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Salaam!
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Welcome to the home of the
“I am not Haraam” project - a blog created for
LGBTQ Muslims by LGBTQ Muslims.

Haraam is an Arabic word used in Islam to mean “forbidden”. This project has been started as a way for LGBTQ Muslims to stand up and proclaim that we will not allow our existence as LGBTQ Muslims to be erased any longer.
We are not kafirs, we are not deviant, our existence is not a sin. This is our space to say:
WE ARE NOT HARAAM.

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Call for submissions
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We’re calling for any Muslim who identifies as part of the LGBTQ spectrum to submit to this blog. Allies and supportive families of LGBTQ Muslims are also welcome and encouraged.
The theme for submissions is quite simply,
“I am not haraam”
(or “my son/daughter/lover/sibling is not haraam”).

We’d like you to share what it means for you to be an LGBTQ Muslim. You can tell us about your struggles, your everyday life, anything that makes you, you!

Submissions can take any form; text posts, audio posts, art work, poetry, video etc.

How do I submit? You can submit by clicking on “submit” at the top of the page or by emailing iamnotharaam@gmail.com

If you have any questions please don’t hesitate to message us.
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Please note: This is a positive space for LGBTQ Muslims. We will not publish or respond to any negative or hateful remarks. We will not respond to any message asking us to justify our existence as LGBTQ Muslims.
Posts tagged "islam"

So I’ve always been one to search for what exactly I am. From a young age I began to have a feeling of being a girl, i always felt wrong the way that I was being conditioned to live as a child. I knew from the first time i could think to myself that I was a girl, but I couldn’t understand why no one would let be be who I was. 

As I progressed into teenage years, I threw that identity of being a transwoman to the back. I had always been told by my family that transgender people were really just Gay people in such denial that they have reverted to deluding themselves into thinking they are another sex. But, I knew to my self I was not a gay man, I had no interest in men, I was only interested in Women. What was I then, a transgender lesbian? Is that even a real thing? I thought i was just a stupid delusional kid, so i went on to live reluctantly as a man.

Later in my teen year, while searching I came across Islam. I had been raised by an agnostic Family, so I did not have a preconception as to what an Islamic family would say. My family however was very much transphobic and i was very much reluctant to let that information out. Meanwhile, I was struggling to justify my entry into Islam. All i had ever heard and gathered was that people like me where not welcome, and I immediately felt alienated. I struggled with it, often leaving only to come back. No matter the negative lash backs i got from fellow Muslims i tried to contact, I always felt like my place and my heart was with Islam. 

I’ve looked, i’ve prayed to help myself through these problems. Now I’m 18, and ready to begin a medical transition, and through it all, i feel like Allah has been watching over me. My experiences with Islam, at it’s core with myself, i feel good with it, i feel like this is what is right for me. I have never felt rejected by the Almighty, but always felt hopeful.

<3

“Like Allah the Samad, same-sex couples do not procreate, but they love, they create, and they nurture relationships that are tied together not by an earthly womb but by Divine Compassion.”

-GHAZALA ANWAR: "Elements of a Samadiyyah Shariah"

When I was 17 years old I was a senior in high school. I was wearing hijab and I went on everyday with my life with the idea that one day I am going to have a huge fancy wedding with prince charming. That my hijab is part of my identity and who i am, but is that true? It most definitely is not. 

I have been wearing hijab since I was 4 years old. Yes 4. How ridiculous does that sound? To be honest that’s not really the problem. I have never identified as gay and I still don’t but that one relationship with a girl that I had turned my perspective around, a 360 degree turn. 

My dad used to tell me that gay people are sick, my mom was repulsed at the idea of two men or two women kissing because it was “haram”. Is it haram? Only Allah knows. Anyway, back to being 17 and meeting the most amazing girl in the entire world. Meeting this girl, her name is Nalani. She was the most beautiful, exquisite, free-spirited person I had ever met. There was a problem at the time in my head though, she was still a GIRL. I was so confused at the time that she was a girl that because I had cared about her so much I was actually mean to her because I couldn’t comprehend that I actually had feelings for another woman, it was just so abnormal to me.

Meanwhile, a lot of time passed and I continued to struggle with my relationship because I loved her so much but we were hiding from the entire world. I mainly struggled with the idea of simultaneously accepting my hijab any my sexuality. We hid our relationship from the world for three years. I had been engaged to a man while Nalani and I were together because I thought that it would help mask my feelings for her, that obviously didn’t work. We both struggled for years trying to make sense of the hiding and that no one would ever accept us, it drained our relationship to the point where there was nothing left. On december 16th, 2013 my only girlfriend that I had fought to be with and suffered for years at a time for left me. The hiding was an external factor undoubtedly, but there were other internal factors that aided in her decision to end it. 

Everyday for those 3 years i lived in constant fear of someone finding out. After my g/f broke up with me, I decided to take off my hijab and come out. Let me tell you, that this was the hardest thing I had ever had to do. I took my hijab off because I realized that I had no idea who I was, that I was only wearing hijab because I was afraid what people would say about me taking it off. I only stayed in the closet about my relationship because I didn’t want people to stop talking to me and my family to disown me. Now, the whole world knows about the relationship with this phenomenal young woman that I had in my life. Although we are no longer together I will never be ashamed to say that she was my girlfriend. I always struggled with the idea of being Muslim and being in a same-sex relationship, only to realize that those are two completely different things. I still have no idea what to identify myself as, but I ‘d like to keep it that way for now. My family was shocked and so were my friends. I used to introduce Nalani as my “friend” for years and to come to realize that she was my gf they couldn’t believe it. Many people distanced themselves, and many people actually became closer to me. My family still can’t accept it, I don’t think they ever will. That’s alright though, because they are my family. It’s a struggle everyday to say that I am Muslim and that I may like women too. It’s something many Muslims in the LGBTQ community struggle with. I just want you all to know though that it’s not the end of the world. Do not fight what feels right to you. If you are a man and love a man, if you are a woman and love a woman, do not fight it. Allah will judge you and only you. Allah swt is the most compassionate and forgiving, he is the all-knowing so don’t fear, go with what feels right. I wish I would have done this a long time ago. Stay strong.

If you fast the day of Ashura to follow the sunnah, perhaps also spare a thought for the thirsty family of the same Muhammad (saw) whose sunnah you are following, who were deprived of water by the cruel army on the field of Karbala. If you observe extra ibadah (worship) during Muharram because we know from the Quran that it is a sacred month, then perhaps we can also realize how far from the Quran the Ummayad army were when they mercilessly attacked the small defenseless group of Imam Husayn (ra), going against the strict prohibition of war during Muharram, which itself means “sacred.”

 Safiyyah Surtee

Solidarity with our Shia family. 

Before the Kaaba, we stop at a masjid near the Battle of Uhud to make wudu and change. It’s night, the masjid’s closed. An old man let’s us in. We pray, wash, change in darkness.

I’m struck by how small the masjid is. Four walls, a roof. Not much else. It reminds me of the mosques i grew up in. Converted houses and gas stations. Portable buildings we’d have to repair after Sunday school. Jummahs under an aluminum roof, the khutbah crackling through an old speaker.

The Harem was different in every way. 90 acres of marble, limestone, silver and gold. Lights illuminating every corner. Sound echoing through dozens of speakers. Multiple levels and ready access for the elderly and disabled. An army of staff to keep it spotless/organized at all times. It’s no exaggeration to say it is the most advanced, modern mosque on the planet.

And at the center is the Kaaba: a 40 foot granite box draped in a black tarp. And even that’s ornate compared to the original, a set of walls no higher than Ibrahim and Ishmael. Look at these side by side comparisons:

image

Look at it! This is house of God, the holiest site on Earth. What does that tell us, that something so revered comes in such a simple, humble presentation?

Every masjid falls somewhere between the Kaaba and the Harem, in terms of intricacy, size, modernity, etc. In the years since my Hajj, I’ve noticed a distinct trend towards the Harem. Even in my hometown, the portable buildings are being replaced by grander and grander structures.

Not that that’s a bad thing. I’m not one to fetishize tradition. There isn’t a single improvement to the Harem that I don’t agree with. Each one helps more and more people perform their sacred duty.

But it’s important to remember that not having these things isn’t something to be ashamed of. The sacredness of a masjid comes, first and foremost, from the prayers we offer there. 

autostraddle:

A Muslim RuPaul At The Dawn Of Islam: Tuwais and the Mukhannathun

A mukhannath who had dyed his hands and feet with henna was brought to the Prophet. He asked:…

View Post

A post I did for Autostraddle about the early history of gender variant Muslims.

Next to prayer and Qu’ran, the sheik said, was zakat.

Here, zakat wasn’t just something you put in the masjid drop box. It was direct. Personal. We’d come face to face with the poverty we were alleviating. 

In certain cases it wouldn’t even be asked for. People, even in the most dire situations, would just be happy to be on Hajj. It didn’t mean we shouldn’t give them zakat.

As if to illustrate this point, a man walked up to us and asked when the next prayer was. His walking cane trembled as he clutched his ragged clothes. When he walked away, a man in our group leaped to his feet and offered some money. Sheikh Ahmed praised him for it.

The rest of the Hajj, we came face to face with some of the most extreme poverty I’ve ever seen. I understood my privilege in a whole new light. I travelled easy and slept in a comfortable, fancy apartment. Some had petitioned the government for years, and traveled by foot, just so they could sleep on the floor of the Grand Mosque.

But they were on Hajj. For all their suffering, they would be rewarded, and greatly. And that’s the same with all suffering, in a way. When we worry about Allah and suffering, I think we worry that the injustices we see will carry on to the hereafter. But it won’t. Allah will not be unfair in judging us. Allah will not be unmerciful. 

I’ve never stopped giving zakat. Whether it be to charities or to people on the street. That’s what Muslims do. We help each other, and those around us. The things we get in life, our money, talents, resources, all this comes from Allah. The question is what we do with those things.

This is how I’ve come to see zakat, and that view came from my time in the Hajj.

Alhamdulillah.

Even at my worst, I still gave zakat.

Alhamdulillah, alhamdulillah.

muslimslobblog:

If we had a Caliphate, if we had a “moderate” Islamic Shariah, present now…what kind of laws would be in place to give this mother justice?

The fight against homophobia is something which falls under “the westernization of Islam”. It is something “westernize Muslims” are doing, which means it isn’t really a part of the “real Islam”.

When Muslims call for “reform”, one of the things that we want reforms in is LGBT realm of Islamic jurisprudence.

And anyone fighting for Shariah, or promoting it, without talking about much needed reforms within the scholarly work the Shariah system will be based is ignoring the glaring problems within Islam and its culture.

What do imams and scholars say about the rights of homosexuals, transgenders, bisexuals?

(via coming-2-terms)

"Pray,"

That was the advice our guide gave us on the way to Mecca. I was travelling with a group of a dozen, including my mother, who’d booked the trip. I was a teenager, and pouring my adolescent angst into Islam. I’d take every chance to learn from our guide, Sheikh Ahmed.

Prayer was vital. Prayers on Hajj be counted thousands of times (pilgrims joked that the total would make up for the ones they’d missed). Not only that, but there was also the pushing, shoving crowd to deal with.

"Don’t think about the crowd." Sheikh Ahmed said, "If you do, they’ll overwhelm you. Put you head down, and pray. ‘Oh, Allah, guide me. Keep me safe.’ If you do this, the crowd won’t touch you. Walk calmly, deliberately. There’s no need to worry about your steps, Allah will protect you, guide you. Believe that. You must always pray with assurance that Allah will answer you.”

In the coming days, I saw ample evidence of it. When it came time for tawaf or jamarat, the sheik would gather us around him. Heads down, we’d walk.

It was like something out of a movie. All around us was a maelstrom of people. Stones flew in all directions. But here we were, a line of five, calmly strolling as if nothing was there.

(But of course, something was there. When you pray, Allah is with you, whether you feel him or not.)

The thing is, it evaporated as soon as your concentration broke. Your mind would wander, or you’d notice a rock flying through the air. And it was like the protective shield vanished. Instantly you’d be elbowed or hit by a rock, and you’re in the frenzy.

And it wasn’t just us. One time, I saw a crowd gathered around a closed, locked door. Pushing, shoving each other to get to the front. Hoping to be let in so they could join the crowd inside.

At the back, two men looked at each other, smiled, put their gaze to their hands, and stepped forward. Next thing I know, they’re inside. Still walking, still praying.

Like, what’s a wall to Allah? It’s not a guard that lets you in. It’s Allah. Those two guys were just the only ones who asked him.

Here’s where I’m supposed to say it was a miracle. But was it? Or, more accurately, was it more of a miracle than all the other things we see in the world? The sunrise, a birth, the shade of trees, singing of birds. All of that is as much the grace of Allah as walking through walls. It’s just that the latter is less common. But it’s not impossible. With Allah, nothing is impossible.

The Hajj made me realize that.