Dear (NAME-WITHELD),
It is now 12:46 at night, October 20, 2006, and I’m sitting in front of my laptop, thinking about where I have gone wrong in my life. For some reason, I feel as though you are the closest thing to a brother that I’ll ever have. After watching (TV SHOW WITH HELD), I learned more about you as a person … your dedication to Islam, the love you have for your family, your intelligence, honesty, loyalty, humor …the list could go on. And I have not yet had the privilege to meet you personally.
I too am a Muslim. I grew up in a big family as well. And I was born from the United States , but my parents were born from Iraq . Similar to you in someway, but also different by many aspects. My friends and relatives see me as the funny guy who is always optimistic. But what they see is only an act. They don’t see how truly miserable I feel in side. Sadly, a day doesn’t go by where I don’t think about my past life experiences. I’m not one to cry, but lately, I cry almost everyday in the privacy of my room, thinking about how much I have done wrong in my life. At times, I contemplate suicidal thoughts just so I could end my life of it’s problems, but that is way too haraam (Arabic for wrong), and would never even do such a thing. I fear death, but hell and Allah (God) even more.
Before I continue, I want you to witness these things I have experienced during my life so that you can understand the problem I am having:
When I was in elementary school, my mom always told me to do good in school so that I can succeed in the future as a doctor and represent the family name. As a kid though, I barely socialized with other kids around my own age group because I was very quiet. From Kindergarten to third grade, I was just a normal kid without any problems. However, in the fourth grade though, my first problem began. I began to have a crush on this girl that was in my class. At the time, I knew it was wrong to have a girlfriend, and I didn’t intend to have one either. My parents already had explained to me the fundamentals of Islam. But everyday, I couldn’t stop thinking about her. I was only ten years old too! What the heck? But because I had always watched movies with kids in situations like mine, it influenced me to step up my game. One day, I decided to tell the girl I like her. I walked up to her during lunch and spoke to her about how I felt. So the girl basically rejected me in the worst possible way. She told almost everyone what I had done and told me she didn’t like me. Word got around about this very quickly. I was only a kid, so this rejection hurt. But not only did this bother me, but the fact that I went against what my parents told me about Islam. I recall being so upset at this time, not knowing what to do or who to turn to. I spoke to nobody. I thought I was going to hell. Eventually though, I began to get over it. But rest assured that I never told another girl about my feelings.
So by the time I was in fifth grade, I was still a little insecure about why that girl rejected me. I began to feel hated and disliked sometimes and so I outcasted my self from socializing with my classmates at lunchtime. This became a bad habit. In a matter of time, people began to talk insult me for no reason, cussing at me, and even saying words such as “fag”, “homo”, “gay”… I didn’t even know what that was or why they called me that. Also, as me and my brothers got into fights, my brothers would say those words (and other cuss words) too even though they didn’t mean it literally… they were just angry. Somehow, I found out what those words meant and was disgusted. These insults – they kind of stab you man. I mean, you go from being an average person to being disliked, then insulted, and hated. What kind of childhood is this. Where’d that come from? …this sort of continued until I was in the eighth grade even though I was very popular in middle school and had a lot of friends. (They still had those people who I didn’t get along with.) Yeah I got into fights, but that’s normal where I live. But back to my point…this stuff starts to get to you after a while though… You know how they say if you constantly keep telling a person they’re mental, they will begin to believe they’re mental? Or for example, if you call a person stupid… they might grow up thinking stupid. Well as I grew up, I began to think that something was wrong with me. I couldn’t understand why so many people insulted me the way the did.
More problems…
…while doing a project for History Class in eigth grade, I decided to use the internet as my source of research. It was about “African Americans,” so stupid me, thinking I’d be able to find quick results by just entering “Blacks” into my internet browser ended up with a thousand popups of pornography! I don’t want to describe to you what I had seen as that would be impolite… and even if not so, it is too embarrassing and nasty to describe. My point is, is that I got curious and started looking at bad bad pictures of naked people. But because stupid me became adjusted to thinking I was “gay,” started looking at gay pornography on the internet out of curiosity. This was around the age of puberty so it became an uncontrollable addiction, even though I knew I had the urge to stop it.
The addiction continued until eleventh grade. Here I am today, a college study studying to be a doctor like my mother wanted me to. What I have just described to you is the problem I am having. I want to get married and have children, and marry a beautiful girl. But I’m afraid, and don’t know if it’s even possible. The pressure to get married is becoming even more demanding everyday. I want to change so badly, and would do anything to correct my past so that I can make this possible.
When I look around me …my family, relatives, and people I have known – all dream of knowing what the future holds for them – but for me, it’s the most fearful thing to know. My family could outcast me and I would be the talk of the town If everyone thinks I’m homo. All the dignity and respect my family has upheld will be ruined. I would rather die than leave my family with this much misery and embarrassment.
I do not want to be a homosexual but it’s a disgusting habit that has taken over me. Just as any man or woman is attracted to the opposite sex, it’s very hard or unlikely for them to oppose those feelings. However, I’m different. I never really accepted mine in the first place. They are just here, stuck with me, and now I’m trying to change.
Hopefully as you read this letter, and understand what I’m going through. You’re advice can determine more than you can imagine. My future will be impacted by what you have to say – good or bad. You’re the only person I feel I can turn to.
Inshallah the best for you and your family,
(Name withheld)
2006-11-10
06:23:09
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