Nabz1978 (former Muslim)
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Testimony of Leaving Islam
I want to pen down a few words about my leaving Islam, but before I do, let me warn you that I I’m not much of a writer, so if things do seem all over the place, I would request you to, please, overlook my shortcomings and not criticize me.
Anyways, to keep things short, while not holding back on the details, I was born in a Muslim family in India, and I grew up, basically a Muslim. I was much of a “believer” back then, I hate to admit, and I modeled my life much on the same lines. I was one of those “decent, cultured, and pious” gals, not stepping out of the house without the hijab on, and blah blah blah. I followed everything with blind faith, and never dared to question a thing about the faith, even though, somewhere in my mind, I knew I didn’t want this and that something wasn’t right. I didn’t, however, dare to question the traditions of the faith. I was a Muslim, and it was a “grave sin” for Muslims to be doing that, and I didn’t want to be condemned to hell for such a “wrongdoing.”
I stepped into my youth harboring the same “principles” (if you could call them that). I went to college, and I found a good job after finishing my studies (yes, amazingly, I was given the liberty to work). It was the first open environment I had been in (I had studied from a Muslim school and college, so hadn’t been in touch with any “kaffirs”), where I actually met “thinking” people, two of them who even knew about the reality that was Islam, and it was these colleagues of mine that gradually lifted away the veil that had clouded my mind all these years. I hadn’t, until then, even though I was Muslim, done reading into the Islamic “religion.” I would just reiterate what other Muslims would say about Islam being the religion of peace, the religion of this, the religion of that, and so on, but thanks to these friends, I was eventually able to clear my clogged-up brain that had been crammed with gibberish all these years, and find the truth for myself.
I didn’t leave the “religion” immediately, though, ruminating over the next course of action I should take. I knew I wanted to let go of it completely, but I somehow couldn’t find the courage. It was a few months back that I eventually did, much to the horror of my parents and family. I don’t have any contact with my family or relatives now, or with any one of those moles, for that matter, and I’m happy that I don’t. I remember the hurdles they tried to create for me, but I gathered up the courage to leap over those hurdles as well. It’s said, after all, isn’t it, that if there’s a will, there’s a way?
Well, here I am now, a happy woman, and a happy apostate, and last but not least, a happy wife as well, having gotten married barely a couple of months after I became an apostate (we both were smitten). Oh, and let me mention that my husband is a “kaffir” (boy, am I damned for eternity!)
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