Welcome to my blog!

This blog is an honest look at what life is like for this particular American convert to Islam. We're taught in Islam to cover our sins, to not air them, for fear of lessening the severity of sinning. In this blog, I may relate past indiscretions from time to time. This isn't to make light of them, but in the interest of educating Muslims and non-Muslims alike as to the realities of life as an American convert, I present my mistakes honestly. I make no excuses for them, nor do I claim that they were okay to make. I am not perfect, and I make no pretenses as to that. If others can learn from my past, know that Islam, and religion in general, is open for people no matter what mistakes they've made, then I will gladly air my sins when needed.

Tuesday, March 1, 2011

An open letter to my hormone and menstrual cycles.

* Disclaimer: I am going to discuss, in vague detail, the act of my uterus trying to kill me on a monthly basis. If you are male, this will probably make you feel icky inside. Therefore, if you are male, and you read this, you acknowledge that you have absolutely no right to whine that I made you feel icky inside, because you read this disclaimer, and you read the post anyway.

Dear hormone and menstrual cycles;

I realise that, me being of the female persuasion, you are a natural fact of life. I understand quite perfectly that you have your uses, that you wish my body to harbour a baby as quickly and as often as possible, so that I might contribute to the human race continuing. I know this. I get it. And hey, that's dandy, because I don't want the human race to die out any time soon.

But that being said, I hate you. I hate that you make me burst into tears for no reason. I hate that I bleed like a stuck pig every month. I hate this immense welling of despair that I feel, that I can't control, just because my body is going crazy because ZOMGWHYISN'TITIMPREGNATEDTHISMONTH?!?!?!?!?!

This, despite the fact that is has NEVER been impregnated and, God willing, never will be.

Hormone cycle, I hate that you make me hate myself. I hate that you make me feel like no one will ever love me because I'm too "me" to be loved. I hate the surges of insecurity that you give me. I hate that you make me want to crawl pitifully toward people and timidly ask, "Will you like me?" You take an already-present yet well-controlled shyness and multiply it like a schizophrenic hobo on crack cocaine while riding a rollercoaster.

Which, coincidentally, is what you do to ALL of my emotions.

I really wish you'd stop. I wish that you'd stop making my body cramp up to the point that I'm doubled over in pain.

So what I'm really trying to say, body and various shrieking-and-crying-rage-inducing cycles, is piss off.


  1. This post is so honest! I love your writing style!