So I've sort of dealt with predestination, Mohammed marrying a kid, next I had to deal with was slavery, where did Allah come from & gays. I didn't want to ask myself where Allah came from, I had no answers. No one had, I was so scared of thinking about it. One day I had the courage to google it, Islamic website came up. Something about sjaitaan and beyond our knowledge. Not a satisfying answer but I was too scared the devil was tryna ask me these kinda questions.
I tried to forget about slavery, I couldn't. I tried to deal with the Islam's view on gays, I couldn't. I simply can't deal with injustice, but still, leaving Islam never came up even when I met this muslim guy on that forum. He was doubting Islam and when I read that, I actually felt hurt. So I sent him a pm asking how his parents would react and he explained everything, the guy had a really messed up youth and I could relate to most of the stuff. My first thought was he is young (he was just a year younger than me lol) and went through a lot and now he is reacting it on the Islam. That was not the case, the guy did his research and I actually supported him (while feeling guilty) when he was going through a roller coaster of emotions en finally made his 'decision'.
At the same time, I had my own issues (incl religion) and after all these years I couldn't handle it anymore. I was feeling depressed, didn't want go college and thus skipped a lot, stopped with playing sports, had no contact with friends and family and just wanted to stay in my room the whole day. This continued for a couple of months and resulted in me failing some of my A-level exams (even missed one) and barely passing my BTEC. I was so disappointed in myself, knowing that I didn't even try. I had no idea what to do, suddenly I found some of my motivation back, went through clearing and enrolled for a HND Business Studies course. My tutor was really impressed with me as I was one of few who had a clear goal and knew how to get there but somehow all my motivation was gone before even the 2nd week went past. I couldn't even get my introduction assignment done, nice start. I started skipping again, my course was not a priority anymore. Life was more of a surviving now, having no joy in anything (except for watching Real Madrid
).
One of my biggest dreams is travelling so I decided to book a trip to one of my favourite regions in Spain, finally had something to look forward to. This, however, didn't motivate me to do my best. The trip seemed somehow surreal, my parents would never let me go so I had to lie to them and told them it was an educational trip. I remember the day I was leaving, booked my coach really early and my brother brought me to the coach station. Lucky me, we just made it so when my brother asked where my classmates were I told him they were already on the coach. Couple of hours later I was in Stansted and waiting for my flight. Went through security, ate something at Burger King and before I knew it was time to board. There I was, standing in the queue with my abaya and scarf on, on my way to the country I always dreamt of. Didn't feel nervous at all until 15/20min before landing. Shit got real then. What if Allah punished me and had a crash or died in Spain, the thought of my parents killed me. I tried to calm myself down and sort of felt safe when we finally landed.
First thing I did was go to the toilet, no more abaya and no more scarf. It felt so weird, I had the feeling everyone looked at me when I walked out but god, it felt so liberating. The world looked so much nicer, I felt like a tota different person on my way to Malaga from the airport. Hour later I was checking in my hostel, I still couldn't believe it. I was going to sleep in a mixed room, should've told my dad that
Got to know some lovely people from different countries and we went out the 2nd night, after getting used to eating meat and chicken from Mac, Burger King & KFC and not feeling guilty, taking off my hijab and abaya, sleeping in a dorm this was going to be another step. I never thought I would go out and there I was, going to a bar, taking shots, having the best cocktail ever (Adios motherfucker) and going to a club afterwards with people I've just known 2 days. It was great, one of my best nights. I made sure I didn't get drunk and I notified two of my 'mates' that I've never drunk alcohol before so they were watching out for me. The best thing was, I wasn't even feeling guilty.
I fell in love with Malaga, the atmosphere was so lovely, the weather was nice eventho it was november. For once I felt happiness, real happiness. I went to my first Real Madrid match in Malaga, I remember how nervous I felt lol. After a couple of days in Malaga my next stop was Granada: Alhambra, free tapas, wonderful views, great people. Granada was simply amazing. 3rd and last city was Sevilla. Didn't enjoy Seville as much as I could've, the thought of going back home and leaving my freedom was freaking me out. I barely got out of my hostel, only when I had to eat. Did socialise within the hostel (they had a bar) but not as much as in Granada and Malaga. Also, I didn't have a lot of money left (didn't have much to begin with) so I couldn't do much.
Last day in Spain was quite emotional, I was leaving from Malaga airport. The city where it all started, where I went to see my first Madrid match, where my journey of getting to know myself started, where I enjoyed the sunset on the beach and talked for hours with two old Spanish men while not even speaking the same language thinking I can't get happier, where I met some wonderful people. I was leaving all that behind, back to the old me. The scarf and abaya wearing girl.
Topic: Born Sinner