Religion is Boring

Record Room #12: For the Muslim brothers and sisters (Ramadan Special)

I never liked it when religion was turned into a lecture.

I never liked it when the joy was sucked out of it with the excuse, “you’re a grown-up.”

I never liked it when the things you’re supposed to fall in love with become the things you run away from.

I never liked the guilt in my heart every time I didn’t want to do the things that benefitted me.

I never liked any of it.

I never liked when things were forced.

I never liked it when a mistake was treated harshly.

I never liked when nothing you did seemed enough.

I never liked the double standards.

I never liked the contradictions.

I never liked the use of religion ONLY when it felt necessary.

I never liked when people blindly followed.

I never liked when people didn’t question.

I never liked it when people unconsciously made you absolutely afraid of what you’re supposed to love.

I never liked…any of it.

Growing up, I hated being a girl. I despised it purely because I could do nothing. ABSOLUTELY NOTHING.

I hated knowing that my life would be meaningless and that I’d slowly end up consumed by the patriarchy, living a life just like everyone else.

I didn’t want it, but I knew nothing would change because that is what was written. I never understood the reason why women had to work nonstop. I didn’t understand why all these rules were imposed on one gender and not the other. I didn’t understand the discrimination, the double standards, the contradictions… and no one would give me a proper answer.

I never liked listening about Islam—or frankly anything related to it—because it all felt like a lecture. Almost as if disobeying, or even making a mistake, would result in horrible punishment. And then every time, the guilt would follow, along with the thought, “how dare you.”

I hated wearing a scarf around my neck because why do I even have to in the first place? I never liked following the things we were taught because sometimes it didn’t make sense at all. And when asked, the response usually used to be, “Because Allah commanded it” or “Because that’s how it is.”

Now think about it, a child being told that? It’s not going to work. Children need a reason. They’re kids. They’re supposed to not listen to you until you give a reason that is good for them.

I hated knowing that some choices could never be mine, and the concept of arranged marriage scared the crap out of me, but the idea of love marriages was taboo.

I hated the realisation that dawned upon me: I would have to give myself up in the name of sabr (patience).

I hated the feeling of hiding a mistake from everybody, knowing full well that it could potentially blow up in my face.

I hated the feeling I soon grew accustomed to as a child—a feeling reminding me that mistakes weren’t allowed in religion because it is not a game.

I didn’t get it. Not a single bit.

But what could I do? That’s just how things were.

Time went by, things rarely changed, and then I learned. I learned what Islam truly was.

And I fell in love with it.

I learned that a woman was a Queen in Islam. Someone who had rights beyond belief. I learned that she was never required to clean, cook, or serve. She was never supposed to stay at home with the excuse of “protection.”

A woman could work, earn, live a life just like everyone else.

It’s almost comical really. Hazrat Khadija (R.A.) was one of the most successful businesswomen of her time, and somehow I forgot that. I forgot that Allah never forbade women to work or do practically anything. And somehow I also forgot that Hazrat Khadija (R.A.)—who was older AND a woman—sent a proposal to Prophet Muhammad (S.A.W.) because she admired his honesty.

I forgot the extent to which Allah is Merciful. I forgot it, Astaghfirullah.

I was afraid of making a mistake or even accidentally missing Fajr because I knew I might get scolded for not waking up on time. But then I remembered… Prophet Muhammad (S.A.W.) missed a Fajr too. What did he do? He woke up, instructed everyone to make wudu (ablution), and prayed immediately.

And that was the end of it.

I forgot that making mistakes is allowed. I forgot that Allah knew we would make mistakes and gave us ways to correct them.

I forgot that Allah was the one I cried to when I desperately needed to get the thoughts out of my head. I remember crying my eyes out because I couldn’t tell anyone else my problems, my fears, my desires, my dreams.

I forgot that Allah was there when I made those silent duas, believing He was listening.

I forgot the moment I wore the Hijab 4 years ago. From the girl who would just quickly wrap her head and call it a day, to the girl who would make sure the clothed crown looked the way it should. Beautiful.

I forgot the times I lay awake wondering… just wondering.

I forgot the stories I had heard as a child about how Angel Jibreel kicked mud in Fir’aun’s (Pharaoh’s) mouth in fear of Allah’s mercy.

Allahu Akbar.

I forgot the first time I saw reels of scholars on Instagram and just listening to them warmed my heart. I forgot the reels I encountered of Mufti Menk and Omar Suleiman. Just the way they spoke of Islam made me laugh, smile, and know that it was okay. It made me realize that Islamic talks don’t have to be preachy or feel like I’m sitting at school.

I forgot the beauty behind the Seerat (way of life) of the Prophet Muhammad (S.A.W.) and the parts about his marriage with his wives. I forgot about the stories about the marriage of Hazrat Fatima (R.A.) and Hazrat Ali (R.A.). I forgot the times I cried listening to them, praying that something like that finds me too.

I forgot so many things. Many I haven’t even mentioned.

And from my haphazard 2 AM thoughts, I’d like to send a message to my Muslim brothers and sisters:

Allah is merciful, way more than we can imagine. It is okay to make a mistake. It is okay to slip. It is okay to lose track. As long as you bounce back, come back to Allah, all is well.

Those of us born as Muslims… we too need to find it in ourselves to know our religion beyond what is told. We too need to learn and fall in love with the religion we were born into. Because it truly is not exactly as we are told.

To my sisters: have hope. Have tons of it, because Allah will never leave your side.

To my brothers: be true to yourself and follow what you believe is right, and InshaAllah Allah will guide you (and us sisters) in the right direction. Ameen.

Take a moment to yourself and just remember: Allah is closer to us than our jugular vein, and He will run to us the moment we decide to walk to Him.

It took me a while… but when I realized I didn’t hate the religion, but the culture which forcefully embedded itself in it, things became better.

Asking Allah for things became better. Talking with Him became easier because once you realize that the things we’re taught aren’t all from Allah and are merely what people thought was necessary, things change.

To all the Muslims out there: keep going. Chances are that the things you are suffering from, or hurting because of, aren’t asked by Allah.

I’ll end this with something Mufti Menk said today in the podcast I was listening to. He stated that you should never feel that you have gone beyond the limit. Never feel that you cannot be repaired, Never feel that there is no room for you to turn to Allah.

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Yes I cried while writing this because it really is something that just hits home…it’s a topic that always makes me cry because I know I can’t really do much about it except pray.

Sometimes things are tough and by no means I’m saying that I am a model Muslim. I am not. I am nowhere near it. But we can do the little things and believe that they will count.

Anyways, that’s enough for today. InshaAllah, I will be starting my journey with an abaya for the first time. I don’t know if I’ll like it (I hope I do) but as I’m writing this, it is currently 2:43am on Monday morning, so today will be the day I wear it!

And to wrap this up, Ramadan Mubarak everyone! Don’t forget to do Zikr, and let’s make the most out of this Ramadan, InshaAllah!

Love each and every one of you and thank you for reading!!

Zikr:

100 x Allahu Akbar

100 x SubhanAllah

100 x Alhumdullilah

100 x La ilaha ilalah

100 x Astaghfirullah