Salaam alaikum and no worries at all, this isn’t too personal. I’ve never been asked this on tumblr, so thanks for the opportunity!
I admit it used to be a problem, especially since I was pretty determined to introduce her to the religion in hopes she’d convert. I’d talk about kids and toss around Arabic names like mine.
Through the years though, I realized I enjoyed talking about religion and faith as its own entity, no strings attached. Telling her about Islam stopped having any sort of underhanded connotation, it was telling her about myself, the same way I could tell her the latest fashions I was interested in. And she would tell me about her spirituality, her small brushes with Wicca and her interest in Western astrology. She would tell me my horoscopes of the day and I would tell her ayat from the Qur’an.
It wasn’t even about religion after a while, it was about us, where we’d been, what our families were like, our history before we met.
It became liberated and without expectation.
If or when the time comes and we consider kids, I want to introduce them to us, their parents. To love them in a way that is religious and cultural and spiritual, to love them in a way that is purely me and her. They will be built on the foundation of our experiences, but, like my journey with Bee, I want them liberated and without expectation.
As far as whether or not if our relationship is haraam, the fact we’re both girls is already something that invalidates us to many Muslims. But that’s between us and Allah (swt), who has already intertwined my life with hers.
This is in response to a question we recieved, about whether or not a person’s sexuality can change over time. The person didn’t want their information published, so it seems relevant to address the larger point. Can sexuality change if it’s something Allah gave us?
I’m sure you’ve all been watching the ongoing attack on Gaza. At the time of this writing, there are nearly 200 dead, and over 1300 injured. And that number is still going up, despite the rumors of a potential cease fire. You can find a good source of on the ground by following Mohammed Omer on Twitter.
Ramadan is the time that we remember those who are suffering, those who are less fortunate than us. Even if a cease fire is realized, it won’t change the basic facts on the ground: the slow annihilation of Gaza, Gaza’s civil society has called on everyone to help change this situation through Boycott Divestment, and Sanctions of the State of Israel for war crimes. Our prayers matter, but so do our actions, here is some information about taking part in the consumer boycott yourself.
And we should remember that there are Muslims suffering all over the world right now. Bombs are still falling in Aleppo, Shia are fleeing for their lives in Iraq, and Rohingya Muslims are being denied their basic rights on multiple fronts. We should keep all those suffering in our prayers, thoughts, and, when possible, our actions. May Allah have mercy on them. And may he listen to all our prayers this Ramadan.
Quick note. I cannot privately answer questions sent to me anonymously. If you want a private answer, please send me the q with your name, and a request for it to be private.
Sure, what do you need?
We try to. i have to admit we haven’t gotten to a few recent ones. I’m making efforts to go through them all this Ramadan, and keep up with the questions I get.
Well, I have to confess I’m not the best at relationship advice. But, before you do anything, asking God for guidance wouldn’t be a bad idea.
In practice, it’s simple. Say, ‘God, I don’t know what to do about this. I’m lost, and I need your guidance. Guide me, God. I am yours. Where ever you say I should go, what ever you say I should do. I’ll do.’
But here’s the tricky part: you have to mean that. Asking for guidance means giving up the notions of where you think you should go. It means surrendering your will for God’s.
Sometimes it’s hard to do. Sometimes we ask for guidance knowing full well where we want to go. But where we want to go, and where we need to go, are sometimes different places.
And really, who better to guide you. God knows your heart, and your girlfriend’s. He can see your past and destiny. And, if He guides you, there is no force in the Universe that can lead you astray.
One day, the Prophet (SAW) came across a friend, Zahif (SAW), shopping or selling something in the market place. The Prophet (SAW) then grasped him from behind. Zahir was shocked, and tried to break free, until he saw who it was. The Prophet (P) joked that he would sell Zahir (P) as a slave. Zahir (P) joked that he was unsellable, And he was told that to Allah, he had great worth.
I think about this exchange this Ramadan, especially when I hear Muslims talk of ‘idle talk’. It’s become fashionable to publicly abstain from ‘idleness’ this Ramadan. It’s a worthy pursuit, But what do we mean by idle talk? What does it mean to be consumed by trivial matters of this world with no effect on the next?
I’m going to propose something radical: nothing — nothing — done in kindness to another is idle. Even if an act of kindness seems trivial, it isn’t. A stray cat meows outside your window. It’s no effort to put milk (or water) in a plate and put it outside. But there is a woman who will sit in heaven for nothing more than giving a dog water out of her shoe.
I think about the Prophet (P) and Zahir (P), joking around in the marketplace. It’s something I’d expect kids to do, grabbing each other in jest and friendship Kids don’t need to be told about this behavior. They instinctively get how to act like this. How to just be kind to one another. Even in the most silly, trivial, ‘idle’ way possible.
There are a thousand ways into Heaven. Allah is merciful for giving us this. we can fast, pray, remember Him and ask for guidance. But the way we remember him in this world is how we interact with others. The way of kindness is broad, encompassing small and large, short term and long. It’s such a core value in Islam, weaved through the sunnah and the pillars. And I thank Allah for granting it to us.
And the best way to thank Allah for granting us kindness, is to show it others. Nothing idle about that.
I break my fast by myself
Because Muslims aren’t accepted here
Because LGBTQ aren’t accepted here
Because I am both
And my heart sometimes feels like it can’t take the weight
The crushing weight of loneliness
So I pray, and I fast, and I find ways to wear hijab that don’t out me
And I try not to smile “like that” at the cute girl at the gym
Moving here put me back in the closet
But I pray. And I fast. And I breathe. And I feel.
And I savor my dates, taking as long as I like to eat them
I’m finding a quiet peace here