I'm gay. I'm also Muslim.
I was raised Muslim and have always been a believer. That is something I can not just stop doing or turn off: I have faith, and sometimes I honestly wish I didn't. It's been causing me a lot of anguish lately, more than before. You see, I'm also gay, and as I come out to more and more people, and feel more comfortable with this fact, those two sides start to clash to unseen degrees.
All of this is happening in my head of course, but it's the kind of internal debate that can really make me depressed, or at least sad. The main problem being, of course, that Islam is against homosexuality.
Funny, my earliest memory is of me kissing a boy when I was 4 years old, which technically means I was gay before I knew anything about religion, which really does not help me at all.
Picking one doesn't work either: both feel so inherent to who I am. I can't help but be attracted to men, I mean I don't even notice girls in the subway or on the street. That's kind of how I knew for sure I was gay.
But I also do believe in the teachings, and maybe that's because they've been forced on me since I was a kid, and maybe I'm gay because of some hormonal imbalance when my mom was pregnant. Or maybe not, but the facts remain the same.
And it sucks.
Because what I'm left with is wondering why oh WHY would God do something like this to me, to others. And if it's a test, damn it it's one too hard I just can't pass. But I would like to think everything else I do counts for something, right? Nobody's perfect. I don't drink, I don't smoke, I'm nice and always help others, I do my best to be a good Muslim.
Except for one thing. I'm gay.
And I really don't know how to keep on going without looking like a hypocrite. I can basically never come out to my parents for fear of being disowned, but also because I would cry for ever and I know they would too. Except that's not realistic because on the off chance that I meet someone one day who loves me and me him, and we live together, I can't put his life on pause and hide him each time my parents would want to come over and visit me.
If I was given a choice: to not be Muslim, or to not be gay anymore, I'm not sure which one I would pick. I sometimes wish I was a more feminine kid growing up. Maybe they would have gotten used to the idea over time. Or maybe not.
I'm at a point where I can't keep this internal debate locked up in a drawer somewhere in my head. I need to figure it out, and soon. No solution feels like one that'll make me more happy in life though...