Perspective

Eid Mubarak,
I know I am a little late.  It has been a rough and exhausting week.  This Ramadan was a real eye opener for me.  I have discovered myself in ways I never imagined possible.  And in the last week I have seen some real extremes in people.  When I first put on the hijab I was nervous.  I was nervous about how I would be treated by non-Muslims.  Specifically my co-workers.  I didn’t want to suddenly be the black sheep in the office.

Amazingly, my fears were unfounded.  After a few days of uncertainty, most from men who were not sure how to act around me anymore, I have been finding that people are actually nicer to me.  It’s not the forced niceness you see when people don’t really want to deal with you. It’s as if I have earned a new level/type of respect from my coworkers.  They see me in a new light.  I think many of them realize that they really don’t know me.  This has led to many interesting conversations and Q&A sessions.  I am happy to say I feel like I am giving people a very positive view of Islam and Muslim women. 

During Ramadan I did a lot of things.  I prayed, I fasted, I read my Quran etc.  I also participated in a couple of “Ramadan” contests.  Some of the blogs and websites I frequent had giveaways and contests during Ramadan.  One specifically got me all jazzed up.  I will not name the contest or the blog, but the prize was an abaya.  They were all gorgeous and I picked my favorite.

 The contest ran for the whole month.  At the end of the month she named the winner.  The sister she did pick, however, did not establish contact in a reasonable amount of time so she picked another winner.  What came next was embarrassing and horrifying for all who witnessed it.  The friends of the sister who originally won, for lack of a better explanation, flipped out.  One even cussed at the poor woman running the blog.  Really?  Things went from bad to worse when the sister who had originally won finally got online and joined in the fray.  At one point she called out the newest winner to reject the abaya in her favor.  Really?!

 To give the sister who runs the blog credit, she kept her cool.  She stuck by her decision to go with a new winner.  The new winner, poor sister, does not want her name revealed because of all the negativity.  Who can blame her?  I was disappointed as well that I did not win.  But, it’s a dress.  Sure, it’s a beautiful dress I would never normally be able to afford.  But at the end of the day, it’s a dress.  Some were acting like their food and water ration for the day had been cut.  I think what many of those sisters lacked was perspective.  Not to mention appreciation for all that Allah (swt) has given them.  Which is a shame, considering it’s the end of Ramadan, the month where we are supposed to be reflecting on these gifts and thanking Allah (swt) for them.

This last week has been full of highs and lows for me and some of my closest friends.  While the abaya contest was winding down, Hurricane Irene was tearing up the east coast of the United States.   When it was all said and done, many of my friends had no electricity and some had property damage.  One of my friends lost her home completely.  COMPLETELY.  We are talking 4 feet of water and mud in her home.  Every belonging, all the children’s toys in the blink of an eye, gone.  They were evacuated so suddenly they didn’t have a chance to get their cats, who miraculously survived.  But, they are all alive and well, the home and its contents are just that: things.  Perspective, people. 

 The same day my friend lost her home, another mutual friend of ours lost her child.  Her beautiful 3 yr old boy.  This child was so beautiful and strong it broke all of our hearts to lose him.  In the last week we have been raising money to help our friend with this heavy burden.  To my amazement within a few short days we had raised well over $3,000.  In this tough time when everyone is struggling financially, people are pulling it all together to give what they can to help our dear friend Aimee.   People who had never met our friend or her child are giving and offering to help.  Alhamdulillah, there is so much love pouring out to help this woman. 

 My point in telling you these stories is to ask everyone to try to gain a little perspective.  It’s not just about my friends.  But everywhere in the world, people are losing the things they hold dearest to them.  They are struggling to survive.   While we enjoy the safety and the warmth of our homes and comfort of food in our bellies, people all over the world are sleeping under the open sky with empty bellies wondering if they will live another day.  And if they do live, what new horrors will it bring?  Contests are fun, yes, but in the end who cares?  Every day you are here is a gift from Allah (swt), everything you have you have because Allah (swt) made it possible.  Instead of crying over “spilt milk” try thanking Allah (swt)for the gifts he has given you.  Your health, your family, your home, your very life.  Because in the blink of an eye it could all be over and your ingratitude will follow you to judgement. 

 To read Brayton’s story and to help Aimee, please follow this link:

http://icare4causes.yolasite.com/brayton.php

Finding Islam

Well, it is officially Ramadan!  I have been a hijabi for more than a month now and wow it has been an incredible experience.   I have never been so pleased with myself.   I set a goal and I stuck to it.  I think though, that what has made this so easy for me is Allah.   The fact that I do this not for myself or anyone else, but Allah.  To please Allah.  And that makes me happier than I can express. 

 A common theme in the questions I have gotten from people over the last month has been about when I became a Muslim.  Many thought I had just reverted, which embarrassed me terribly.  It was almost as if even they (people who knew nothing about Islam) knew I should have been in hijab longer than I was.  I know that this process is easier for some, but I always felt badly explaining it to others. 

 What I love telling people about is what led me to Islam, and, insha’allah that’s what I will write about today.  I always knew there was something out there for me.  Something more than what I had ever known.   I was always prone to asking tons of questions when it came to faith.  Sometimes my questions offended and other times just appalled people.  I went through a period of thinking that if I couldn’t see it and touch it, it wasn’t there.  I had a rocky relationship with faith.  I always believed in God.  I just didn’t know how to believe in Him.  If that makes any sense.

 Around the time that I went to college I started trying to be a better person.  I made conscious decisions to make myself a better person.  Over the years I changed myself bit by bit.  After 9/11 I had my faith in humanity shaken.  I couldn’t believe that anyone could do something so terrible, and I closed my heart to Islam.  Two years after the towers fell I was living in a different state with a different job.  I got a horrible case of bronchitis that winter and was in bed for nearly 2 weeks.  One morning I popped out of bed wide awake at dawn and it was like a voice in my head was yelling at me to learn about Islam.  I picked up my laptop and went to work researching everything I could.  Amazingly, for all the hate there is online, I never came across a single Anti-Islamic page in those early months. 

 I read passages from the Quran and read about the five pillars.  I found an online community of Muslims on (of all things) Yahoo! Chat who taught me SO MUCH.  One day, while in chat, someone played the Athaan over the speakers.  It stopped me in my tracks.  I closed my eyes and listened for a moment, amazed at how sweet it sounded to my ears.  When it was over I realized I had been crying.   It awakened a memory long forgotten.  I asked what it was, what was that chanting?  When I was told what it was I was amazed.  And I told them this story.  Years ago, during the first Gulf War, I was standing in my living room while the news was on.  The reporter was somewhere in the Middle East,Kuwait or Saudi Arabia probably.  In the background was this chanting.  I had no idea what it was, or who was doing it.  I didn’t know what a Muslim was or what Islam was.  I was maybe 11-12 years old.  But I remember hearing the chanting playing from a loud-speaker, and the reporter speaking louder.  Even though I didn’t know what it was, I was upset that he continued to speak over it.  I felt that he should have stopped speaking.   I wanted to hear it.  Something inside me recognized it and wanted to hear it more!  When the reporters story was over they changed to something else and the sound was gone.  I never heard it again until that day in 2004.  It had the same effect on me then, but I explained it away as pre-teen hysteria.   

 I don’t believe it was a coincidence.   A short while after the first time I heard the Athaan I was the victim of a violent assault.  I was never the same person I was that day.  It hardened my heart and changed me.   I also do not believe it to be a coincidence that nearly 12 years later I heard the Athaan again and I was closer to being the person I was when I first heard it.  I spent a great deal of time and energy getting back to that person.  I believe that Allah brought me to Islam both times.  I was not ready the first time.  And He brought me back a second time when He knew I was ready. 

 I thank Allah everyday for my second chance.  For showing me the beauty of Islam.  I have never felt more at peace with myself then I do now.  My life has more meaning, more purpose.  I only wish that one day everyone could know this beauty and could feel this love that I have for Allah too.  I know that will not happen for everyone, but I still wish it could!  To you all, I want to express my deepest gratitude, for letting me share all this with you.   

 Ramadan Mubarak!  May Allah bless you all and your families!  Ameen.

Haraam: The things we give up for the sake of Allah

Over the last 7 years since I became a Muslim I have found myself in many situations where I have had to politely decline an offer of food or an invitation out.  I am inevitably asked why I don’t eat pork or drink alcohol.  Explaining that it is against my religion usually gets quick acceptance and even admiration that I take my religion that seriously.  On more than one occasion someone has mistaken my aversion to pork as a religious obligation to mean that I am Jewish, and the ensuing conversation is usually amusing, especially given my background.  Many think that I have always avoided pork and alcohol.  Oh ho, not true.  Let me be clear, before I became a Muslim I lived as any normal American.  This means that I had an alcoholic drink at least once a week and pork was involved in at least 2 of every meal of every day.  It wasn’t until I cut both out of my life that I realized how deeply ingrained they are in American culture and how difficult it is to avoid them.  The level of dedication that this has taken has surprised even me.  I remember they were the first things I gave up when I became a Muslim.  I thought to myself, if I can give these two things up I can do anything! 

 The Quran addresses dietary laws in a number of places, most notably:

 “He has only forbidden you dead meat and blood and swine flesh, and that (food) over which the name of other than God has been invoked; but if one is forced by necessity, without willful disobedience nor transgressing due limit, then truly God is Forgiving, Merciful.” (Quran 16:115 & 2:173)

“O you who believe! Intoxicants and gambling, idols, and raffles, are only a filthy work of Satan; turn aside from them so that you may prosper. Satan only wants to stir up enmity and jealously among you by means of intoxicants and gambling, and to hinder you from remembering God, and from praying. So will you not then abstain?” (Quran 5:90-91)

 These two verses cover pork and alcohol as well as other dietary and lifestyle “rules”.  There are many who see these laws and complain, saying that it is too difficult to abide by such laws.  They ask how I can possibly do it.  I tell them first and foremost it’s not just me.  There are more than 1.8 billion (that’s BILLION with a B) Muslims in the world who don’t eat pork and don’t drink alcohol.  Now, many of them have never eaten pork or a pork product.  They have no idea what it tastes like.  For those of us who give it up for the sake of Allah, we know the challenges it presents.  10 years ago I was the person who told you, if you want to make something better add bacon!  Burgers, eggs, sandwiches, ice cream!  Add bacon!  I am supremely glad I found Islam before they made bacon ice cream. 

Once you get past the idea of giving up food that you may or may not like, there is now a new problem:  How to avoid pork products.  Because it is a relatively cheap animal to raise and process, scientists have found ways to use pork in just about everything.  From pharmaceuticals to food to hair care, it is astounding to find out just how much pork is in everyday life in America.  When I gave it up I had NO idea what a lifestyle change it was going to require.  It’s worse than going gluten-free.  Gelatin is the pork by-product that is used the most everywhere.  Gelatin is, in turn, everywhere.  It’s not just in the obvious bowl of jello.  Soon after I became a Muslim I found out my hair conditioner had gelatin in it.  Then my favorite Noxema face cream.  Next it was my hair gel.  Nail polish and some nail polish removers.  Make up.  I found out that commercially produced cheesecake many times had gelatin in it.  They use it as a setting agent to prevent the cheesecake from cracking during baking.  Ice Cream, sour cream, I found gelatin in RICOTTA Cheese!  REALLY GUYS?  Pop Tarts and even store-bought cakes with fruit filling.  The worst so far is medicine.  I have yet to find a woman’s daily vitamin without gelatin.  Children’s chewables were difficult, but I did find vitamins for my children.  I have had to ask my pharmacist to make my prescriptions in tablet form, many times requiring my prescription to be re-written.  I have had to open pills to get the medicine out, because the capsules they come in are pure gelatin.  And yes, I do all this for the sake of Allah.  Because Allah loves me so much, he told me what not to eat.  He told me what is bad for me. 

I have the same issue with alcohol.  Not drinking alcohol is easy.  But try going to a restaurant and ordering a meal that doesn’t have alcohol in it.  Many foods are cooked in alcohol.  Many times alcohol is simply used to de-glaze a pan.  It in turn flavors the food.  Now, there is MUCH debate about whether alcohol cooks off and how much you actually consume when you eat food that has been cooked in alcohol.  But if your main goal in life is to please Allah (God), why would you risk displeasing Him?  Seems easy enough to avoid it, right?  I wish it were that easy.  I have found alcohol in prepackaged foods.  Sometimes I argue with myself about the “rightness”/”wrongness” in taking cold medicine with alcohol in it.  It is not that Islamic Dietary laws have made me crazy.  I truly want to do right.   I trust that my decisions are the correct ones.  And I believe that only Allah really knows. 

We as Muslims face these challenges everyday as we strive to please Allah.  It is our faith and our love for Allah that makes each difficulty easier. 

“Rabbana la tu’akhizna in-nasina aw akh-ta’na. Rab-bana wa la tahmil ‘alayna isran kama hamaltahu ‘ala-lladhina min qablina, Rab-bana wa la tuhammilna ma la taqata lana bih, wa-’fu ‘anna wa ‘ghfirlana warhamna anta Maulana fansurna ‘alal-qawmil kafirin.”

“Our Lord! do not punish us if we forget or make mistake; Our Lord! do not lay on us a burden as Thou didst lay on those before us; Our Lord! do not impose upon us that which we have not the strength to bear; and pardon us and grant us protection and have mercy on us, Thou art our Patron, so help us against the unbelieving people.” (2:286)

The first day of the rest of your life

Yesterday was my first full day as a Hijabi.  When I woke up I was full of nervous tension.  The week had already been thrown off by illness and I was going back to work after 2 days home sick with strep throat.  I was sleep deprived and still a bit headachy.  Probably not the best day to start something new, but this was the biggest day of my life!  The first day of the rest of my life!  I won’t bore you with all the details, but the hardest part was getting out of bed!  As I got to work I was excited, here I was going to work for the first time as a Hijabi! 

Within minutes of my arrival people began noticing the “new” me.   I was asked a ton of questions, non more amusing than “Did you turn into a Muslim?”  I had images of Alice in Wonderland in my head.  Did I eat it or drink it?  I was asked if I graduated, what my hijab signified, did my husband like it etc.  It was becoming painfully obvious what I already knew, I am the first Muslim most of them have ever known or seen up close.  I am supremely honored.  To be given the opportunity to present a Muslim face to my coworkers, many of whom have only seen Muslims on TV and know Islam only through 9/11 captions, is humbling to say the very least.  It is overwhelming as well.  I have a great responsiblity to show Islam at it’s best, it’s very best.  I want my coworkers to walk away from this experience thinking “Wow, Islam is not what Fox News tells me it is”  “Islam is not this terrible thing” “Muslim women are not all oppressed” 

I was asked what my inspiration was.  What led me to decide to become a Hijabi.  And to be honest, there was no one thing.  It was a series of events.  When I became a Muslim it was always my intention to become a Hijabi, it was just a matter of when I felt I was ready.   A year ago tomorrow I was involved in a terrifying traffic incident.  I was driving home from work when I got caught in a hail storm.  Golf ball sized hail came out of a sudden storm and pounded my car so hard I stopped in my tracks on the road.  My windshield bounced with the force of it.  What was a simple thunderstorm became something horrible in the blink of an eye.  Tree pieces began flying and my car was pelted from all sides with debris.  Alhamdulillah, Thanks be to God, my children were not with me.  The wind suddenly picked up with such force I could not see in front of my car.  Later there were unconfirmed reports of a tornado on the road I was on.  The weather folks later said it was a microburst, but those who lived it and filmed it say otherwise.  I sat in my car and prayed.  Prayed that I wouldn’t get swept away (I was right beside the river), prayed my windshield wouldn’t shatter on me, prayed I would get home.  When it was all over my car had almost $2,000 dollars worth of damage.  I was a changed person.  I was terrified that I was going to die.  And I had not done all the things I wanted to do.  I was not ready for Judgement.  And that scared me more than anything.  I never intended for my first time in hijab to be in the grave.  From there on out I started wearing the hijab on the weekends, whenever I went out.  It wasn’t every day, it wasn’t even every weekend.  But I slowly built myself up, until I was only not wearing the hijab when I was at work. 

About two months after this incident I started looking around for other Hijabis.  As it turns out, there were plenty.  I had just never noticed before.  One day while in Walmart (seems I spend a lot of time there) I walked past a woman in full gear.  An abaya and full niqab.  Just the slits of her eyes were visible.  I was amazed.  Here I was worried about wearing a hijab, and she had gone full-scale in the middle of the deep south.  And the fact that no one in the store bothered her or batted an eye told me I had nothing to worry about.

Six months ago I read a most inspiring story.  A woman in North Carolina wrote the story in Oprahs’ O Magazine and it was published in the June ’10 issue.  It was called “Chosing to Wear the Muslim Headscarf” by Krista Bremer.  I will post the link at the bottom of this post.  Here was a 9-year-old girl who made the decision to veil.  All on her own!  Her mother is a Christian!  It was so uplifting.  Reading the story I knew I could do it, I knew if this child could do it so could I! 

And so here we are, at the end of my second full day as a Hijabi.  I feel ready to conquer the world!  I wish I had done this sooner!  I will admit, I have yet to face any real hostility.  I did notice a few people at work avoid eye contact, one person even seems to avoid looking at me all together.  But whether this is uncertainty on their part or hostility has yet to be established.  For now I will go with the idea that they just don’t know how to act around me now.  Wearing a hijab kind of declares for all that you are conservative and don’t wish to be “eye balled”.  Time will tell.

Now, I feel like I have jabbered at you long enough.  I have a question for YOU.  I would like you to comment and tell me, tell all of us, what inspires YOU?  What has guided you towards Islam, towards the Hijab?  You can also ask me anything you like.  I feel like for the past month I have gabbed away about what I want, tell me what YOU want! 

Here is that link I promised: http://www.oprah.com/spirit/Choosing-to-Wear-the-Muslim-Headscarf

Does God make you uncomfortable?

Lately I am finding some people have an odd reaction when I tell them I am going to start wearing the hijab.  For the most part, people who know me and are close to me know what this means to me and are very supportive.  Then there are the others.  I get asked “why?” a lot.  Which leads me to explain, in the simplest terms “because God told me to”.  Now, no one (at least not yet) has thought I meant that God spoke directly to me.  They know what I mean.  But inevitably I get the scrunching of foreheads and squinting of eyes that indicates they are uncomfortable with my answer.  Very uncomfortable.  It seems to me, speaking of God in these terms makes people uncomfortable.  And it makes me ask: Why?  Why does God make you uncomfortable?  

I know that if I chose to wear daisy dukes and a belly shirt with a push up bra and my girls hanging out, if someone asked me why I wanted to dress that way and I responded “to make a boy like me” or “to look sexy” no one would bat an eye.  In some cases I might get advice on how to show myself to my best advantage.  “Put on more rouge”  “Wear the stiletto heels” ”Put your hair up like this” are some of the things I would probably hear.  I would get advice on how to market myself sexually, to be blunt.  That makes no one uncomfortable.  The idea of and the fact of women walking around half-naked in public makes no one uncomfortable.  It is in fact expected.  In rejecting this ideal, I am rejecting a very large part of current American/Western society.  That makes many people very, very uncomfortable.   

Today, modest women are a bit of an enigma.  We seem to be abnormal in a sense.  It seems to beg the question, did we miss the Feminist Movement?  Did we not know we were liberated and hence free to show ourselves in the most provocative manner we could think of?  Nah.  I didn’t miss it.  Been there, done that.  And found it to be seriously lacking and not at all satisfying, morally or intellectually.  I think the feminist movement has been twisted around to suit men.  We are back to pleasing men, only this time, we have been convinced it is to please ourselves.  Well, where is God?  Does no one care about pleasing God anymore?  Does any one even think about God anymore?   There are people who claim to be religious (of many faiths), who only go to church or synagogue or mosque on the required dates or high holidays.  They flaunt the laws God passed down and follow that which pleases them.  But I mention that I am doing something to please God, these people get tongue-tied.  They cannot wrap their brains around it.  After they shuffle that aside, the look switches to passive pity.  “Oh you poor thing” is the look I get.  And then the question ” Does your husband want you to do it?”  What does he think of it?”  Probing questions that really mean ” is he making you?”  Because we all know a covered woman is an oppressed woman. 

To these people I say:  I AM A FREE WOMAN.  I am an educated free thinking woman.  I got my degree in Sociology 10 years ago and studied with some of the greatest legal and professional minds on Beacon Hill in Boston, Ma.  I have read my Bible, old testament and new.  I have read my Quran.  I grew up guided by a  strong-willed feminist who taught me to think for myself and never let a man control me.  I AM A FREE WOMAN.  I reject the idea that my worth is in my physique, my face, my fashion, my hairstyle, the sway of my hips etc.  My worth is in my character.  My worth is in my good deeds.  My worth is not determined by man, but by God.  I have never been more self-confident or more sure of myself than when I wear my hijab.  I have taken back control of myself and the way others see me.  I am a God-fearing Muslimah.  If that makes you uncomfortable, ask yourself: WHY?

Reaching out and connecting

I had an experience the other day that really highlighted and reaffirmed for me why I want to document my journey to the hijab and even my experience in Islam.  My family went for a shopping trip to Walmart.  A simple trip really, we were replacing our iron.  Well, this Walmart is brand new and larger than the one near our house so we ended up walking around a bit.  On our way out of the clothing department and over to produce we passed a woman.  A woman who easily outweighed me by 40+ lbs and was at least 5 inches taller than me.  As I rounded the corner she caught sight of my hijab.  It was a pale lavender two piece amira with a black cap underneath.  I wasn’t dressed particularly strange, long sleeved blue t-shirt with blue jeans and sneakers.  Her eyes bulged.  Not a muscle in that womans face moved, but her eyes said it all.  Shock.  Fear.  She seemed stuck in place for a moment.  I smiled brightly, trying in vain to put her at ease.  And as I walked past her, I involuntarily shook my head.  Behind me I heard my husband giggle.  It was just enough, I burst out laughing.  I don’t like to laugh at people, it’s mean and rude.  But it was really the only outlet for all I was thinking and feeling right then.  I told my husband “I bet she goes straight home and calls her friends and tells them she barely escaped Walmart with her life”.  He told me that as she passed me she looked at him and then back at me and back again to him.   This is a reaction we are quite used to.  Being an interracial couple we get looks here and there.  I think that and the hijab were just too much for her to comprehend all at once. 

This is why I do must do this.  To think that this woman was AFRAID of me.  OF ME?!  You may not know me, but I am not someone to be afraid of.  I may not be soft spoken (in fact I am quite loud at times) but I am tender hearted.  It’s all over my face.  But it wasn’t me she was afraid of.  It was my hijab.  It was my religion.  Had I not been covered she would have never known I was a Muslim and may have even smiled back at me.  This is what I feel I must get out there and express to non-Muslims.  There is nothing to be afraid of.  There is so much misunderstanding and fear.  Not to mention an unhealthy dose of misinformation from people with agendas.  I want to invite non-Muslims into my journey to see where the differences really are, and where the similarities are also.  Having grown up in a very diverse family, I know how similar we all are: Jews, Christians and Muslims.  With the blanket of tolerance and understanding I was raised.  I hold on very dearly to it. 

 But I also do this for other Muslims.  For other reverts.  I searched and searched and found nothing online or in my offline life that could support or even match my experience.  And I thought to myself, I cannot be all that different.  There have to be other Muslims like me.  Since I cannot find them, I must reach out and show myself.  And make it known:  I am not perfect.  I will never claim to be an authority on anything related to Islam, Christianity or Judaism.  I only know my experience.  I only know my struggle.  I find so many reverts struggle so hard to find their own identity in Islam once they find Islam.  And so many reject their old life completely and to the exclusion of all things Arab or all things they deem wholly “Islamic”.  Sometimes it results in extreme behavior.  Other times it results in backsliding into old behaviors and finally into falling out of Islam completely.  I do believe that Islam can be accepted and worked into any culture.  I do believe I can be American while being Muslim and not compromise either.  I believe I can be traditional and non-traditional at the same time. 

My husband would tell you I am a walking contradiction.  I would agree.  In this I think it gives me the perfect platform from which to speak to other reverts and say LOOK, it works.  Islam is a way of life.  It’s a life long process, one we will spend the rest of our lives trying to perfect.  Take your time.  Do things step by step. 

I want more than ever to bridge the gap between the two; Muslim and non-Muslim.  I know I cannot do it alone, but if we all reached out a hand eventually someone will take it.

La ilaha illa Allah: There is no god but God.

Seven years ago I made the biggest change in my life.  I became a Muslim.  With a few short sentences, Shahada, my life was changed forever.  As Ramadan approaches (rather quickly I might add) I find myself turning inward and exploring myself and my Islam; my Deen.  I have spent the last seven years acclimating myself to my new life.  I made many changes most folks would never know about.  I have had challenges so far that would have broken a weaker spirit.  Disappointment in myself and fear of continuing the same mistakes propels me to take this next momentous step.   I have decided to wear the hijab.  It seems so simple to write that.  Those seven words hold so much meaning.   So much apprehension and nervous trepidation is in that sentence.  I have made it these last seven years almost on my own. 

An online community of Muslims helped guide me into Islam and find myself in it, but this step I do on my own.   I haven’t been in touch with them in years and even then, where I live I do not know any other Muslims.  Sure, there are Muslims here.  I have seen sisters in the grocery store, in Walmart or walking down the street with their families.  I know where the local Mosque is.  Have I walked in?  No.  I must.  I want to.  I need to.  I have to.   I will.  If I don’t do it for myself, I must do it for my children.  I have two children, boys, ages 5 and soon to be 3 (yes my house is Bedlam).   I may be able to do this on my own for myself, but I cannot expect or do the same for my children.  In less than 10 years my boys will be required to attend a mosque for Friday prayers.  I must get them in one first.  For someone still learning about Islam, this is a lifelong journey, not just something you can pick up in a semesters worth of study.  How can I, while still learning, fully teach my children?  There is SO much I must teach them, and not just Islam.  They must know where they come from to understand where they are going. 

It is the fear of not doing right by my children that fuels my fire.  God has ordered us to do many things.  I must do all of these things.  Step by step, inch by inch I will get there.  I have decided to document this transition in this way to give hope and support to other Muslimahs, American or otherwise.  I also want to give non-Muslims a peak into the life of an American Revert to maybe answer some questions and show that we are the same.  Seriously.  A piece of cloth on my head does not change who I am fundamentally.  It does not make me a different person.  I am and will be the same person you saw last week.  Just with a new article of clothing.