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automatismoateo · 3 years

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Why I left my religion and how it changed my life via /r/atheism

Submitted April 23, 2021 at 09:01AM by Iamnameless_ (Via reddit https://ift.tt/3gzpZxk) Why I left my religion and how it changed my life

I have tried for years to put what I went through into words or to make sense of it, but no matter how hard I try I can never paint a full picture of how awful It felt to be born a girl in a Muslim household.

This is for the many little girls out there who feel what I’ve felt. Who spend their nights crying and feeling lonely, scared and trapped. This is a success story and I hope that it will bring hope to you.

Before I begin, i would like to state that there is a difference between Islam and the culture around it. The problem isn’t Islam nor is it the religion itself. It is the toxic culture that has been built around it by muslims and the hidden truths that women are too scared to reveal.

I grew up in a Muslim household in a western country. My parents were extremely religious - to the point where it was extreme.

My father abused my mother my entire life and in return she took out it out on us. Now of course, not all Muslim men are abusive, although it is easy to get away with and not exactly frowned upon. My father was never involved in our lives, he didn’t know our birthdays or anything about us really. My mother had the obligation to take care of us, she would spend all day cooking and cleaning and dealing with the abuse. She became numb, empty and trapped. Consequently, she became even more religious, trying to convince herself that her sacrifices and her pains were going to be rewarded by god. She became so afraid of my father punishing her for our behaviour that she also became toxically controlling.

I could go on for days and write shocking and horrifying things, but I need to protect myself and I’m also not ready to reveal everything I went through because to be quite honest, I find it humiliating and it makes me cringe (even anonymously).

My parents always told us stories about how woman that didn’t obey the rules of Islam were killed. They would go in specific detail and give us examples and names. We grew up in fear and we were taught that girls basically had no rights, they had to do everything their parents said until they got married and then their husband would tell them what to do. My brother was free as bird. He could do anything he wanted.

My mother would make me clean the house and do the dishes while my brother just sat there playing video games. Whenever I would ask why I had to do it and not him, she would answer “because you’re a girl”. I must’ve heard that sentence a billion times and each time she repeated it, I hated her even more.

When I was about 6 years old, my mother came to pick me up from school and as we were leaving my biggest fear at the time occurred — a boy in my class said goodbye to me. My mother became furious. She told me that I was never allowed to be friends with boys and looked at me with such disgust as If I had done something awful. She told me that in our religion and culture, girls are not allowed to be friends with boys. I didn’t understand what was going on, but I developed terrible anxiety from that behaviour. Every time that my mother would pick me up from school, my palms would become sweaty, my heart would race and all I would feel is fear. It seems to ridiculous and almost funny to write, but at the time it was a genuinely scary thing.

When I was about 8, we went to a park with some family. I layed down in the grass and my mother came to me and grabbed me by the arm violently and told me that girls aren’t allowed to “lie down” infront of men (who I was related to). Again, it was confusing but she had this way of speaking to me and looking at me that made me fear her and do everything she said.

When I was 11, my breasts started to develop very rapidly. All of the sudden, I was becoming a woman. I was forbidden from wearing shirts that didn’t cover up my entire upper body. It felt unfair and wrong. I didn’t understand why my body (that I didn’t chose) was causing so much uproar. I wanted to play, to be free, to wear comfortable clothing. I didn’t even understand sex, I was a child, yet sex (or the fear of it) was the premise of my life. It was who I was, it was everything I did. My parents based my entire existence on sex.

We had a family friend who had a daughter my age. She was born with one of her Fallopian tubes twisted and as she got older the pain was so awful that she would scream in anguish. The girls mother refused the simple surgery that could stop her pain because the doctor had to enter through her vagina and cut her hymen to do the procedure. I overheard my mother saying that she shouldn’t get the surgery because what if one day she gets married and her husband doubts her virginity. It absolutely shattered my heart and changed my view on Islam forever.

Around that age, I got my first period. I was absolutely terrified to tell my mother about it. It was only after the second time that it happened that I had the guts to tell her. She was extremely uncomfortable and didn’t look at me. She didn’t explain what was happening and she made me feel dirty and disgusting. After that, things got worse and worse.

I went to high school and suddenly it all hit me in the face. I understood my entire life. I understood that I had been taught none sense and lies. I understood that I had been mentally abused. I understood that i was going nowhere with the life I had. I became angry, heavily depressed and suicidal.

I wasn’t allowed to have a social life and I wasn’t allowed to wear tight or “revealing” clothes. I had to be home after school on the dot. Literally, my mom would wait at the door for me and if I was even a minute late she would scream at me as I walked in. Like genuinely yell at me for being 5 minutes late and accuse me of being with boys and doing bad things and lying. It was traumatizing, since I was always telling the truth (at least then). Every single day, I would hop off the bus and run home. And then I would fight with my mother over non existant boys and cry all night long- and repeat. This went on pretty much my entire adolescence and I lost my fucking mind. I can’t even begin to explain the pain. I just didn’t want to live. School kept me going, I had good grades, greats friends and I just loved it. But I had an awful secret and I never said a word about it. Every night I would get on my knees and pray to a god that I didn’t believe in and that I hated, that I would die. I just couldn’t imagine getting out of my situation.

I looked up things online a couple of times, wondering if I was the only one going through this and I was shocked to see that it was common. When I was 16, I tried to kill myself. I woke up one morning and I felt absolutely nothing it was like I was already dead. I couldn’t handle it anymore, I was alone. Nobody could see, nobody could tell and this was my life forever. I ended up at the hospital and lived but I couldn’t care less. I told the nurses that I didn’t want to see my family and I was taken to a psych ward where I stayed for a few days. I felt peace for the first time in my life. I was all alone but I was free (ironically I was locked up in a hospital room). When they asked me why I did it I couldn’t get the words out so I was very vague. My mother and brother came to visit me and although they were crying, the first thing she said to me was “how could you do this to us and to your father” and that this was haram and that I needed to pray to god and everything would be ok. I tried telling her that I couldn’t live like this anymore but I was too afraid to say that I fucking hated god and that I felt more oppressed than a dog. So when the doctors asked me if I felt better and if I wanted to leave I said yes and I guess they just assumed I was a stupid teenage girl. I went back home and things were a little different for a few days but then and it got bad again.

That’s when my entire life changed. I tried dying and it didn’t work. So now I had nothing to lose, it was either die or die trying. I became rebellious, started talking back, starting talking to boys, starting hanging out with friends after school and lying about it and wearing clothes and changing them after leaving the house. I realized that whether I did or I didn’t, I was going to get yelled at and since I was a “girl” I couldn’t be trusted, so I decided to make it worth something. I wasn’t scared of my parents anymore because I realized that they were just people- like me. And that they were sad and miserable so I made it my goal to not end up like that. I decided I was going to leave home at 18.

After my suicide attempt, I had to see a social worker once a week. It was the best thing that ever happened to me. I never told her what was going on at home specifically because I was embarrassed, scared and in-denial. But I opened up to her in small ways and spoke about the way my mother treated me in general and it opened up my eyes little by little. I realized that I was never the problem. I realized that I was a child. I realized that parents can be bad and wrong. I realized that my home life was abnormal and toxic. I realized that my mother was a victim, that she was an abused woman trying to cope by “protecting” her children and feeling important. I realized that my father was weak. That he was a coward all along and that he needed to feel strong by asserting his dominance. But most importantly, I realized that I was so much more than I was taught I was - I was smart, I was strong and I was a person not just an object for men’s pleasure.

At 18, my mother began to suspect my secret life. She came into my room and told me that girls who do bad things in Islam get killed. And for the first time, I wasn’t scared. I could see how weak she felt and how scared she was. And so one day I went to school, I took the bus back home and a few stops before my house, I thought to myself “oh wow I can’t do it anymore”. So I got off and I went to a friends house and I didn’t go home that night. My parents called, texted, found me on all social media, contacted my friends, sent out threatening texts... A part of me was absolutely terrified that they would find me and do something bad. But the other part of me couldn’t get enough of the freedom and the air. I went to school the next day and told a counsellor and the police everything. I didn’t want to get my parents in trouble, in fact I felt really terrible and selfish. I told the cops that I didn’t get any real threats and that I didn’t want to file a report or anything, but that I just wanted this on record in case anything ever happened to me.

At first, they would send me abusive terrible texts everyday. About how I’m terrible, disgusting, selfish, that god hates me, that I will burn in hell, that I’ve ruined their lives and their honour. And then afterwards they would beg me to come home and tell me they love me. But then they would text me that I’m weak, that I couldn’t handle gods words, that I was a sinner. And then that they loved me and just wanted me back and that we could go back to normal. And then again, I’m ungrateful, I’m dumb, i gave into tentations, I’m a whore.

I didn’t see my parents for a year. They contacted me non stop, begging me to come visit so that the rest of our family wouldn’t notice I left home. They stopped inviting people over so that they wouldn’t ask questions. They told me that if I’m seen with a boy or wearing revealing clothes their lives would be over and they begged me to not do so for them.

I spent the entire year healing my wounds, my trauma and working on myself. I moved into a studio apartment and worked part time while being a full time student. I got a student loan that allowed me to live, i didn’t have much but I had never ever in my entire life felt so happy. I felt like I was on top of the world, I could do anything and be anything. (I had an incredible support system during this period and I was followed by a specialist. I got help and opened up to people. It was difficult, a process and alot of hard work. Without all that I don’t think this would’ve been a success story).

At 19, I met my parents in a cafe out of guilt. I felt sorry for them but I just didn’t feel love. They told me that they accept who I am but the only thing they ask is that I come back into their lives and that I hide this part of my life to the family and friends and that I visit every now and then so that nobody suspects anything. Obviously, growing up in the culture I knew how bad things would be for them and I understood. I saw them a couple of times here and then but I never felt like myself when I was there. I guess I did it for them and because I just felt awful that I had to ruin their lives to make mine better. But as I said, it was death or this. It just was never who I was meant to be.

Today I am happy and so grateful for everything I have and everything I went through. I would never ever change my past or my childhood because it made me into somebody I love and it took a long time to get here. I learned that pain can be worth something and it can be beautiful once it’s overcome. More importantly, I learned that as a girl I am strong and resilient. That I can handle so much more than I thought and that I can achieve anything or even more than what a man can.

I’m fortunate, privileged and lucky. My story could’ve taken several tragic turns. Im lucky that I live in a western country, that I have this possibility of freedom. I’m lucky to be educated and surrounded by wonderful people.

My story isn’t meant to anger people of Muslim faith. In fact, I hope that my story and the many many others that I know are out there will open up a discussion in the Muslim community. Instead of shaming and using scare tactics to control our daughters, we should be teaching them with love, trust and truth. I wouldn’t have left Islam if my parents taught me religion instead of toxic culture. But more importantly, I hope that this might show some girl out there that she definitely isn’t alone and that she’ll make it through.

I know it can be difficult for non-Muslim people to understand how all this is possible or to understand the gravity of it, how common it is and how painful it is. But just imagine all your rights being stripped away from you because you were born a girl. Kind of like being in quarantine for 18 years! It’s funny, I hear all my friends complain about quarantine and not being able to go out or be free and I just laugh to myself and think Imagine that, plus the mental abuse, plus the oppression—because that’s how it felt. Every single day.

How is it acceptable for my father to abuse my mother but not for me to wear a tank top?

How is it okay for my brother to drop out of college but I’m not allowed to stay at the library past a certain hour?

Why is my 40 years old uncle engaged to a 17 year old girl, but I can’t date a man that I meet who loves me and treats me with respect?

Why does a 10 year old boy have more rights than a 30 year old mother?

#reddit

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