My Reconciliation, Fear and Courage

My journey of reconciling my faith, sexuality and culture at the best of times has been beautiful in its diversity and at the worst, well, considering suicide. Wow, what an awfully blunt way to begin a blog post. It’s the truth though. For a long time I found myself waking up with one thought and going to sleep with the same thought. This question would often plague me into the small hours of the morning rendering me unable to sleep properly. Kind of like a constant tape playing in my mind so that no matter what I was doing, no matter how far removed the activity was from religion, culture and sexuality, I still found the tape playing in the back of my mind incessantly. What was the question? Well, it was this: ‘How on earth am I going to make my sexuality work with my religion and culture?’

It wasn’t until years after that a friend suggested to me that she thought that I might have been depressed. Now that was something quite difficult to hear at first. After finally getting to grips and indeed  digesting what she had said I came to the realisation that actually yes I was depressed and that I also, some days, even now, I find myself having moments of wondering what my future will look like and the barriers I will undoubtedly face.

Due to my lived experience of multiple-discrimination and being born in a country which I have many rights extended to me that I arguably would not have in many parts of the world, particularly my mother land of Pakistan, makes me not only very thankful but ferociously more adamant in my activism and my desire to do as much as a I can in the advancement of universal human rights starting with my local community and student politics. Globalising the local and localising the global is a brilliant way of phrasing this and indeed explaining what I mean. It doesn’t even start and end with universal human rights; I am always being reminded of the importance of visibility and indeed the importance of me being visible as a queer, Black, Muslim woman.

It’s late, I’m tired and I feel like I’m rambling but the point of this post is to try and articulate that no matter what you have been through or continue to go through always remember this: ‘Vulnerability is our most accurate measurement of courage.’ It is through feeling vulnerable that we are able to truly gage just how passionately we feel about something and it is that very passion that ignites and fuels the fire within us which gives us the confidence and self-belief to pursue whatever it is that we feel scared about pursuing. In some cases it all starts with feeling vulnerable. We should never be ashamed of vulnerability or even exposing our vulnerable side… ‘As we let our own lights shine we unconsciously allow others to do the same’ is another quote that sums up what I am trying to express in a neat little package of beautiful literature.

Let me leave you with a quote. It’s one that I hold very dear to me and use often especially during times of struggle whether that be on a personal or professional level.

‘Courage is not the absence of fear. Courage is the recognition that some things are more important than fear.’

Irshad Manji

Stuck in Thoughts of You

For a lesbian it’s somewhat humorous that my mind of late has become overrun by thoughts of a guy. Don’t worry. It’s not in a romantic or sexual way… Although that would most certainly have been rather strange but would fit perfectly in my idea of the fluidity of sexuality and it not being constrained by gender and sex stereotypes.

Alas, these thoughts are of my friend whom I lost a couple of months ago. for years he had suffered from depression but it had now finally taken its toll and he did the only thing he felt he could do and that was taking his own life. I have come to terms with his death. I know that he’s not here anymore but what I can’t get used to is that he helped me so much and he has no idea. He saved my life. When I was struggling with my sexuality he was one of the few people who genuinely believed that everything was going to be okay, that my mum would accept me and would not disown me. Everyone else had massive doubts but he instilled so much hope in me. He believed in me and gave me the strength, comfort and courage I needed to pull through.

In short, I owe him so much and now I can never repay him. He was a beacon of hope in my darkest times. He was the light at the end of the tunnel. In all honesty, I am stuck in the thought that I wish so badly that I could have saved him like he saved me.

Friends have suggested that I go to counselling. I am reluctant to do and not because I don’t think they can because they do but because I feel liked I’d be eating their time. I have lost a friend and that’s what I need to come to terms with which will take time. Now if the counsellors can give me something to make the time go faster then I’ll happily go!

Upon reflection and comments from friends I have begun to realise just how much I use humour and sarcasm as my coping mechanisms. People cope with the stresses and strains of life in different ways which of course isn’t a bad thing. We are all different and our perceptions of stress and how to deal with them will of course be different as well. I think now I’m wondering if my ways of dealing with situations through humour and sarcasm are not in fact dealing with them but rather providing a temporary bandage which I use to help me escape from the realities and the seriousness of some situations

I have so many questions buzzing around my head which means that I also have a prolonged tension headache. As much as I hate to admit it I think at the very least I ought to see my lecturer tomorrow and discuss extensions and maybe even possibly counselling just to put my friends at ease that I am actually okay or rather that I will be okay.

Peter… I will never forget you or what you did for me. You memory will forever live on and will be at its greatest when I am able to help others who are in the same situation as me in terms of their sexuality and religion. I dedicate my human rights activism to you.