None of my friends had curfews, and none of them seemed to have concerned parents, either.
I find that I often lack confidence in daily situations.
It was my mother who recognized me and my pain by looking into the dimmed light of my eyes.
Being married for six months is hardly a long time, but we were able to discover what worked for us through constant communication.
I often dream of how much easier everything would be, if Islam was part of the culture.
It wasn’t long before our relationship with our uncle began to sour.
It all changed only weeks after my seventh birthday. Life has not been the same since.
I realized how not only was sex and sexuality a taboo, but how culturally, we were expected to be asexual.
So how do we go from having limited interactions with men (outside of our family) to living with one for the rest of our lives?
We are not close. No, we are far from that.
None of this would have been possible had I not made the decision to put my Muslim American identity out there and write.
There was one night in which we had a huge argument because I stole the blanket.