I’m reading the Greatness of Imperfection.

I didn’t even know I had an issue with not accepting myself and feeling unworthy. I assume that stems from the messages I learned from my mother.

I had accepted that if I didn’t get what I prayed for or worked for, it was because there was an error somewhere.

An error in my dua,

An error in the perfection of my work,

An error in myself.

Therefore, with those errors being present, I didn’t “deserve” what I asked/worked for anyway.

I was unworthy.

I’m single because I don’t deserve to be happy, and I’m not “good” enough, or worthy (for example).

So I have to relearn everything, and it’s very hard because I held these beliefs for so long.

The thing that stinks the most is that my thought process interfered greatly with my iman. I was “unworthy” of any blessings because there were errors in my character, so Allah would not bless me. This is actually a concept some Muslims believe, but it’s an unhealthy concept that I can’t practice. Yes, if we want Allah to bless us with good things, we should do our best to obey His commands. But to suggest that we are unworthy to ask of Him, due to our sins, that is a Christian theory (the reason they think they need an intercessor to hear their prayers).

And Allah knows best. I hope I get better. I am trying very hard.


Re-education: Re-re-education

I previously wrote an entry under Experiences, about a coworker explaining to me the right way to approach men, so as not to scare them away.

I often wonder if there is some kind of academic program in Gender Studies. Maybe I’ll obtain a Phd in psychology and sociology, and develop my own field of study…AHA! A quick google search reveals that there are “gender studies,” but only the study of women and feminism. Useless.

I previously thought it was a joke, this idea that men have a fear of women, or at the very least, forward, blunt, strong-willed women. Then after a particular failed attempt, I thought “maybe this shit is real.”

Besides, my coworker had successfully befriended the man she was interested in, they had great times together, and he never ever approached her sexually. She said, “I asked him, ‘if I wanted you to write letters to me everyday, would you do it?’ And he said ‘yes.'”


I caught myself, as I felt my eyes begin to roll. I had nothing to say to this mockery of a love story except-


“It’s not game. He even bought a small diary so he could start writing me letters.”


“I know it’s hard for you to believe.”

I was convinced, for a moment. Even my Muslim friends tried to tell me that the “modern” way was a surefire way to find a husband. All these rules about gender separation and mahrams was out-dated. Islamically correct nonetheless! Just ineffective.

I tried to quietly re-educate myself, and tried to wrap my head around the apparent fact that the fiqh of marriage, which I dedicated so much (too much) time to was an idealistic approach suited for a utopian world. Some of my Muslim friends suggested that I get to know some of the doctors where I work; maybe they would come around to be Muslim if they really liked me! My ovaries ain’t big enough to try that.

Weeks followed and I’m hearing more stories of Muslims getting married from modern relationships. (A few years back I would’ve said “haraam relationships.” “Wahabi,” right?) I felt like an extremist. However, since I couldn’t get past the idea that a haraam-…MODERN relationship (I can’t believe I typed that) would probably be the last thing I do, then die in a car crash, be raised up in that situation and have to answer for all that shit along with my other sins, I decided to remain on the fence with no particular direction.

Last week, my aforementioned coworker asked me to pray for her. She’s not Muslim, so naturally I asked Allah to guide her to Islam.

She later told me that her friend we’d been talking about threatened to kill her in front of her two-year-old daughter.

“Now I see why y’all don’t believe in messing with the opposite sex unless it’s for marriage, and why you have family involved.”

I was very sad that she had to go through that. She and her daughter. They’re both ok, and the man she didn’t want to “scare” away is out and about…


I never thought I knew everything, and over the last 3 years I practiced what I knew less and less. But I never thought that I never knew NOTHING. How would I know anything about anything when I never been anywhere or did anything? I’ve encountered some shitty people and been called a nigger; I thought I was set for life!

I developed opinions through 1 or 2 time experiences, and most of them were negative. Ok ALL of them were negative! From them, I decided to exclude myself from any further activities that may result in the same experience. That means everything and everyone was in categories, and once you were in one of my bad categories, your ass was STUCK.

My mom told me to stop looking at things as “good” or “bad.” I had to be in a category too. Which one do you think I was in? Yeah…

Partially taking my mom’s advice, I decided to make a grey area. I wasn’t good anymore (I once thought I was, but I wasn’t…really), I was bad, but with good qualities. I could live with that, and I did- for a little while.

It all went wrong somewhere. All my “re-education” entries will chronicle this ridiculous shit.