnallah my mom is on the couch. She apparently came back home and acted like she was napping for a while. She says I heard his voice..I said, “Who? Mom, you’re hearing things” – and while I am talking to my mom he slips out of the room and runs away. I am burdened by the fact that I was so close to being caught, but even more in pain that my mom buys my story. Each time she bought my story.
Alas, though….in my dream I told him “I’m done”…and I truly believe I am done Alhamdulillah. That’s it. I am not afraid of him anymore…and I only recount these memories to get them off my chest forever, and to help whoever is reading if possible. God has opened a new path for me...and I can have a future without feeling the burden of guilt towards Him because of this relationship, Inshallah.
I am hoping that somehow I serve my mother in ways she cannot imagine…so that I may be internally cleansed from the years of hate he made me feel towards her; for my anger towards her for not noticing; and, for all those years and years of lies…deception…running away…I was a fugitive…the best of con-artists. I played dodge-mom for almost ten years of my life. Its time for her now. She is my door to heaven. It was not her fault…I was a good liar, as was he…and she just couldn’t see. It’s not her fault.
Sometimes we look to others to blame for our problems. But, quite frankly, sometimes things just happen. Either way everything happens for a reason. Maybe the reason why my mother didn’t notice was because she was not supposed to. What am I going to do with my life now that I am stronger, and now that I can look back as an observer? Who needs to hear this story and who do I need to touch through the lessons it gave me?
One of the worst feelings for me throughout this whole relationship was the fear that my mother would find out. My nightmares during high school or when I was at home from university during the summers, would be of him being in my bedroom or in the basement, while my mom is asleep in her room…she would then wake up and somehow even though she senses something…nothing happens. Either she doesn’t see him because he runs away and I cover the tracks, or he makes up a lie and she buys it, or, circumstances make it so that things were not able to be apparent to her.
Today, when I hear any lecture or anyone speak about parents…especially mothers…I am brought to a state of weakness instantly. I wasted so many years. Instead of loving my mother…I resented her. I was hurt by her. I was afraid of her. I was running away from her. And he would say things that would make me believe she is a bad mother to me. He would fill my head with stories about how my mother loved my siblings more than I….that I had a purer heart than my mother…that she was evil. He would say that I was more mature than my own mother - that my mom controlled me to the extent that I was mothering my own mother. Yes…for the duration of the relationship, this is what he would say. And I suppose he would go through moments of guilt for filling my mind with these stories because every once in a while he would ask ‘who loves you most in the world?’…when I said him, he would say ‘No, its your mother’. A contradiction. So many contradictions.
In today’s dream, the same thing happened. I was in my home doing some work. He then comes over and asks me to go to the next room. He has made sure no one is at home and wants to get intimate. I am disgusted. I do not want to do this again. He is weak and needy…I told him…”enjoy this because this is the last time you will see me like this. I’m done. This, you won’t see again,” as I pointed to my body…and it looked the way it does now. “I’m done” I told him. “I’m done”.
Before anything happens we hear a sound – I go out of the room and subhnallah my mom is on the couch. She apparently came back home and acted like she was napping for a while. She says I heard his voice..I said, “Who? Mom, you’re hearing things” – and while I am talking to my mom he slips out of the room and runs away. I am burdened by the fact that I was so close to being caught, but even more in pain that my mom buys my story. Each time she bought my story.
Alas, though….in my dream I told him “I’m done”…and I truly believe I am done Alhamdulillah. That’s it. I am not afraid of him anymore…and I only recount these memories to get them off my chest forever, and to help whoever is reading if possible. God has opened a new path for me...and I can have a future without feeling the burden of guilt towards Him because of this relationship, Inshallah.
I am hoping that somehow I serve my mother in ways she cannot imagine…so that I may be internally cleansed from the years of hate he made me feel towards her; for my anger towards her for not noticing; and, for all those years and years of lies…deception…running away…I was a fugitive…the best of con-artists. I played dodge-mom for almost ten years of my life. Its time for her now. She is my door to heaven. It was not her fault…I was a good liar, as was he…and she just couldn’t see. It’s not her fault.
Sometimes we look to others to blame for our problems. But, quite frankly, sometimes things just happen. Either way everything happens for a reason. Maybe the reason why my mother didn’t notice was because she was not supposed to. What am I going to do with my life now that I am stronger, and now that I can look back as an observer? Who needs to hear this story and who do I need to touch through the lessons it gave me?
Monday, December 6, 2010
Double Faced.
When I was in high school, I had not yet taken on the hijab. However, I was active in the Muslim community. I used to teach at the local mosque, was an avid volunteer, and lobbied for prayer space in my high school during Ramadan. When I joined university, I immediately become a member of the Muslim Students Association - the best years of my life. I attended regular lectures, study circles and numerous spiritual development programs.
I always knew that I was going to take on the hijab, but he was certainly integral in encouraging me to do so. His method was amazing – never forced me, but would mention the numerous university educated women that took on the hijab over and over. He asked me why it was that so many of them put it on if it was not important…he told me that it was because they were educated and studied Islam, and therefore understood its virtue.
I put on the hijab during my first year of university. It was a blessing and continues to be one, and one of the best things I did for myself and my faith.
As we know – hijab is more than just a piece of cloth over one’s head…and, when the desire to put it on is not forced upon you, there is nothing more comforting. It is a complete way of life…u grow closer to God; you feel Him in your life ever time you step out of the door; you are in an ever ready state for worship…whenever and wherever you can just get down to pray; and you feel uplifted. Hijab was not easy when I first put it on because I wanted to make sure I was doing it right. I stopped bobbing to music when in public and began walking with a lowered gaze. I changed my whole wardrobe….I was one of the long skirt and baggy blouse wearing “hijabis”. I never second guessed my decision. But, I did know I was being double faced.
You see, no one knew. Anyone who saw me could have made the false assumption that I did nothing ‘wrong’. I was active in the community, appeared pious in my actions and didn’t engage in wrong for them to see it. How wrong were they? I knew I was a walking contradiction because my private life was anything but modest. I had my hijab on to everyone in the world, but him. I was in university at that point so I had managed to make myself feel less guilty about the whole relationship than earlier, but I was well aware that I was different from all my friends. They would have never believed me…and I’m sure will be shocked if I reveal it to them now...I don't think they could ever imagine the life I was leading behind their eyes.
I was part of a religious circle for girls….one of our tasks was to memorize a portion of the Quran. I had such a difficult time doing that…it was very difficult for me to memorize even one verse, and I was in owe of my friends who seemed to get through it with such ease. Once I was at an Islamic lecture and the speaker made reference to this…he said, ‘if you are having trouble memorizing the Quran, then you must look at your life and see where you need to improve….what sins you are committing’. I sunk in my seat and lowered my head in shame…I knew why I was not able to memorize….I was double faced.
When I think of how people must have viewed me versus what was happening in my private life, I internalized (and continue to hold strong) the understanding that you should never judge a book by its cover. Everyone has a story. There is no saint. I was not only engaged in the relationship, but I would lie to my friends and family about my whereabouts, and I would make sure there was no way anyone could find out...deception. a lot of deception.
Despite the wrong that he initiated, I wonder how much reward he will get for actually encouraging me to put on the hijab. What is more ironic than the guider towards light, also being the leader towards hell?
I always knew that I was going to take on the hijab, but he was certainly integral in encouraging me to do so. His method was amazing – never forced me, but would mention the numerous university educated women that took on the hijab over and over. He asked me why it was that so many of them put it on if it was not important…he told me that it was because they were educated and studied Islam, and therefore understood its virtue.
I put on the hijab during my first year of university. It was a blessing and continues to be one, and one of the best things I did for myself and my faith.
As we know – hijab is more than just a piece of cloth over one’s head…and, when the desire to put it on is not forced upon you, there is nothing more comforting. It is a complete way of life…u grow closer to God; you feel Him in your life ever time you step out of the door; you are in an ever ready state for worship…whenever and wherever you can just get down to pray; and you feel uplifted. Hijab was not easy when I first put it on because I wanted to make sure I was doing it right. I stopped bobbing to music when in public and began walking with a lowered gaze. I changed my whole wardrobe….I was one of the long skirt and baggy blouse wearing “hijabis”. I never second guessed my decision. But, I did know I was being double faced.
You see, no one knew. Anyone who saw me could have made the false assumption that I did nothing ‘wrong’. I was active in the community, appeared pious in my actions and didn’t engage in wrong for them to see it. How wrong were they? I knew I was a walking contradiction because my private life was anything but modest. I had my hijab on to everyone in the world, but him. I was in university at that point so I had managed to make myself feel less guilty about the whole relationship than earlier, but I was well aware that I was different from all my friends. They would have never believed me…and I’m sure will be shocked if I reveal it to them now...I don't think they could ever imagine the life I was leading behind their eyes.
I was part of a religious circle for girls….one of our tasks was to memorize a portion of the Quran. I had such a difficult time doing that…it was very difficult for me to memorize even one verse, and I was in owe of my friends who seemed to get through it with such ease. Once I was at an Islamic lecture and the speaker made reference to this…he said, ‘if you are having trouble memorizing the Quran, then you must look at your life and see where you need to improve….what sins you are committing’. I sunk in my seat and lowered my head in shame…I knew why I was not able to memorize….I was double faced.
When I think of how people must have viewed me versus what was happening in my private life, I internalized (and continue to hold strong) the understanding that you should never judge a book by its cover. Everyone has a story. There is no saint. I was not only engaged in the relationship, but I would lie to my friends and family about my whereabouts, and I would make sure there was no way anyone could find out...deception. a lot of deception.
Despite the wrong that he initiated, I wonder how much reward he will get for actually encouraging me to put on the hijab. What is more ironic than the guider towards light, also being the leader towards hell?
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
Murderer
"I don't want to be...a murderer"
I used to sing that line with so much passion when Rihanna came out with Unfaithful...I was obsessed with the song. I would watch the video and especially the last scene where she gives her boyfriend a hug and looks at the camera with those eyes - showing her guilt...I used to feel like that. I would go to my friends and sing "I ammmm a murdererrrr" and no one knew what I was talking about. They knew the song - that she is saying she is a murderer because she is playing her boyfriend and he loves her terribly...but they didn't know why I was saying the same thing.
These past few weeks I'm going through so many realizations. I had another night of sleeplessness last night. I have never had insomnia like I did yesterday. And the crux of the issue is about my role in the relationship.
You see, even in those moments as a young girl when I knew the relationship should stop, I wouldn't be able to pull myself out completely because I always felt guilty. 'He loves me', I would think to myself...'he does so much...how can I just leave him? Betray him'. I felt responsible. So, as I grew up and was in university, the same feeling of guilt was what kept me holding on even when I wanted to let go.
But, I knew that one day I'd have to let go. I knew that I wanted a family. I didn't want to have to anger my parents. I didn't want to run away. I knew that one day my heart would change...that I would fall out of whatever I was in. I knew that one day I would get tired of the feeling of displeasing God. That feeling in itself made me feel like a murderer. I envisioned that when I did move away, when I finally decided to let go, that he would become a zombie. He would have no joy in his life. I would have murdered him while he was still alive. And, I only said this because that is what he would repeat to me over and over. He made me feel like I was his lifeline. Without me, he would be dead.
But now that I look back - whether it was intentional on his part or not - I find it ironic. Here, a man that was taking advantage of me had actually managed to make me feel like the predator and him the victim. And so I would sing...'I don't want to be a murdererrrr'...while not knowing that he was holding the weapon, not I. And although I would sing that song, I never played him. For almost ten years of my life...there was no man but him. I didn't even have real crushes. But still, I felt I was killing him just by thinking that one day I'd leave him.
I realize now that much of why this relationship dragged on for so long was because of the concept of loving oneself. I think at that time I didn't love myself...rather, I loved him for loving me...I 'needed' him for that love. Do I love myself now? I think so...I think I'm finally trying to sit in the drivers' seat of my own life.
If the victim feels like the enemy, does it mean that they do not love themselves? Is this what causes them to put another's needs before their own?
I used to sing that line with so much passion when Rihanna came out with Unfaithful...I was obsessed with the song. I would watch the video and especially the last scene where she gives her boyfriend a hug and looks at the camera with those eyes - showing her guilt...I used to feel like that. I would go to my friends and sing "I ammmm a murdererrrr" and no one knew what I was talking about. They knew the song - that she is saying she is a murderer because she is playing her boyfriend and he loves her terribly...but they didn't know why I was saying the same thing.
These past few weeks I'm going through so many realizations. I had another night of sleeplessness last night. I have never had insomnia like I did yesterday. And the crux of the issue is about my role in the relationship.
You see, even in those moments as a young girl when I knew the relationship should stop, I wouldn't be able to pull myself out completely because I always felt guilty. 'He loves me', I would think to myself...'he does so much...how can I just leave him? Betray him'. I felt responsible. So, as I grew up and was in university, the same feeling of guilt was what kept me holding on even when I wanted to let go.
But, I knew that one day I'd have to let go. I knew that I wanted a family. I didn't want to have to anger my parents. I didn't want to run away. I knew that one day my heart would change...that I would fall out of whatever I was in. I knew that one day I would get tired of the feeling of displeasing God. That feeling in itself made me feel like a murderer. I envisioned that when I did move away, when I finally decided to let go, that he would become a zombie. He would have no joy in his life. I would have murdered him while he was still alive. And, I only said this because that is what he would repeat to me over and over. He made me feel like I was his lifeline. Without me, he would be dead.
But now that I look back - whether it was intentional on his part or not - I find it ironic. Here, a man that was taking advantage of me had actually managed to make me feel like the predator and him the victim. And so I would sing...'I don't want to be a murdererrrr'...while not knowing that he was holding the weapon, not I. And although I would sing that song, I never played him. For almost ten years of my life...there was no man but him. I didn't even have real crushes. But still, I felt I was killing him just by thinking that one day I'd leave him.
I realize now that much of why this relationship dragged on for so long was because of the concept of loving oneself. I think at that time I didn't love myself...rather, I loved him for loving me...I 'needed' him for that love. Do I love myself now? I think so...I think I'm finally trying to sit in the drivers' seat of my own life.
If the victim feels like the enemy, does it mean that they do not love themselves? Is this what causes them to put another's needs before their own?
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