Unleashed

I Tried to Make it Work

I was born into a religion where every aspect of my existence was regulated by pre-existing rules. I was always the conscientious child and believed that I was supposed to be the most devout follower I could possibly be. I was never fanatical but devoted definitely. When I was a little girl I dutifully followed all of the rules without really questioning them and bought into the whole leader worship thing that was a part of my religious community’s experience.

Once I turned ten or eleven is when all hell broke loose. That was when I decided to start studying Islam for myself and it became so apparent and obvious that the way women were portrayed and all of the rules and restrictions and attitudes concerning women were at best not exactly female friendly and at worse downright hateful, misogynistic, insulting, oppressive and sexist. I was heartbroken. This was the religion that I was raised to love and while I was taught that I could ask questions about certain things the foundation or integrity of the religion could never be questioned. So I kept on studying, hoping to find some glimpse of the perceptions I had been given about the purported equality of women and men and the respect, liberation and protection that women were given in Islam that I had been taught and couldn’t find it.

Now that I was older I started observing our religious community and it was very obvious how women were denied a voice, not allowed to be leaders, were not respected and male authority and male prerogative were the order of the day. While it was the women who were the backbone of the community and performed all of the thankless and ignored tasks that kept the community functioning. First I was angry and resentful. Then I started thinking I was crazy because all of the women and girls I knew seemed perfectly content and satisfied, happy even at how they were treated and regarded by the men in the community. So then I concluded that something must be wrong with me.

You see in my community the approval of the community was everything. You acted the way you were supposed to, you said only what was acceptable and appropriate, you dressed in the way everyone would approve because community approval was of paramount importance. That along with the unspoken but binding agreement I had made with my parents that I would be the perfect Muslim child, made me feel trapped. After all I couldn’t possibly disappoint my parents, they would be so hurt and disappointed, especially my dad who I always strove to please. So I tried to define myself within the narrow confines of all of the rules and expectations and norms however oppressive they were to my heart and spirit.

It was daily struggle believe me. I have always been someone intensely involved with personal freedom and expression, basic human equality of male and females and mutual respect among people. My way of coping after realizing the male bias and sexist application and understanding of Islam was to try and become knowledgeable as possible in Islam and the teachings of our leader so that at least when I did interact with men in the community they would respect my intelligence. Much to my disappointment it didn’t matter how much I knew or how knowledgeable I was because I was female I was automatically discounted.

Every time I would read the Quran, and there is so much of beauty and wisdom in the book, lurking in the back of my mind were the verses that left wide open and were so often used as a source and validation of the oppression and suppression of women and the misogynistic attitude towards anything female. I began to hate to read the Quran because of the constant conflict and turmoil I went experienced. And the more I tried to distance myself from being the despised, voiceless, powerless female the more alienated I became from my true feminine source. I would constantly question Allah, as to why did he make me female if it meant feeling such oppression and humiliation while practicing the religion that I had committed myself to following.

And then there little things that I did which I could not do so freely and be accepted by the community such as my writing and poetry which I could never read at a Muslim event, and my love of dance, and my wanting to swim and play basketball and couldn’t do so because of the clothing requirements or lack thereof and my total fascination with the occult, metaphysical and paranormal. The intuitive sense I’ve had since I was a teenager that I had been here many lifetimes and would often experience glimpses of previous lives and experiences and my innate knowing that I was born a healer and my clairvoyant ability that only increased with time along with my utter fascination and absorption with space and astronomy and this sense that I hadn’t always lived on this planet. And my sensuality as my source of feminine power, always lurking beneath the surface threatening to rear her powerful face that violated everything I had ever been taught about being a Muslim woman. There simply was no room for so much of who I was and am in Islam, especially how it is understood and practiced.

There was some alleviation of the pressure when I discovered feminism in my early twenties. Even when I was teenager I was always drawn to feminism but shied away because I was afraid of the truth I would have to face about the sexism in Islam. By my twenties I didn’t care although I still was scared to openly call myself a feminist and a Muslim. But feminism didn’t satisfy this understanding that there were whole aspects of myself I didn’t even allow myself to explore because they didn’t even exist in an Islamic context.

Finally now that I am in my thirties I have enough personal integrity and love of self to embrace all of me and trust my spirit and intuition wherever it may lead me and be true to myself. The paths I have been drawn to and the experiences and information I have encountered have been interesting, crazy and exhilarating but most importantly liberating and for the first time I am learning how to be my authentic self and trust in the guidance I receive and if it makes sense in an Islamic context that is fine. If it doesn’t that is fine also as long as it is true for me.

I still believe in the parts of Islam that honor my soul and my truth, the things that don’t I no longer concern myself with. Labels are beginning to matter less and less to me and in many ways I still consider myself Muslim but at this point in my journey is no longer even that important. For years and years I tried. valiantly doing everything I was supposed to do to as a Muslim woman but Islam wasn’t big enough to contain all of me. It could only contain some parts of myself. And for where I am in my journey I tried to make it work but it didn’t work for me.

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