feeling

Ramadan For Bad Muslims – #OutcastMuslims

Go ahead and drink that sip of wine at your friend’s wedding.

Go ahead and have that convenient boyfriend.

Sure you can taste that pork belly- you always wanted to try it.

Hide the fact that you don’t fast from your family by keeping snacks in your room.

Why don’t you drink all that water and soda throughout the day- it IS summer.

Don’t you dare pray. It messes with your work and school schedule.

Divulge in sexual play. Why should you be prohibited to express what is natural?

Don’t go to the mosque. You are pretty sure the tight cliques still don’t notice your existence.

Ablution? More like a baby wipe bath in case you sweat too much after the gym.

Wear that skimpy outfit. You know it is only for self-esteem and breathable fabric on your skin.

 

You know the importance of Ramadan. You can see how it humbles people. You see how your family reacts to it. Work, food and people. Important things. Yet religion should help your world, but it does not quite fit in. You don’t see the importance of Islam in all the other 11 months throughout the year. You are not lucky enough to be a part of it due to constant alienation as a child. Your parents argue more and you don’t see a point in their marriage of verbal and physical abuse. Those 11 months have taught you that your family only picks and chooses the bad aspects the religion that gave you a negative opinion. YOU ARE AWARE of the benefits to a great home life with Islam. You have seen it done right at your friend’s house. However, the psychological issues of those close to you, are never going to be fixed. They truly believe that the religion is working for them, when in fact, they hide behind it in order to make it convenient to them, like children.

Parents are the gateway to opening social doors for you when you are young, especially in religion. They did not encourage our mingling with the other Muslim kids, because they were too overprotective. So I was an outcast. No one to have something in common with and no one to be friends with. So I found my own group of friends, happened to only be Christian friends, who will never know me in that respect. They did not understand and never will. I started to question what having a religion was if people from their church got them jobs, social understanding, connections, activities and any other help imaginable. I felt that it was unfair. It felt like I had no “community” in my life where people just wanted to help you without judgement. I was always on my own and confused in this respect.

The older I got, the more distant I got. The first thing to go was prayer. The next, Ramadan. The last, certain morals and values that only Muslims followed.

The feeling of feeling lost, will never go away. You feel like you are a betrayer to something that you have always known to be the truth. The truth became something you are not going to face. You become lost because you still entirely believe in God but the people have failed you.

You feel like no one will ever truly know your struggle. You feel like no one will every help you get back the important thing you once had. You feel like you don’t see the purpose of someone helping you to do so. You feel alone. You can’t speak up because Islamic hate comes from Muslims and non-Muslims alike. You tell them what you did and the non-Muslims cheer you on, but they will never relate. You tell them what happened and the Muslims will judge you and think you are a sinner. There is no help.

It is a special case of hate. It is a special case of outcast.

You just always feel alone.

Was this a choice?

Who knows…?

 

 

P.S. There is always this present hate. I hope that this special hate won’t be transferred to others reading this post. This is a post is about feeling lost, not to condemn religion. I would love to see solutions to my special case instead of hate.

 

Advertisements

Right Around

It pulls tight. I cannot tell who has done this.

It feels scratchy and still. Strong in weight.

It is the option that no one wants to hear.

A feeling of death and vagrant justice.

When there are no more roads that can be traveled,

When there is no future to the present.

This moment that needs to happen.

Are you ready?

It will hurt. And you know it well.

This is not a trust exercise, but a mortality question.

Who are you to be alive and who are you to be dead?

Toes ache with pain, putting immense strain tiptoeing,

Who in my life- our life – that stands in the way?

From my happiness. My everything. That blockade.

Are you prepared?

I know that it is the right thing. The only thing.

Is this what should happen? No.

But my body craves silence. Craves an end to a whirlwind.

It doesn’t recognize the settled dust for what it is.

It creates new dust, new mess, new things to clean up.

I am tired, I guess.

Just let it come to an end.