Eastern European Muslim

I believe in matches made in heaven and soul mates. I know that somewhere there is someone for everyone who can be just the perfect companion for them who can understand and share their weirdness - as everyone is weird in a certain way - but for "the one" these things are perfectly normal. It's a connection that involves heart, soul and body, it's as if there were millions of microscopic strings pulling them towards each other constantly.  I also know that it's not guaranteed for anyone to meet their type of weirdo in their 20s or if they do they are not guaranteed to recognise each other and be at the point of their lives that they can start their journey together. So yes, it does happen that soul mates don't meet or don't recognise each other until they are in their 40s or even later. If it's so, if all the people waited for their soul mates to arrive finally from the desert or from the depths of country life, this world would be underpopulated with

I am a revert myself, so some of the statements implicitly portraying me as an ambassador of the religion may seem a bit schizophrenic, but I will explain.  I became Muslim in my early twenties after a childhood and teenage years that left a lot of blank spaces in my book of "how to live". So my personality was shaped largely by it as in many areas Islam was the first guidance I found after wandering around blindly. It was the light in the darkness, the meaning after the confusion, the roadmap towards a meaningful life. I studied it day and night, it became my primary interest and I implemented its teachings in my inner and outer actions. We lived in an ideal small community. An Eastern European University town where many students from Muslim majority countries have chosen Islam after being confronted by the life without it, and discovering the differences between the cultural customs of their countries and the religion itself, and open minded reverts, many of them uni studen

3 days They asked me 3 days to reconsider No compulsion, they said Then mentioned my children While they know Or they don't? Yes, they must be perfectly aware  That there isn't stronger compulsion for a mother Than her children So 3 more days to reconsider  But I'm done with thinking And explaining And reasoning      And mentioning my rights Everything is ticked Yet the pressure did not end It became stronger instead And got trickier and stickier  Using my own dreams Against my own willpower Painting beautiful pictures in front of my eyes  Of a life I once dreamed of Mentioning an ideal situation I spent a decade Pretending to be living in Hiding from everyone and from myself the fact  That I was not  3 days  I'm fasting  Not eating  Not drinking  Not speaking  Not reasoning  Just being  I let this river take me  I surrender  To the Lord of this river  And of every being  As I know He won't let my heart bleed  And will take me  Where I really belong   

All my life I was afraid of dependency. I wanted to avoid it at any cost. Most probably I felt that way because I had seen my mother collapse when my father left her who she depended on emotionally, economically, existentially. I wanted to be myself, determining my personality without the influence of anyone else. I knew you need to be able to ice skate alone so you can dance with someone else who can ice skate alone. I just didn't know how to do that. And I was even less able to spot the red flags and the signs that would tell me that I was about to be captured. I always thought that my wish to travel was a dependency. I felt that if I go somewhere and I feel happy, confident, determined, then it must be an outer factor to make me that way, because when I'm "at home", I become again irritated, moody, depressed, indecisive and passive. I thought that's what I am as that's how I have always known myself. Years passed and I have discovered more and more places,

The past months I have been participating in many groups about the topic of narcissism and I can only talk about positive experiences.  These groups never aimed to substitute knowledge or therapy, but they provide an excellent support. I don't mean I talk to random strangers and cry my problems out, but if I read about events that are similar to those I have gone through, if I discover that the actions of others towards me are typical examples among the characteristics of a certain disorder, it helps me understand my feelings. Reading it shows me that my experiences are real, my perceptions are valid. It is already a step away from the effects of gaslighting. Empathy warms my soul after long years of isolation. I did have people around, even close friends, but I have never allowed them to see certain parts of my life - in fact I have never allowed that to myself either. I couldn't face that walking on eggshells had become my actual way of walking. Now I'm discovering step b

The day you left I understood This life is not What we hoped for This world is now  An empty place  It's so hard to  Be in peace  I can never  Talk to you  I can never  Share with you  All the heartbreak  And the joy  All the things I  Got to know  I want to tell you  Since you left Everything has changed  No way back  Illusions faded  And new rays of  Hope are shining  Through the mess  I will miss our  Endless talks  Your special ways of  Making jokes  Deep, understanding,  Caring heart and  Your bright soul that  Lived for God