" A real muslim loves Allah and his prophet more than his own children, everything you do is for the sake of Allah. Everything you have is because of Allah. You know that feeling in your heart that you cannot describe, that is your love for Allah. Be patient and strong in your deen and Allah will help you".
At the time, I wish I could have been strong enough to reply "Auntie, the thing is, I don't have that feeling in my heart. I don't feel a thing" but what came out was "InshaAllah". Infact, that is all I seem to say to the muslim side of my family. "InshaAllah, I will start wearing the hijab soon". "InshaAllah I will enrol my kids on a weekend madrassa". InshaAllah, InshaAllah, InshaAllah........
The very phrase InshaAllah assumes a different possibility of outcomes, but it is without a doubt that the outcome that I am non-believer, for them, is most definitley not a possibilty. I have hinted at this notion a number of times with a level of tact, explaining that I am finding myself challenging the Quran, asking too many questions such as Why is it speaking to a man, why should a man sleep with whatever his right hand possesses, why are the houri's fair skinned and in anycase why the heck are there houri's at all, since there are no heaven-hunks for the ladies.
I found myself at the islamic conference in Leicester, an attempt to put me on the straight path and beat the shit out of the shaytan who was obviously trying to lead my mind and faith astray. It turned out, I embarrased the shit out of my well-meaning muslimah friend as I stood up and asked Abu Aminah Bilal Phillips why doesn't the animal kingdom observe Islam and why don't Chimps pray. I was 15, and they all just thought I was very dumb, some were very angry that I wasted such a knowledable scholars time with a childish question. That night the *sisters* stayed up until early hours spooking each other with scary Djinn stories.
The thing is it's all been quite messy for me right from the beginning. Born to an English mother with hardcore East-End parents, I was the outcome of holiday romance which broke their heart. My granddad had been in the Sudan and came back with the advice "Never turn your back on an Arab". I could be rude at this point, but for the sake of decency I wont
My mum was afraid and gave me an English name and had me Christened. At that time my dad ( a berber incidently not an Arab) wasn't particularly interested. Too busy shmoozing the next lot of tourists off of the Royal Air Maroc flight. All he told my obsessive mum was " Do not bring her anywhere near where I work, my family must never know about this".
For the first six or seven years of my life everything seemed not so confusing. Then my dad came over, married my mum and my name was changed completely. First and Second. From a fully English name to this strange hard to pronounce foreign name. I had a breakdown that I was 8 years old and couldn't spell my own name!!
Overnight I went from being this English kid to this little muslim girl who was all of a sudden attending Quran evening classes. My mum also dumped the English childminder too and quickly hired a Pakistani lady.
My mum 'reverted' to Islam and from then on it was all InshaAllah's, BismiAllah's, MashaAllah's etc.
I went back and forwards like a yo- yo, good muslim girl at 9, teenage angst fuelled rebel at 14 (Kurt Cobain was my God for a good few years) and then I decided to go live in Morocco with my berber family for a few years, donned the hijab and played good muslim girl. I don't think I ever actually believed as such, but I loved my family and the country and the sense of identity. Then I was forced back by my mum who missed my too much and thought I should go to college and Uni in England. That I did and moved in with my nan who could easily Chair the England Against Islam society. She told me that I had been brainwashed and that I should go out and enjoy life and love many and marry none.
I ditched Islam again, went back to using my English name and fell in love with an English guy. My nan was thrilled that I wasn't following my mum and everything was ok.
Until our relationship came to an end, and in the throws of heartache I co-incidently met a guy with the same dual- ethnicity as myself in a very English area. This was fate surely, Allah was there all along, guiding me back to what was right. We got married (well Nickah marraige) within three months of meeting, had a baby three months after that.
11 years on and I am still this walking Identity Crisis. I still flit between my english name and my arabic name, depending on how I feel. I tell muslims I am muslim and tell non-muslims that I am not. ( And then worry that I am the type mentioned in the Quran who lie about believing to non-muslims).
Both sets of our parents have become more religious with age and increasingly judgemental. They are both choosing to spend much more time in Morocco, more time there than here. I can't tell any of them apart from my mum how I feel.
My children's father who does believe but doesn't practise is so upset that I have told him that I feel more like a non muslim each day, he now lives with his parents until I see the light!
I am so confused what to do regarding my children. My son is questioning why I don't pray and is full of criticism. He wants to practise but I am not teaching him much at all. He talks about Allah all of the time and although he goes to a church school, he tells his friends he is a proud muslim.
I attended this Muslim Sisters group in my area to try and re-gain Faith, but because my sister in law is friends with them all and I suspect she doesn't like the idea of me getting close with her set of friends, they have not welcomed me as I had expected. To the extent of not returning Eid well wishes etc.
I really only went there for my son, I thought that if I somehow recieve that lightening bolt 'reverts' seem to get, then it would be good for him.
I am so scared and ashamed that he is being brought up with the same messed up identity as myself. As a parent you always want to break the cycle and give your children better than what you had.
I am also scared that if I bring my children up liberal and free thinking, they will be punished if there really is such a thing as Allah.
I had a breakdown a few days ago that I should up and leave and take us all to Morocco too. For them, the kids. To have a fluid and consistent childhood. But then I came across this website again, and well you can guess the rest.
Thank you very much for reading this extremely long About Me. Apologies if it doesn't make much sense, I have typed and typed without checking it over as I am afraid I will delete the whole lot and remain a silent observer.
Topic: Subhan'myself I'm here