As I already mentioned, I am not much of an organized religion or church-going type of person, but more of an at-home worshipper. Because of this, and also because I was nervous about going by myself, it was a long time before I actually went to a mosque or masjid, despite being interested for so long. I'd already started showing up to places in hijab, learning the Islamic way of praying, cutting pork out of my diet, etc., even though I'd never been to a mosque or said the shahada (the declaration of faith that makes you officially Muslim).

There were times when I said that I was "in a relationship" with Islam, but not ready to "tie the knot" yet. In all honesty, I was skeptical about committing, partially because I didn't know if I could ever fit in with other Muslims.

So in January 2017, after Trump signed the first executive order banning refugees from the country, I attended my first protest at the airport, and I met a man there who was Muslim and a refugee himself. Standing near me during most of the protest, he began talking to me because I was wearing a hijab at the time. I explained my situation to him; that I had never been to a mosque because I was nervous going alone, not wanting to accidentally commit some kind of faux pas and offend anyone. He told me he was actually going there after the protest, and he asked if I'd like to come with him. I said sure, why not? So I got into this total stranger's car, and off I went on an impromptu trip to the masjid. I'm adventurous like that.

The masjid was packed that night because there was an event featuring a famous guest speaker (don't ask me who, I have no idea). As I sat on the floor, the crowd began to fill in around me, and another young woman sat down next to me. She was probably close to my age, or somewhere in her 20's. Concerned that the outfit she had on was incompatible with the position she was sitting in, she asked me to take a look at her lower back and make sure she wasn't exposed between her pants and top. In doing so, I also noticed that her top had three-quarter length sleeves; and below them, she had tattoos on her arms.

That moment had a huge impact on me because it made me realize that even I, someone who wasn't Islamophobic at all, was still capable of stereotyping. I'd had this stereotype in my head of what religious Muslims were like, and a Muslim woman with tattoos didn't fit that stereotype. And yet there she was.

For whatever reason, I think society in general expects Muslims to be more devout, more modest, more strict than people of any other religion, even when those other religions have the same teachings. For instance, yes, tattoos are against Islam in most people's opinions; but they are technically against Christianity, too. Yet there are a lot of Christians out there who have them, and most people aren't invalidating their Christian beliefs because of it. Why does it seem so unusual for a Muslim to have them, then? Why do we hold Muslims to a higher standard than any other religion?

It really got me thinking, and ultimately, this woman inspired me so much by simply being herself in a public space. She made me feel... seen. I could relate to her without even knowing her. I don't have any tattoos, but plenty of other "alternative" fashion choices and hobbies that the stuffier Muslims and "Masjid Aunties" would probably not approve of. Things that I wondered if I'd be able to keep doing and still be accepted by the religious community. But I guess one thing I eventually realized is that I don't have to be accepted. I already knew this when it came to society in general, but when it came to joining a new religious community, I was more concerned; and it brought up the question of whether or not I even wanted to be a part of it.

Sadly, this woman is probably looked down upon by some of the stuffier folks as well for having tattoos, and yet she didn't let that stop her from being herself and practicing her religion in her own way, showing up at the masjid because she wanted to be there, and visibly being herself, in spite of the fact that some people might judge her. This woman, whose name I never even learned, helped me break through the stereotypes in my head, as well as my own self-doubt, to realize that maybe I could be Muslim after all. I still don't know anything about her, but she is a badass rebel queen in my mind.

I had another similar moment that occurred when I was looking at a meetup event for new Muslims on Facebook, and decided to browse the profiles of some people who had commented on it. One woman appeared to be a yoga instructor and her profile picture struck me because it showed her in a leotard type of outfit with visible thighs and collarbones, and if I remember correctly, she also had visible tattoos. Another Muslim woman out there breaking stereotypes. Funny thing is, I wound up getting to know somebody through work later on, who, during Ramadan, brought up the fact that her sister was also fasting and went to the same masjid I occasionally frequented. When she described her, I said "I think I know who your sister is" because I remembered her Facebook profile. We became friends after that.

After I did get a little more comfortable with showing up to the mosque by myself, I began attending a weekly class that was made for new Muslims and non-Muslims to learn more about the religion. It was taught by someone who was actually fairly progressive, which I really appreciated. One of the things I remember him pointing out is that the Qur'an only lists a very small handful of things that are actually haram (forbidden). Among them are drinking alcohol, eating the flesh of the swine (pork), and having sex outside of marriage, along with (I think) eating roadkill or animals that were killed in a certain way, and of course elevating anything else to the level of God. I might be forgetting something -- he might have been qualified to list them all from memory, but I am not -- but the point is, there are very few of them. Everything else that staunch Muslims deem haram is actually not named as forbidden in the Qur'an, and came from other sources.

Another thing I very clearly remember him saying is that committing a sin is different when it affects other people. Drinking alcohol might be forbidden, but if you're secretly getting drunk at home by yourself, you won't really be hurting anybody (except, in some cases, yourself). When what you do negatively impacts or directly harms other people, it becomes an entirely different thing. That point really stood out to me because so many of the things the "Haram Police" like to yell at you for are things that don't affect anybody but yourself. And I mean there are some really goofy things (in my opinion) that they consider haram.

I was "straight edge" from a young age, so I never drank alcohol or used any kind of intoxicants, and sex isn't something I'm super interested in anyway, as you know if you've read my posts about asexuality. Giving up pork was the hardest thing for me, and even that was really not a big deal. I feel like if you're serious about your faith, giving up one type of food isn't too much to ask. So for me, someone who was already spiritual, my life really did not change much when I decided to become Muslim. Some people do change a lot, especially if they're someone who had never even believed in God before; but for some of us, it feels like we've always been Muslim and we just didn't know it. Either one is fine, by the way. For me, I guess the biggest change is that I now fast from dawn to sunset for one month out of the year... and do it successfully now.

But all the big parts of my identity haven't changed at all.

I can be Muslim and still be a metalhead. I can be Muslim and dress gothic. I can be Muslim and be part of the LGBTQIA community. I can be Muslim and still show off my long hair on occasion, while also getting dressed up in corsets and fishnets if I want to. I can do literally anything that makes me happy, and while some people might disapprove of it, it doesn't give them the right to act as if Allah himself has appointed them to police my behavior.

You can be Muslim even if you're a foul-mouthed punk-rocker, if you're living "in sin" with a boyfriend or girlfriend, if you're gay, if you're trans, if you wear bikinis to the beach, if you're covered with tattoos and piercings, if your favorite day of the year is Halloween, if you're a pole dancer (check out my awesome hijabi pole dancer friend, Neda, on Instagram @hijabiluscious), and anything else. Just... don't be a disgusting person. Respect other people. Be kind. There are so many ways to be a Muslim, but kindness and respect should be central to all of us, and to all religious people. If your faith doesn't make you kinder, it isn't doing you any good.

I'm not saying we shouldn't use our religion as an opportunity to improve certain things about ourselves. If we have bad habits, our religious identity can be a great way to motivate ourselves to change for the better. In fact, the way I see it, that's what religious rules were written for in the first place: to protect you from bad habits and other things that can harm you or the world around you. Things like alcohol and pork aren't good for us. Though pork is much safer these days than it was when these guidelines were written, it is still pretty gross when you realize why it's considered an unclean meat. I know some completely non-religious people who don't eat pork for that reason, despite eating other meats.

But there's a difference between changing bad habits or becoming healthier, and denying the basic things that make us individuals. I was fine with giving up pork, but I'm not giving up the things that make me me -- and I have zero reason to believe that God would want me to. I will always believe that God wants me to be happy; that he wants me to have fun and be an individual and feel fulfilled, because I don't see what the point in existing would be otherwise.

I also think that one of our responsibilities as people of faith in the twenty-first century is to understand that these rules were written in a very, very different time. For instance, when reproduction was necessary to populate the planet, and sex almost always led to babies since birth control didn't exist, of course the family unit was viewed differently. Things like promiscuity and homosexuality were viewed in the context of that time period and how they related to reproduction.

By now, our planet has come far enough -- maybe even a little too far -- in terms of population, so the needs of society are not the same. Where gay sex might once have been considered putting your own pleasure above the needs of your society, now that is no longer the case. A gay couple who can't biologically have children are no worse sinners than a straight married couple who choose not to have children, which is also becoming more and more common.

It's no longer necessary for every adult to reproduce to keep the world populated, so there is -- and should be -- a lot more freedom for people to pursue happiness in whatever way is right for them. As society becomes more and more modern, we should be more willing to accept that the same type of lifestyle is not for everyone. Our existence means more than just getting married and reproducing and living the same life as everyone else at the expense of our own happiness. Our ancestors suffered through that existence so that we could have the freedom not to.

You still have the right to wait until marriage before you have sex, to avoid same-sex relationships, and to live your life the way you want to in the name of your religion. And that's great! But other people have the right to live the way they want to, as well. This is one thing that many religious people seem to be unable to grasp, and this includes evangelical Christians and other religions as well. What you do in your private life is between you and God. One of the most important responsibilities to me as a person of faith is simply not judging others. Just because we consider ourselves followers of God doesn't mean that we get to take on his duties, such as deciding who goes to hell, or who is a "real" Muslim.

Like every religion, there are strict, conservative people and progressive, open-minded people within Islam. Despite so many people seemingly thinking that all 1.8 billion Muslims share the same beliefs and personality, in reality everyone is different, not only depending on what country you grew up in, but also on how open-minded you are as an individual and how good you are at minding your own business.

Islam is actually quite simple and leaves plenty of room for individuality, but humans have made it so much more complicated than it needs to be. The same could be said of most religions, I think. But there are tons of progressive Muslims out there, and if you feel like you won't fit in at your local masjid, there is still a community of Muslims around the world who will accept you for who you are. If you don't find any of those people locally, then you can probably find them on the internet. I'm one of them!

tags: islam, religion/faith, individuality