Salam Aleykam,
This week has been such a struggle for me. I know that Shaitan is locked up, but I'm still feeling things that I just don't want to be feeling, especially during Ramazan. If I'm not crying then I'm furious and engaging in ridiculous flame wars on internet forums. I'm too old for that nonsense.
Ramazan has so many benefits, and a part of me feels like I'm wasting it.. like I'm not experiencing the full greatness of it. I've been mired in self-pity lately, ruminating on the past, feeling persecuted and misunderstood. I usually don't care what other people think of me. I know I'm better than ignorant assumptions, but I've been getting so riled up about some recent altercations, both in real life and here in cyberia.
So, Ramazan is letting me know what's become a part of me and what has been Shaitan whispering in my ears. It's hard to work through these things, because I still don't know how to distinguish what's bipolar and relatively unchangeable, and what's me that I can change.
I've had a depression coming on for the past couple of months, preceded by a hypomania that I halted by putting life on hold. I've succeeded in preventing the usual summer manic episode by basically disappearing from the outside world and ignoring obligations, deadlines, etc. That's what I'm supposed to do when the stress is too much, it's what is always being advised by my handlers. I'm usually too keen to succeed to relax like that, it makes me feel like a failure. And, according to my handlers, this is due to my unhealthy perfectionist attitude, but I'm so far from perfect that I just can't accept that assessment. Anyway, I actually did that this summer, because I just could handle another mania. But this disengagement with reality and life has slowly, slowly, been turning into the lonesome lows. It's not enough to say that this is chemical, I'm married now! My greatest desire has been realized, we've both turned to Allah with devotion and so much love, and our love for each other just.. grows. Every day it grows. I have no reason to be sad.
But oh God: It hurts so much. I am just so, sad! I'm so grateful for everything, and I know that I have no reason to be sad. Whatever horrible things that have happened are in the past, I am truly, truly blessed with what I have right now, I really have everything that I need. I have a wonderful husband and marriage, an increased iman, I'm not in poverty, I'm doing well in school, everything is just fine. But my heart hurts, and every morning after J. leaves for work, it's only a matter of time before the tears start.
So at least let me learn, what is within me and really me, so that I might change it.
I'm an angry lion, I am an emotional elephant. During Ramazan and Eid, on family member's birthdays and certain anniversaries... I just obsess about the past. I am so angry, and I make dua that this anger be extinguished, because it is so destructive, and I hate the way it burns or threatens to burn, everything all around me.
I don't feel as sincere in my fasting because of all of these emotions.
I wish that J. was on vacation now, his work days are as long as ever, very seldom less than twelve hours. I feel horrible for his struggle, although he's doing better than I am. Look at him, working physical labour and fasting, and yes he's struggling, but I'm here at home and I'm the one who's a wreck.
Hasbun Allah wa nimal wakeel, I know, but I just want to be hugged all day. J's the only person I can cry in front of, and even then, it's something I would like to avoid. Last night he wiped away the single tear that fell from my eye when I told him that I can't stop dreaming of my family. He held me and said all of the right things, and I did feel better, but I didn't open up enough to let it all out. That's what online is for, right? It's so much easier to say these things in writing to strangers, rather than have to open up in real life and be vulnerable like that.
Boo hoo, I just need to get over myself.
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Struggling, struggling, struggling, during this wonderful time of the year
Salam Aleykam and Ramazan Mubarak,
Indeed, Ramazan is the most wonderful time of the year. Fasting forces us to give up all of the pleasures of this world and focus on performing the prayers and deeds that will help determine our fate in the next world. Fasting is purifying for us both physically and spiritually; it restrains our desires, removes the possibility of excess, and encourages charity, a sense of community, and general feelings of goodwill and piety. And of course, it’s so much easier to do all of these things because Shaitan is locked up.
So why do I feel so miserable? This should be the happiest Ramazan of my life, since I have someone to share it with, a source of support to me as I am a source of support to him. And in that way, it is wonderful. This morning, after J. had turned off one alarm and I had turned off the other, as my still-sleeping body was falling back towards the bed, J. caught me half-way and pushed me up again. “Come on, mama,” he said. “I’ll get up now, too.” Usually I get up first and make breakfast and then I wake J. up when the food is ready, but he literally held me up to make sure we’d get up on time. If I was alone, I’m pretty sure I would have slept in, I felt so tired. But with J. here with me, marital teamwork ensured that sleep didn’t overcome us.
So, in that way, this Ramazan is very special. But, like last Ramazan, I’m feeling so emotional at times that I’ll just burst into tears at least once a day. I know that part of it is because of low blood sugar, and that will happen to me any time during the year when I wait too long between meals. I become an emotional wreck, and when I feel that coming on when I’m not fasting, it’s easy enough to fix with a granola bar or glass of orange juice. But now, with these almost sixteen hour fasts, relief is always hours away.
It doesn’t help that my best friend, cigarettes, are also forbidden to me. That’s gotta be where half this over-emotionality is coming from. InshAllah I’ll be able to kick that disgusting habit for good this time. J. hates it so much, and I always said I’d quit when we got married, but then it was “I have to quit drinking first, I can’t do both at the same time”, then, “I can’t right now, I have too many assignments due and I can’t afford the extra stress” then “I have exams, I can’t quit during exams” and then it was “I’ll quit during Ramazan, it’ll be easier then...” So inshAllah this time I can actually do it. For those reading, please make dua that this poor slave can pull through the cravings long enough to break the habit. At least when I was quitting drinking, I had smoking to fall back on.
And then, of course, there is the whole family issue. Missing them, but also resenting them, and still feeling so much anger towards my father, an anger that is just too brutal to deal with during this holy month. Yesterday when I tried to sleep, I dreamt a sad dream of my family. When I woke up, I cried, and then I was overcome with anger.. not just at my father, but at all men, and all the violence they do, and everything they get away with, and the justifications for all of those things that people just... accept! As if it makes any sense, as if you can ever really justify these things, the pure violence of a beating or the softer violence of the status quo, the one that says that men are this way and women are that way, so men can or must do this because it is natural for them and a woman who takes issue with it somehow just confirms the stereotypes that breed this supposed disobedience in the first place.... I just can’t stand it.
This is very, very hard for me when I see things in Islam that just don’t make sense to me. And I don’t mean the stuff that bigots always bring up when lambasting Islam, like the four wives and “beat your wife” thing. I disagree with polygamy for these times because I don’t see it as necessary in a first world country, but for third world countries and the time of the Prophet s.a.w., it makes perfect sense. Likewise, I know that “beating the wife” is a symbolic gesture to express displeasure, and of the twenty five different meanings of the Arabic word, “beat” is much better expressed as “drive away” than “abuse”.
But there are still some things that trouble me... namely the idea that men can just do whatever they want and it’s okay, but women aren’t allowed to, any woman who does want to do such things must not be a normal woman, because it’s somehow considered unnatural for a woman to desire the same things as a man.
I know that so much of it is tied in to my experiences and what I grew up with, having my dad cheat on my mom all the time, the way he would actually brag about it and in his smug way, try to justify it, and encourage my brothers to fornicate too. And the constant threats against me, the outlandish accusations, his need to constantly remind me that women are whores and women only exist to please men, and some women are destined to be whores but Muslim women are only for their husbands...
Of course it made me hate the idea of sex, and loathe men in general, which sucked because I actually get along better with guys. I feel like we have more in common, but such friendships were only possible when I could de-sex them, a symbolic castration that let me consider the possibility that men had hearts and weren’t just walking wangs propelled by that fat sense of entitlement and the piggidy sex-greed they all seem to have.
Honestly, I consider myself a lesbian who fell in love with a man. I was and am physically attracted to women, but not emotionally, which makes it easy not to get involved in that stuff. When I realized I was attracted to J., it definitely was the shock of a lifetime. Especially because he’s such a manly man. And I love that about him! I consider him the epitomy of masculinity, and I find it extremely attractive. I really am incredibly, incredibly attracted to him, and our relationship is quite traditional when it comes to gender roles. My friends tend to be surprised by that, since I’m such an angry feminist, but it really works for us.
And yet, honestly, I don’t consider myself completely female. With J, I am very womanly by the standard definition, but in my interactions with others, my general attitude is much more “manly”, at least by the standards of hegemonic masculinity. When it comes to J. and my cats (cats in general actually, and other adorable animals), I’m want to gush about their incredible cuteness, something I’ll probably end up doing with babies over time, although I’m just now starting to see children as something other than expensive nuisances. I faun over J. and am always attendant to his every desire, I’m the perfect host when guests are over, I take responsibility for other people’s emotions too often, I’m a very good cook and baker, I’m very clean, and I make an effort with my appearance. These are considered womanly qualities. But I’m also very hard-working and ambitious, I have a horrible temper, a fierce determination to succeed, excellent critical reasoning skills, a very strong sense of justice and courage, and I struggle to keep my gaze lowered when I see a very attractive woman go by in a low-cut dress. Aren’t those considered manly qualities?
Being split as I am in this gender continuum, what does this make me? Anatomically, I’m female, and when it comes to love, I definitely feel more female, because I don’t believe that men are capable of loving the way that women do. Yet I feel more like a man than a woman at times, but I suffer all of the disadvantages that women do. What does this make me? If I have the love of a woman and the sexual desire of a man, why is it that I am supposed to accept that men have higher sex drives, the idea that justifies male promiscuity but calls it natural? Why are men promised such sexual rewards in heaven, but women aren’t promised anything of that nature? Let me tell you, so long as my husband is chaste, I only have eyes for him, but if he was to go whore around, I would want the same option to do that myself. As it is, I keep my gaze lowered because it’s the right thing to do and I respect my husband too much to do otherwise. But if he were to betray my love and seek pleasure elsewhere, I would want to do the same. Not because I can’t keep it in my pants, but because I don’t see how it’s okay for men and not okay for women.
I’m really struggling with these things right now. I’m so angry and confused. And add guilt to that, because it’s Ramazan, and I know that I’m not supposed to be feeling this way. Instead of feeling the warmth and peace of Ramazans past, I’m feeling very angry and bitter, and I’m unsure if my fasts will even be accepted, for all this negativity I’ve got inside me. I know that I’ve got to deal with the family stuff, it’s probably the only way I can make sense of these questions I have now. But it hurts, and I guess it’s easier for me to latch on to the wider issue of gender relations and the legal and holy laws governing them, rather than confront the very complicated feelings I have about my family, and especially my father. Who was the cruel one who dug up my graveyard? I could really do without these ghosts, right now.
Indeed, Ramazan is the most wonderful time of the year. Fasting forces us to give up all of the pleasures of this world and focus on performing the prayers and deeds that will help determine our fate in the next world. Fasting is purifying for us both physically and spiritually; it restrains our desires, removes the possibility of excess, and encourages charity, a sense of community, and general feelings of goodwill and piety. And of course, it’s so much easier to do all of these things because Shaitan is locked up.
So why do I feel so miserable? This should be the happiest Ramazan of my life, since I have someone to share it with, a source of support to me as I am a source of support to him. And in that way, it is wonderful. This morning, after J. had turned off one alarm and I had turned off the other, as my still-sleeping body was falling back towards the bed, J. caught me half-way and pushed me up again. “Come on, mama,” he said. “I’ll get up now, too.” Usually I get up first and make breakfast and then I wake J. up when the food is ready, but he literally held me up to make sure we’d get up on time. If I was alone, I’m pretty sure I would have slept in, I felt so tired. But with J. here with me, marital teamwork ensured that sleep didn’t overcome us.
So, in that way, this Ramazan is very special. But, like last Ramazan, I’m feeling so emotional at times that I’ll just burst into tears at least once a day. I know that part of it is because of low blood sugar, and that will happen to me any time during the year when I wait too long between meals. I become an emotional wreck, and when I feel that coming on when I’m not fasting, it’s easy enough to fix with a granola bar or glass of orange juice. But now, with these almost sixteen hour fasts, relief is always hours away.
It doesn’t help that my best friend, cigarettes, are also forbidden to me. That’s gotta be where half this over-emotionality is coming from. InshAllah I’ll be able to kick that disgusting habit for good this time. J. hates it so much, and I always said I’d quit when we got married, but then it was “I have to quit drinking first, I can’t do both at the same time”, then, “I can’t right now, I have too many assignments due and I can’t afford the extra stress” then “I have exams, I can’t quit during exams” and then it was “I’ll quit during Ramazan, it’ll be easier then...” So inshAllah this time I can actually do it. For those reading, please make dua that this poor slave can pull through the cravings long enough to break the habit. At least when I was quitting drinking, I had smoking to fall back on.
And then, of course, there is the whole family issue. Missing them, but also resenting them, and still feeling so much anger towards my father, an anger that is just too brutal to deal with during this holy month. Yesterday when I tried to sleep, I dreamt a sad dream of my family. When I woke up, I cried, and then I was overcome with anger.. not just at my father, but at all men, and all the violence they do, and everything they get away with, and the justifications for all of those things that people just... accept! As if it makes any sense, as if you can ever really justify these things, the pure violence of a beating or the softer violence of the status quo, the one that says that men are this way and women are that way, so men can or must do this because it is natural for them and a woman who takes issue with it somehow just confirms the stereotypes that breed this supposed disobedience in the first place.... I just can’t stand it.
This is very, very hard for me when I see things in Islam that just don’t make sense to me. And I don’t mean the stuff that bigots always bring up when lambasting Islam, like the four wives and “beat your wife” thing. I disagree with polygamy for these times because I don’t see it as necessary in a first world country, but for third world countries and the time of the Prophet s.a.w., it makes perfect sense. Likewise, I know that “beating the wife” is a symbolic gesture to express displeasure, and of the twenty five different meanings of the Arabic word, “beat” is much better expressed as “drive away” than “abuse”.
But there are still some things that trouble me... namely the idea that men can just do whatever they want and it’s okay, but women aren’t allowed to, any woman who does want to do such things must not be a normal woman, because it’s somehow considered unnatural for a woman to desire the same things as a man.
I know that so much of it is tied in to my experiences and what I grew up with, having my dad cheat on my mom all the time, the way he would actually brag about it and in his smug way, try to justify it, and encourage my brothers to fornicate too. And the constant threats against me, the outlandish accusations, his need to constantly remind me that women are whores and women only exist to please men, and some women are destined to be whores but Muslim women are only for their husbands...
Of course it made me hate the idea of sex, and loathe men in general, which sucked because I actually get along better with guys. I feel like we have more in common, but such friendships were only possible when I could de-sex them, a symbolic castration that let me consider the possibility that men had hearts and weren’t just walking wangs propelled by that fat sense of entitlement and the piggidy sex-greed they all seem to have.
Honestly, I consider myself a lesbian who fell in love with a man. I was and am physically attracted to women, but not emotionally, which makes it easy not to get involved in that stuff. When I realized I was attracted to J., it definitely was the shock of a lifetime. Especially because he’s such a manly man. And I love that about him! I consider him the epitomy of masculinity, and I find it extremely attractive. I really am incredibly, incredibly attracted to him, and our relationship is quite traditional when it comes to gender roles. My friends tend to be surprised by that, since I’m such an angry feminist, but it really works for us.
And yet, honestly, I don’t consider myself completely female. With J, I am very womanly by the standard definition, but in my interactions with others, my general attitude is much more “manly”, at least by the standards of hegemonic masculinity. When it comes to J. and my cats (cats in general actually, and other adorable animals), I’m want to gush about their incredible cuteness, something I’ll probably end up doing with babies over time, although I’m just now starting to see children as something other than expensive nuisances. I faun over J. and am always attendant to his every desire, I’m the perfect host when guests are over, I take responsibility for other people’s emotions too often, I’m a very good cook and baker, I’m very clean, and I make an effort with my appearance. These are considered womanly qualities. But I’m also very hard-working and ambitious, I have a horrible temper, a fierce determination to succeed, excellent critical reasoning skills, a very strong sense of justice and courage, and I struggle to keep my gaze lowered when I see a very attractive woman go by in a low-cut dress. Aren’t those considered manly qualities?
Being split as I am in this gender continuum, what does this make me? Anatomically, I’m female, and when it comes to love, I definitely feel more female, because I don’t believe that men are capable of loving the way that women do. Yet I feel more like a man than a woman at times, but I suffer all of the disadvantages that women do. What does this make me? If I have the love of a woman and the sexual desire of a man, why is it that I am supposed to accept that men have higher sex drives, the idea that justifies male promiscuity but calls it natural? Why are men promised such sexual rewards in heaven, but women aren’t promised anything of that nature? Let me tell you, so long as my husband is chaste, I only have eyes for him, but if he was to go whore around, I would want the same option to do that myself. As it is, I keep my gaze lowered because it’s the right thing to do and I respect my husband too much to do otherwise. But if he were to betray my love and seek pleasure elsewhere, I would want to do the same. Not because I can’t keep it in my pants, but because I don’t see how it’s okay for men and not okay for women.
I’m really struggling with these things right now. I’m so angry and confused. And add guilt to that, because it’s Ramazan, and I know that I’m not supposed to be feeling this way. Instead of feeling the warmth and peace of Ramazans past, I’m feeling very angry and bitter, and I’m unsure if my fasts will even be accepted, for all this negativity I’ve got inside me. I know that I’ve got to deal with the family stuff, it’s probably the only way I can make sense of these questions I have now. But it hurts, and I guess it’s easier for me to latch on to the wider issue of gender relations and the legal and holy laws governing them, rather than confront the very complicated feelings I have about my family, and especially my father. Who was the cruel one who dug up my graveyard? I could really do without these ghosts, right now.
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Subhan'Allah
Subhan'Allah, my husband was tested yesterday and I am so proud of him.
He has only told a few people that he accepted Islam because some of his family members are really intolerant and racist. He wants to know everything possible about Islam before telling everyone, because he doesn't want his lack of knowledge to make it easier for people to attack Islam and have him not be able to defend it.
Yesterday when he was at work, one of his coworkers came up to him and said, "Hey, I have a Muslim joke for you."
J. was struck with dread, and thought, I'm being tested now. If I speak up, then by tomorrow, everyone at the office is going to know. If I don't speak up, I'm going to feel like a piece of kaka.
At that moment, a co-worker who had heard the first guy say "Muslim joke.." came up right beside him and said, "I'm Muslim, what is your joke?"
And then J. said, "I'm Muslim, too."
The Muslim co-worker, a black brother who converted five years ago, thought that J. was joking. So he started asking him a bunch of questions. "What are the five pillars?" "What's coming up in a couple of days and why is it important?"
Mash'Allah, J. answered the questions, although apparently he forgot to mention the Oneness of Allah in the pillars! Poor guy, may Allah improve his memory as he increases his iman. J.'s got the most sincere and pure heart, but my poor sweetpea has the memory of a goldfish sometimes.
So then a few people gathered around and J. talked about Islam and being Muslim. By now, everyone at the office must know. And it makes me so happy, because J. is the kind of guy that everybody goes to for advice. He's wise beyond his years, and people take his counsel with an open mind, because he's really responsible and he always helps people, without asking anything in return. And now he has a Muslim friend at work, a convert, who can be a support for him in that terrible environment.
Mash'Allah, imagine the dawah possibilities!
I'm so proud of my sweetpea. I love him so much that it seems impossible that my love for him could keep increasing... but every day he says something or does something that makes me love him even more. Alhamdilullah, I have been blessed to have such a good man as my partner. May Allah s.w.t. always increase our love for each other and our iman. Amin.
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
The Importance of Affection and Kindness in Marriage
Salam Aleykam,
I'm going to talk about the importance of affection between spouses. Please abstain from yelling about cooties, and read until the end.
When I think about this now, I really wish that I had tried harder with my father. I wish that I could hug him now and tell him how much I love him, despite everything that he has done to me. There’s something about being bipolar that makes people really needy for love, but it also makes people very difficult to love at times. That results in great loneliness for me, and an inability to reach out to others for fear of being rejected. During episodes, I’ll say and do the stupidest things, and it’s hard for people to relax and be comfortable with me for awhile afterwards. People get scared of my moods, just as I would be scared of my father’s- I never knew when the glint in his eye was one of joy or of rage.
I would always try to be affectionate with my mother, but she wasn’t a very warm person. I have one memory that still hurts a lot when I think about it. I was about seven, and I was trying to hug her, and she rolled her eyes and sighed in a way like it was asking too much of her, then gave me a weak hug. She loved us all very much, but she just didn’t know how to show it. My brothers didn’t know how to be affectionate either. Alhamdilullah, we had so many cats at home that there was always a warm body for me to squeeze when I was lonely, but human touch still would have been appreciated.
Because of the lack of affection displayed in my family, as the years went by, it became harder and harder for me to be affectionate with other people, which led to issues with emotional intimacy as well. It got to the point that I couldn’t even stand to sit close by other people. It’s tied in with my fear of germs, which is also inherited from my father. Closeness=potential betrayal, hurt, infection, disease, and ultimately, regret.
But J. is very affectionate, Alhamdilullah. I really didn’t know how to respond to it at first. I couldn’t understand how a guy could be so sweet and loving, while expecting nothing of me in return. You know what I mean? He wasn’t trying to get anything from me, he was just showing me kindness, the first real kindness that I’d ever known. The first time he hugged me, the warmth I felt was out of this world. The closest thing that resembles it is that feeling I get when praying in the mosque, shoulder to shoulder with my beloved sisters, directing our thoughts and prayers towards Allah s.w.t. It’s like the most beautiful light just washes over me, until I am bathed in it, and I emerge clean, my heart opened, spilling over with love. I feel restored, replenished, and pure. And I feel so much love.
As with every other area of our lives, we should look to the character of Muhammed s.a.w. for guidance on how to treat our spouses and family. The Prophet s.a.w. was very affectionate with his wives and children, he played sports with Aisha r.a. and always treated her with the utmost kindness, and he appreciated her feistiness, instead of seeing it as an affront to his masculinity, as many men today would see it.
"From among the believers are those who have the kindest disposition and are the kindest to their families- such are those who show the most perfect faith. The best among them are those who are kindest to their wives." [Bukhari and Muslim]
I would always try to be affectionate with my mother, but she wasn’t a very warm person. I have one memory that still hurts a lot when I think about it. I was about seven, and I was trying to hug her, and she rolled her eyes and sighed in a way like it was asking too much of her, then gave me a weak hug. She loved us all very much, but she just didn’t know how to show it. My brothers didn’t know how to be affectionate either. Alhamdilullah, we had so many cats at home that there was always a warm body for me to squeeze when I was lonely, but human touch still would have been appreciated.
Because of the lack of affection displayed in my family, as the years went by, it became harder and harder for me to be affectionate with other people, which led to issues with emotional intimacy as well. It got to the point that I couldn’t even stand to sit close by other people. It’s tied in with my fear of germs, which is also inherited from my father. Closeness=potential betrayal, hurt, infection, disease, and ultimately, regret.
But J. is very affectionate, Alhamdilullah. I really didn’t know how to respond to it at first. I couldn’t understand how a guy could be so sweet and loving, while expecting nothing of me in return. You know what I mean? He wasn’t trying to get anything from me, he was just showing me kindness, the first real kindness that I’d ever known. The first time he hugged me, the warmth I felt was out of this world. The closest thing that resembles it is that feeling I get when praying in the mosque, shoulder to shoulder with my beloved sisters, directing our thoughts and prayers towards Allah s.w.t. It’s like the most beautiful light just washes over me, until I am bathed in it, and I emerge clean, my heart opened, spilling over with love. I feel restored, replenished, and pure. And I feel so much love.
As with every other area of our lives, we should look to the character of Muhammed s.a.w. for guidance on how to treat our spouses and family. The Prophet s.a.w. was very affectionate with his wives and children, he played sports with Aisha r.a. and always treated her with the utmost kindness, and he appreciated her feistiness, instead of seeing it as an affront to his masculinity, as many men today would see it.
"From among the believers are those who have the kindest disposition and are the kindest to their families- such are those who show the most perfect faith. The best among them are those who are kindest to their wives." [Bukhari and Muslim]
Kindness in marriage is paramount to the success of the relationship. There are days when J. and I are both exhausted and prone to irritability, and we might snap at each other. If it turns into an argument, it’s so painful for both of us to be mad at each other that we always work at settling it as soon as possible. We make a point never to go to bed angry, even if it means staying up late during the week.
If I’m feeling emotional, I can get easily offended by J’s playful teasing, even though I know he doesn’t mean it to hurt me. And sometimes when he apologizes I still feel hurt, but he’ll keep making funny faces and calling me by the cute nicknames we have for each other until my heart softens. Something that I have to work on as a wife and as a human being, is learning not to be so stubborn. Before I learned from J’s example, if someone hurt me very badly I would do my best to hurt them ten times more than they had hurt me. I would go way, way overboard with my retaliation, and I wouldn’t feel satisfied until I had the other person in tears. Estagfirillah, I really used to hurt a lot of people that way. From J’s example, I’ve really, really matured when it comes to how I respond to adversity, and I’ve learned to be much more gentle in speech.
Cuddling in marriage is very important. You know that babies who aren’t held often enough can get really sick and even die. It’s called failure to thrive. Well, think of your spouses as big babies who are capable of dressing themselves and holding jobs. but still need lots of hugs and kisses to able to thrive.
“Among his signs is the fact that He has created spouses for you from among yourselves, so that you may find tranquillity with them; and he has put love and mercy between you. In that are signs for people who reflect.” Qur’an 30:21.
That’s one of my favorite verses in the whole Qur’an. Love and affection are from Allah s.w.t, so we should strive to be loving and affectionate with our spouses, and with our families. Every act of kindness we do towards our spouses is counted as a good deed, just as everything a Muslim does for the sake of Allah is counted as a good deed. This is how much Allah loves us- we give Bismillah before we pray, before we eat, before we do any other daily activity, and these simple things are counted as good deeds. So it makes perfect sense that acting with kindness towards our spouses will make Allah very happy with us.
I love to kiss my husband all over his face, and with each kiss, I say, a blessing for you here, a blessing for you there, another blessing over here... we giggle about it, and it’s good to be silly with your partners sometimes. As verse 30:21 of the Qur’an says, we are to find tranquillity with our spouses, they are a perfect release for all of the love that we have inside of ourselves.
If I’m feeling emotional, I can get easily offended by J’s playful teasing, even though I know he doesn’t mean it to hurt me. And sometimes when he apologizes I still feel hurt, but he’ll keep making funny faces and calling me by the cute nicknames we have for each other until my heart softens. Something that I have to work on as a wife and as a human being, is learning not to be so stubborn. Before I learned from J’s example, if someone hurt me very badly I would do my best to hurt them ten times more than they had hurt me. I would go way, way overboard with my retaliation, and I wouldn’t feel satisfied until I had the other person in tears. Estagfirillah, I really used to hurt a lot of people that way. From J’s example, I’ve really, really matured when it comes to how I respond to adversity, and I’ve learned to be much more gentle in speech.
Cuddling in marriage is very important. You know that babies who aren’t held often enough can get really sick and even die. It’s called failure to thrive. Well, think of your spouses as big babies who are capable of dressing themselves and holding jobs. but still need lots of hugs and kisses to able to thrive.
“Among his signs is the fact that He has created spouses for you from among yourselves, so that you may find tranquillity with them; and he has put love and mercy between you. In that are signs for people who reflect.” Qur’an 30:21.
That’s one of my favorite verses in the whole Qur’an. Love and affection are from Allah s.w.t, so we should strive to be loving and affectionate with our spouses, and with our families. Every act of kindness we do towards our spouses is counted as a good deed, just as everything a Muslim does for the sake of Allah is counted as a good deed. This is how much Allah loves us- we give Bismillah before we pray, before we eat, before we do any other daily activity, and these simple things are counted as good deeds. So it makes perfect sense that acting with kindness towards our spouses will make Allah very happy with us.
I love to kiss my husband all over his face, and with each kiss, I say, a blessing for you here, a blessing for you there, another blessing over here... we giggle about it, and it’s good to be silly with your partners sometimes. As verse 30:21 of the Qur’an says, we are to find tranquillity with our spouses, they are a perfect release for all of the love that we have inside of ourselves.
Hugging and kissing and cuddling is not just for foreplay preceding marital relations. It helps sustain emotional intimacy through out the day, and even a squeeze here and there releases oxytocin, the cuddling hormone, which helps sustain intimate bonds long after the body has built up a tolerance to the feel-good endorphins we have during the initial burst of love. This is why cuddling is very important in marriage- like sex, good cuddles strengthen the marital bond and prevent us from seeking intimacy in haram ways. J. describes cuddling as the part of the day when our souls get to meet and talk to each other, after being away from each other all day. Isn’t that beautiful?
In conclusion, for those of you who have read this far, go give someone you love a nice, big hug. It can be a parent, a sibling, a spouse, or a pet. Be kind to your loved ones, so Allah s.w.t. will be kind to you.
In conclusion, for those of you who have read this far, go give someone you love a nice, big hug. It can be a parent, a sibling, a spouse, or a pet. Be kind to your loved ones, so Allah s.w.t. will be kind to you.
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Dr.Syed: Or, how I learned to stop worrying and love the idea of marriage
Salam Aleykam my lovelies,
I’m going to tell you now of how I came to be married, despite very hostile views on marriage. It’s a bit of an unorthodox journey, and inshAllah the marriage process will be much easier for those who are reading, but Allah knows best, and everything happens for a reason. It’s also important for me to write this, so potential readers will have some background information on me and my life, as I will refer back to some of the things I write here in future posts, inshAllah.
The marriage of J-Z, a Fairy Tale
Once upon a time, in a faraway land of ice and snow, there lived a beautiful young girl named Zelephant. Zelephant's real name started with a Z, and like an elephant, she never forgot anything, which people found alternately impressive and also, a little bit creepy. Like when she would catch people in lies because she remembered them telling her three different versions of why they cancelled their plans with her that day that she was really lonely. Anyway, Zelephant had had some really bad experiences at home with her family, because they practiced a strange version of Islam, one that dictated men should beat their wives, and then marry more wives, and also sleep with lots of non-Muslim women, because men who didn't sleep around were totally gay. Estagfirillah. The readers of this fairy tale should all make dua that Zelephant's family be guided to the true beauty of Islam, and stop getting their lessons on Islam from Fox News.
Since she had had such terrible experiences with the men in her family, Zelephant actually really hated men. When her father pulled her out of school because he didn't trust her to go to university alone, the government stopped giving him money for her, since she was no longer considered a dependent. So, as she was no longer useful to him, Zelephant's father began arranging a marriage for her, with a wealthy doctor, many years her senior, whom she had never met. Zelephant had put up with a lifetime of beatings, death threats, and being told that women are the source of all evil and even the best Muslim woman will be a whore if given the chance, Estagfirillah, but she would not put up with a forced marriage.
I’m going to tell you now of how I came to be married, despite very hostile views on marriage. It’s a bit of an unorthodox journey, and inshAllah the marriage process will be much easier for those who are reading, but Allah knows best, and everything happens for a reason. It’s also important for me to write this, so potential readers will have some background information on me and my life, as I will refer back to some of the things I write here in future posts, inshAllah.
The marriage of J-Z, a Fairy Tale
Once upon a time, in a faraway land of ice and snow, there lived a beautiful young girl named Zelephant. Zelephant's real name started with a Z, and like an elephant, she never forgot anything, which people found alternately impressive and also, a little bit creepy. Like when she would catch people in lies because she remembered them telling her three different versions of why they cancelled their plans with her that day that she was really lonely. Anyway, Zelephant had had some really bad experiences at home with her family, because they practiced a strange version of Islam, one that dictated men should beat their wives, and then marry more wives, and also sleep with lots of non-Muslim women, because men who didn't sleep around were totally gay. Estagfirillah. The readers of this fairy tale should all make dua that Zelephant's family be guided to the true beauty of Islam, and stop getting their lessons on Islam from Fox News.
Since she had had such terrible experiences with the men in her family, Zelephant actually really hated men. When her father pulled her out of school because he didn't trust her to go to university alone, the government stopped giving him money for her, since she was no longer considered a dependent. So, as she was no longer useful to him, Zelephant's father began arranging a marriage for her, with a wealthy doctor, many years her senior, whom she had never met. Zelephant had put up with a lifetime of beatings, death threats, and being told that women are the source of all evil and even the best Muslim woman will be a whore if given the chance, Estagfirillah, but she would not put up with a forced marriage.
Zelephant put up with the other stuff because she loved her family so much, but the idea of getting married against her will was too much for her. Alhamdilullah, from a very early age, Zelephant was blessed with the ability to know when things don't make sense, and a hunger for knowledge. So, many years earlier, when she had thought that Islam was bad because her father was bad, and it couldn't possibly be the right religion because God couldn't possibly hate women, Allah guided her to the true teachings of Islam, and she realized that her father was in great error.
Now, Zelephant knew that Muslim women are allowed to choose their own husbands, so long as the man is pious and a good match. She also knew that many men had approached her father about marriage to her, but she had never met any of these men. As her father liked to say, while justifying his refusal to let her go to the mosque for sisters halaqas, "My Daughter is not to be seen by those men! She is not for sale, except by the right buyer." Basically, Zelephant's dad was really racist, and only wanted her to marry a man with fair skin, lots of money, and a penchant for beating women, as he thought this the best way to keep his strong-willed daughter in check.
Yet, word had obviously spread of Zelephant's awesomeness, and many a man had approached her father. Her father was finally pleased with one of them, for the man was rich, fair skinned, religious, and came from the proper region and bloodline. He was also going to give 10,000 euros for the fair maiden's hand, a vast sum of money at that time. Zelephant knew that the bride is supposed to receive the dowry to spend on whatever she pleases, and as a sort of safety net in case the marriage fails. But Zelephant's father was going to take the money to pay off some of his debts instead, although he said it was for "safe-keeping".
And so, fearing marriage to a man her demanding, unIslamic, and abusive father actually approved of, who had agreed to marry her after only having seen her photo, the fair maiden left home. Ran away, like an abused puppy, towards a frightening and uncertain future. It was the hardest thing she ever had to do in her life, but she feared that a forced marriage would result in her suicide, so much did she fear and hate the idea of having sexual relations with a man. For, while her father had encouraged her brothers to engage in pre-marital sex, given them pornography as children so they wouldn't be gay, and cheated on Zelephant's mother with boastful pride, (which he really liked to talk about when guests were over, for some strange reason), he was also known to mention once or twenty times a day that women are all whores , and women who even talk to men asides from their husbands, fathers, and brothers, should be killed. Zelephant knew she wasn't a whore, since she had never so much as held hands with a man, and actually found them to be very disgusting creatures, and so she dreaded the idea of ever marrying one.
But Allah s.w.t. did not want Zelephant to be single, so he sent two wonderful men into her life. One of them was Dr.Syed, the man who was instrumental in keeping her on the straight path, may Allah bless him in this life and the next, and the other one was the handsome, sweet, kind, and unbelievably wonderful man who would eventually become Zelephant's husband.
Now, since Zelephant had experienced so much violence and craziness at home, after she left home, she kind of went crazy herself. Her father had always told her that girls who don't obey their fathers are going to hell forever and ever, so Zelephant stopped praying for awhile after she left home, because she didn't think there was use to it if she was going to hell forever. Sadly, Zelephant was in so much pain that she started drinking alcohol instead of turning to Allah. She went even more crazy, stopped sleeping completely because of nightmares, and ended up in the hospital a couple of times after she started seeing really spooky things when she was awake. (That happens when you don’t sleep for a few days). Eventually, she was referred to a psychiatrist by the name of Dr.Syed.
Dr.Syed was, for lack of a better term, totally for the win. He told Zelephant that she was not going to hell for leaving home, because what her father had been doing and saying was really haram and against Islam, and it was unsafe for her to be in that environment and completely against Islam to marry someone against her will. Dr.Syed diagnosed Zelephant with bipolar disorder, which is a really crappy illness where the person is really happy sometimes, and really angry and sad some of the time, and then sometimes they get to be normal and stable. But lots of cool and influential people in history have had bipolar, because when it’s not making you wig out and do and say really stupid things, it actually makes you more cool than most people. Basically, Allah s.w.t. has conferred certain advantages to this terrible illness, and there’s even books written by doctors on how bipolars are totally creative and awesome.
Dr.Syed also diagnosed Zelephant with PTSD, a horrible disorder that sadly, has no advantages. People get PTSD when they’ve seen and experienced really bad traumas and don’t know how to deal with them, so they’re really scared of everything and often end up with substance abuse problems. Very, very, sad.
Dr.Syed told Zelephant that, judging by what she had told him about her father and the wacky things he had done, he probably also suffered from bipolar disorder. As Zelephant learned more about the illness, she saw how many of the symptoms her father had, and she was able to stop hating him, and even started to love and feel sorry for him, knowing how destructive the disease is, and how very, very painful it can be. When researching bipolar medication, she came across one that had been prescribed to her father, but that he had never taken. (He always believed that his family was trying to make him feel crazy, which is why he would make his daughter and wife taste his food before he did, since he thought people were trying to poison him).
Zelephant saw Dr.Syed for a few years, during which time he treated her for her craziness, and helped her heal quite a bit. He was very knowledgable in Islam, and his knowledge helped her make sense of her experiences, why bad things seemed to keep happening to her, and why she shouldn’t feel the terrible guilt she felt over leaving her family.
He also spoke to her about the importance of marriage in Islam. As Zelephant had had such terrible experiences with the men in her family, the idea of marriage remained terrifying. Although she saw that Dr.Syed was a pious, kind, sweet man, who spoke very lovingly of his wife and daughters, she doubted that she would be lucky enough to have such a marriage.
But something very strange happened to Zelephant then. She fell in love, with J, a man that she had actually known for years as a friend. One day, much to her astonishment, she realized that she was attracted to him. This actually made her feel really embarrassed, since she could only accept men as being decent when sex was removed from the “male question”. Alas, his handsomeness, kindness, and sweetness became so evident to her one day, that she saw him as a potential partner.
She recognized his goodness when she found out that he was still a virgin. Although he had dated a few girls in the past, he had never had sex with any of them. This truly astounded Zelephant, because this man was so handsome that he could have had whomever he wanted, and she had always thought that men were driven by their wangs, and not by piety. When she found out that he didn’t think it was right to have sex before marriage, and he was waiting for the right woman, she knew then that it was meant to be. Something that had bothered Zelephant very much about the idea of being with a man was the thought that the man may have already been with countless women. As she had always believed that a woman’s virginity is a sacred thing, she never would have given it to a man who did not have the decency to wait until marriage.
The problem was that he was only just beginning to learn about Islam. Zelephant knew that a Muslim woman could only marry a Muslim man, and this caused her much distress. She couldn’t understand why Allah s.w.t. would finally put love and desire in her heart, for such a wonderful man, only for the relationship to be forbidden. So it caused a lot of stress for her. But, since he was the only man she had been attracted to, she didn’t want to give up, for she believed that Allah would not put such a love in her heart if it was not meant to be. Allah knows better than we do, and everything happens when Allah wills it.
Zelephant gave him lots of dawah, and he met other Muslims who impressed him with their love for Allah and their unbreakable belief in Islam. Allah s.w.t. is most merciful, and the handsome man, who had lived his life according to Muslim morals and values even when he knew nothing of Islam, was guided to Islam through the purity of his heart and soul, and Allah’s mercy.
Zelephant went with him to the mosque, where he took his shahada. Several minutes after taking his shahada, Zelephant and J. were married. After they left the mosque, as they waited for the bus, J. started talking about how he was going to convert the females in his family first. MashAllah, he already wanted to give dawah minutes after becoming Muslim! Zelephant was very impressed by this, and J. then told her that he had already been telling his friends about Islam for months, long before he took the shahada.
And thus began the greatest happiness that either of them have ever known. J’s eagerness to learn everything possible about Islam in as little time as possible astounded Zelephant so much that she also started reading as much about Islam as possible. MashAllah, everything that J. learns about Islam, he tells to other people. One of his sisters is very close to accepting Islam, Alhamdilullah.
Allah placed in the happy couple a beautiful love, and their relationship is based completely on love- love for Allah, love for Islam, love for the world, and of course, love for each other. Love love love love love. Zelephant is indescribably grateful to Allah for sending her such a wonderful man, and J is indescribably grateful to Allah for guiding him to Islam via the love of Zelephant. SubhanAllah.
And they all lived happily ever after. InshAllah.
Now, Zelephant knew that Muslim women are allowed to choose their own husbands, so long as the man is pious and a good match. She also knew that many men had approached her father about marriage to her, but she had never met any of these men. As her father liked to say, while justifying his refusal to let her go to the mosque for sisters halaqas, "My Daughter is not to be seen by those men! She is not for sale, except by the right buyer." Basically, Zelephant's dad was really racist, and only wanted her to marry a man with fair skin, lots of money, and a penchant for beating women, as he thought this the best way to keep his strong-willed daughter in check.
Yet, word had obviously spread of Zelephant's awesomeness, and many a man had approached her father. Her father was finally pleased with one of them, for the man was rich, fair skinned, religious, and came from the proper region and bloodline. He was also going to give 10,000 euros for the fair maiden's hand, a vast sum of money at that time. Zelephant knew that the bride is supposed to receive the dowry to spend on whatever she pleases, and as a sort of safety net in case the marriage fails. But Zelephant's father was going to take the money to pay off some of his debts instead, although he said it was for "safe-keeping".
And so, fearing marriage to a man her demanding, unIslamic, and abusive father actually approved of, who had agreed to marry her after only having seen her photo, the fair maiden left home. Ran away, like an abused puppy, towards a frightening and uncertain future. It was the hardest thing she ever had to do in her life, but she feared that a forced marriage would result in her suicide, so much did she fear and hate the idea of having sexual relations with a man. For, while her father had encouraged her brothers to engage in pre-marital sex, given them pornography as children so they wouldn't be gay, and cheated on Zelephant's mother with boastful pride, (which he really liked to talk about when guests were over, for some strange reason), he was also known to mention once or twenty times a day that women are all whores , and women who even talk to men asides from their husbands, fathers, and brothers, should be killed. Zelephant knew she wasn't a whore, since she had never so much as held hands with a man, and actually found them to be very disgusting creatures, and so she dreaded the idea of ever marrying one.
But Allah s.w.t. did not want Zelephant to be single, so he sent two wonderful men into her life. One of them was Dr.Syed, the man who was instrumental in keeping her on the straight path, may Allah bless him in this life and the next, and the other one was the handsome, sweet, kind, and unbelievably wonderful man who would eventually become Zelephant's husband.
Now, since Zelephant had experienced so much violence and craziness at home, after she left home, she kind of went crazy herself. Her father had always told her that girls who don't obey their fathers are going to hell forever and ever, so Zelephant stopped praying for awhile after she left home, because she didn't think there was use to it if she was going to hell forever. Sadly, Zelephant was in so much pain that she started drinking alcohol instead of turning to Allah. She went even more crazy, stopped sleeping completely because of nightmares, and ended up in the hospital a couple of times after she started seeing really spooky things when she was awake. (That happens when you don’t sleep for a few days). Eventually, she was referred to a psychiatrist by the name of Dr.Syed.
Dr.Syed was, for lack of a better term, totally for the win. He told Zelephant that she was not going to hell for leaving home, because what her father had been doing and saying was really haram and against Islam, and it was unsafe for her to be in that environment and completely against Islam to marry someone against her will. Dr.Syed diagnosed Zelephant with bipolar disorder, which is a really crappy illness where the person is really happy sometimes, and really angry and sad some of the time, and then sometimes they get to be normal and stable. But lots of cool and influential people in history have had bipolar, because when it’s not making you wig out and do and say really stupid things, it actually makes you more cool than most people. Basically, Allah s.w.t. has conferred certain advantages to this terrible illness, and there’s even books written by doctors on how bipolars are totally creative and awesome.
Dr.Syed also diagnosed Zelephant with PTSD, a horrible disorder that sadly, has no advantages. People get PTSD when they’ve seen and experienced really bad traumas and don’t know how to deal with them, so they’re really scared of everything and often end up with substance abuse problems. Very, very, sad.
Dr.Syed told Zelephant that, judging by what she had told him about her father and the wacky things he had done, he probably also suffered from bipolar disorder. As Zelephant learned more about the illness, she saw how many of the symptoms her father had, and she was able to stop hating him, and even started to love and feel sorry for him, knowing how destructive the disease is, and how very, very painful it can be. When researching bipolar medication, she came across one that had been prescribed to her father, but that he had never taken. (He always believed that his family was trying to make him feel crazy, which is why he would make his daughter and wife taste his food before he did, since he thought people were trying to poison him).
Zelephant saw Dr.Syed for a few years, during which time he treated her for her craziness, and helped her heal quite a bit. He was very knowledgable in Islam, and his knowledge helped her make sense of her experiences, why bad things seemed to keep happening to her, and why she shouldn’t feel the terrible guilt she felt over leaving her family.
He also spoke to her about the importance of marriage in Islam. As Zelephant had had such terrible experiences with the men in her family, the idea of marriage remained terrifying. Although she saw that Dr.Syed was a pious, kind, sweet man, who spoke very lovingly of his wife and daughters, she doubted that she would be lucky enough to have such a marriage.
But something very strange happened to Zelephant then. She fell in love, with J, a man that she had actually known for years as a friend. One day, much to her astonishment, she realized that she was attracted to him. This actually made her feel really embarrassed, since she could only accept men as being decent when sex was removed from the “male question”. Alas, his handsomeness, kindness, and sweetness became so evident to her one day, that she saw him as a potential partner.
She recognized his goodness when she found out that he was still a virgin. Although he had dated a few girls in the past, he had never had sex with any of them. This truly astounded Zelephant, because this man was so handsome that he could have had whomever he wanted, and she had always thought that men were driven by their wangs, and not by piety. When she found out that he didn’t think it was right to have sex before marriage, and he was waiting for the right woman, she knew then that it was meant to be. Something that had bothered Zelephant very much about the idea of being with a man was the thought that the man may have already been with countless women. As she had always believed that a woman’s virginity is a sacred thing, she never would have given it to a man who did not have the decency to wait until marriage.
The problem was that he was only just beginning to learn about Islam. Zelephant knew that a Muslim woman could only marry a Muslim man, and this caused her much distress. She couldn’t understand why Allah s.w.t. would finally put love and desire in her heart, for such a wonderful man, only for the relationship to be forbidden. So it caused a lot of stress for her. But, since he was the only man she had been attracted to, she didn’t want to give up, for she believed that Allah would not put such a love in her heart if it was not meant to be. Allah knows better than we do, and everything happens when Allah wills it.
Zelephant gave him lots of dawah, and he met other Muslims who impressed him with their love for Allah and their unbreakable belief in Islam. Allah s.w.t. is most merciful, and the handsome man, who had lived his life according to Muslim morals and values even when he knew nothing of Islam, was guided to Islam through the purity of his heart and soul, and Allah’s mercy.
Zelephant went with him to the mosque, where he took his shahada. Several minutes after taking his shahada, Zelephant and J. were married. After they left the mosque, as they waited for the bus, J. started talking about how he was going to convert the females in his family first. MashAllah, he already wanted to give dawah minutes after becoming Muslim! Zelephant was very impressed by this, and J. then told her that he had already been telling his friends about Islam for months, long before he took the shahada.
And thus began the greatest happiness that either of them have ever known. J’s eagerness to learn everything possible about Islam in as little time as possible astounded Zelephant so much that she also started reading as much about Islam as possible. MashAllah, everything that J. learns about Islam, he tells to other people. One of his sisters is very close to accepting Islam, Alhamdilullah.
Allah placed in the happy couple a beautiful love, and their relationship is based completely on love- love for Allah, love for Islam, love for the world, and of course, love for each other. Love love love love love. Zelephant is indescribably grateful to Allah for sending her such a wonderful man, and J is indescribably grateful to Allah for guiding him to Islam via the love of Zelephant. SubhanAllah.
And they all lived happily ever after. InshAllah.
Monday, August 17, 2009
Introduction
As-Salam Aleykam wa rahma tullah wa bara katu,
Al-Fatihah
In the Name of God,
The Merciful, The Compassionate-
The praise belongs to God
Lord of the worlds,
The Merciful, The Compassionate,
One who is sovereign of the Day of Judgement.
You alone we worship,
and to You alone we pray for help.
Guide us to the straight path,
the path of those to whom
You have been gracious,
not the ones against whom You are angry,
nor the ones who go astray.
My dear sisters and brothers,
I decided to start this blog at the recommendation of a few people who noted my penchant for using public internet forums as my own personal diary. I have a tendency to interject personal experiences in my attempts to theorize the world, and my place in it, and I do like to talk about myself and my life a lot. So, I did what any self-reflective narcissist would do- I started my own blog, where I am free to gush about the cuteness of cats and how much I love lots of mayonnaise on my sandwiches, without the fear of upsetting forum decorum with my rants about why Brazil only won the 2002 World Cup because they're a bunch of no good cheats. (Turkey should have won, would have won, if we hadn't had to play stupid Brazil twice. Stupid Brazil.)
Those are all important things, but the main purpose of this blog is to (hopefully) inform and educate my beloved ummah on marriage in Islam; more specifically, the ideal Muslim marriage, and the rights and responsibilities of the wife and of the husband. Sadly, cultural aberrations have effected the marriage process so much that Muslim youth dread the idea of marriage as much as many non-Muslim youth fear the idea of zombies and other terrifying creatures, like werewolves and Stephen Harper. Really, out of all of those spooky things, conservative governments are the only ones we should worry about.
As I'm want to do with any issue, I will go off into many tangents, such that you'll often wonder how I managed to turn a post reminding Muslims that the caste system does not exist in Islam, into a furious rant about how the dryers are always broken in the laundry room of the crappy apartment building I live in. Be patient with me, as I will eventually get to the point.
InshAllah you will benefit from this blog, and understand that marriage is half of our deen, and a happy marriage is the foundation of a happy life. Speaking as a happily, nay, ecstatically married lady, I can tell you that I wouldn't trade my amazing husband and wonderful marriage for all the gold in China. Alhamdilullah, I've been blessed, and I pray that Allah blesses you all with awesomely pious spouses. Amin.
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