Ed note: Our dear columnists, Miss Sunshine & Shy Desi Boy, are back! Send them your sex, love & relationship questions to email@example.com. And check out our archives to read their previous columns.
Dear Miss Sunshine & Shy Desi Boy,
I am a 27 year old girl, ‘happily married’ with 2 children. I am a prominent Islamic speaker’s daughter. I wear hijab and strive to be a good Muslim. In college, I fell hard for a Non-Muslim guy. We talked for a couple of years, and eventually hooked up a couple of times. With him, when in private, I would remove my hijab. I did not lose my virginity to him (I wanted to share this with my husband); we shared a couple nights together, and those were the best nights I have ever had. To this day, I still think of those amazing nights.
I know from some Facebook stalking that he is ‘happily married’ as well and his 2 children are born within days of mine. In my college days, I felt like I was a different person. I was tired of ‘being good.’ I was sick of the expectations Islam placed on me. I wanted to rebel. I was also in love with this guy. And he was in love with me too. Love makes you do some crazy things.
However, due to religious issues and general compatibility, we broke it off. He would not convert or change his ways, and I knew I needed to settle down with a Muslim man; I have prayed for guidance since then, and am much more settled now in my religion.
There are days in which I wallow. I am ‘happily married’ in that I love my spouse. I have never told my husband nor my best friends about me & my ex hooking up: I do not want my hubby to judge me or think that I am not his first. I do not want to expose my faults, and want to keep these sins a secret, and pray that Allah forgives me. I know I am my hubby’s first.
I am writing to ask, how do I efficiently move on and not think about my ex? There are months in which I am fine, and other days in which I feel like someone has punched me in the gut, days in which I am sore, days in which I miss the way my ex used to kiss me, the way my ex and me used to laugh together. Am I normal to still think of him from time to time? I feel like a horrible person in that Allah has given me so much, and yet there are days in which I eagerly yearn for the past.I also feel horribly guilty in that if someone were to look at me, they automatically think I am a ‘good’ person, a daughter of an Islamic speaker, and a good Muslim wife & mom. But deep down inside, I have deep, dark secrets.
I need help to move on.
Miss Sunshine replies:
When I was invited to speak at a conference in Iran, I was asked by the organizers to take as much of my digital footprint down as possible. I took down my first LoveinshAllah.com column “My Infidel Husband,” postponed my next two columns, de-activated my website, and even untagged myself in podcast photos of “Good Muslim, Bad Muslim” on Facebook.
Then, two weeks before the conference, the organizers asked me to take down the New York Times article that features my story, “The Birds, the Bees, and My Hole”, from the anthology, Love Inshallah: The Secret Love Lives of American Muslim Women.
I almost wish I had made this ludicrous request to the New York Times. It could have been its own news story: “NY TIMES REMOVES ARTICLE FOR A WHILE BECAUSE COMEDIAN WHO WANTS TO GIVE SPEECH IN IRAN ASKED POLITELY.”
The conference and I broke up.
“I never shall be an old maid, because I have elected to be a Girl Bachelor. And as to regretting this choice, you know the saying of the philosopher, ‘whether you marry or not, you will regret it.’” – Neith Boyce
My friend Adam is a genius.
We’re very different, Adam and I: he is a critical and analytical thinker, I am an intuitive and emotive one. Science, reason, and skepticism trump all for him, whereas for me, all three lie under a dome of spirituality. He is more realist painting, I am more impressionist imprint. Though we often have spirited debates, we respect each other’s brains enough to maintain this friendship of nine years.
Ed. Note: Please welcome our newest writer Luca, whose column “Halal Since 22″ will be published the third Tuesday of every month.
“You’re the nicest guy ever!”
I’ve been called a lot of things by women throughout my life. Forward thinking, a saint (after a very unsaintly evening), emotionally unavailable, a complete fucking asshole, etc. I’d prefer to be called any of those things than be called nice. Nice is mild chicken wings. Nice is clothes from Old Navy. Nice is there, but otherwise totally unremarkable. I’m not “nice,” and I cringe when I think of guys who say they are.
But a few weeks ago, for the first time since my early teens, I got called a nice guy b y a woman I was interested in. To be fair, I was being quite a bit nicer to her than I am to most people.
Eds. Note: We’re featuring the stories and perspectives of Muslim youth between the ages of 18-25 this month! Tune in on Twitter to join the #MYRising conversations and check out our sister sites Muslimah Montage, Coming of Faith and Muslim ARC for more #MuslimYouthRising features.
T E N
I’m about ten-years-old, and have an unwavering love for books. I devour the Harry Potter series, The Magic Treehouse, and tons of chapter books. We can’t afford them and can’t justify purchasing them, so my mom drives my sister and me to the public library every week, where I get to use a computer and roam the bookshelves for hours.
Once I’ve read all the books for my age group, I become adventurous. I wander through the aisles and find a book out of place. It intrigues me. When I open it, there it is a magnified black-and-white image of sperm that was taken under a microscope. I shut the book immediately. Now I have the image of swimming sperm seared into my memory.
I slump back to my mother. I feel guilty, but unsure of why I feel guilty. I confess to her that I opened a scientific book and it had a photo of sperm. My mom does not flinch, but neither does she seem to know how to handle it. We walk out, my basket empty of books, my shoulders burdened with guilt, my heart heavy. I felt awkward but cannot find the source of my discomfort.
This is my sex education, for now.
Call me crazy, but girls love sex too. (Yes I know, a shocker right?)
Want to hear the crazy truth? Muslim girls love sex as much as their males counterparts. In fact, they are as hormonal as men. They desire sex, passion, hot love-making, PDA and fetishes as well. The most shocking aspect of this is that some Muslim women have slept with men before marriage.
You heard me right. Men. Not a man, but men.
It is a perplexing and a bitter pill for a Muslim man to swallow.
As a young Muslim conservative kid, I never talked to girls. Since some interpretations of Islam hold a strict basis of segregation, I never had the guts even in my college days to approach a Muslim girl and say a mere salaam. I respected the fact she covered her head and observed her chastity.
To be honest, I could not stand the fact that a Muslima had a boyfriend, let alone a one-night stand.
I’ve always had an insecurity that loomed like a dark cloud. I wanted to believe that I have huge heart, yet I felt that I always lacked in looks, personality, and my ‘”swag” factor because I never interacted with females. I was always too conscious about my flaws to notice anything good about myself because I never knew what girls looked for in a guy. Additionally, I always felt that I was a giver, and it devastated me to see Muslim women being used to satiate physical desires. At some level, it seemed to suggest that that guy, Muslim or not, was a better person that me, though he wan not honorable.
For the longest time, this notion haunted me.
He had no shame. I think that made the situation worse.
I asked him the question I have asked most brothers I am interested in.
“Have you been in any relationships outside of your previous marriage?”
He looked at me and nodded.
Sadly, it didn’t surprise me because this seemed to be the reality for a majority of brothers my friends and I encountered.
Brothers who acted a hot stakin’ mess…
Sex before marriage, babies out of wedlock and not even hiding it in the slightest.
What makes matters worse is many of them are not reprimanded.
Jummah by day and the club by night.
Posting it everywhere for folks to see.
Listen, I ain’t got the time…
Ya’ll know I keep it real all day everyday.