Here is the latest from Shakila, the Liberated One, over at her blog. She is very concerned, as you'll see, that some Islamic supremacists are saying that she is a fictional character of my creation. While I appreciate her concern, it is not necessary: as we have seen here again and again and again, Islamic supremacists have no interest in the truth whatsoever, and will say anything to exonerate Islam from the natural consequences of its texts and teachings.
...Someone has commented on my last post that why don’t I share it with my parents instead of writing about it on the blog? I think either that guy is mentally challenged or he is just a sadist who wants to read about yet another honor killing in the Muslim world. My parents are really staunch Muslims. My dad prays in the mosque five times a day and my mom wears the burqa and prays 6 times a day, 5 obligatory prayers and then an additional one called Tahajjud. There is no way I can share with parents or my siblings or any of my relatives, and not even with my Muslim friends or colleagues. If my family ever finds out, they might not kill me, but they will definitely disown me for life.
The only reason I am writing this blog is because I need to release my pent up frustrations and this is the only way I can do it, an anonymous blog. None of you can understand my predicament unless and until you also happen to be an ex-Muslim. Even now, I get nightmares every night where I am either fasting or praying or circumambulating around that black square object in Mecca. I get panic attacks each time I pass by a mosque or hear or see people praying. I have spent 35 years in an evil cult and it is so difficult to get over it or put it behind me. Sometimes, I even feel suicidal because I just cannot take it anymore, I feel extremely lonely and disconnected from the people around me. I feel totally alienated from my own family and I feel this suffocation inside me which is really killing me.
When I was in school, we were taught Islamic studies right from kindergarten till grade 12, and even during my graduation, Islamic studies was a compulsory subject. We were taught a whitewashed version of Mohammed’s biography which depicted him as a saint, a kind hearted and loving prophet of God who wanted a Utopian society where everyone believed in one God. He was a poor orphan who lost his mother at the age of 6 and then was brought up by his grandfather and uncle, then married a woman 15 years older than him. He defended this people from the enemy and the wars that he fought were only defensive. This was what I knew all my life until recently when I read the truth behind his benevolent demeanor, when I was exposed to books such as Understanding Muhammad, The Truth about Muhammad, The Cult of the Moon God, Why I am not a Muslim and several other similar books. One day, I want to write a book as well, about my past life and a typical Muslim woman’s life, the challenges she faces on a day to day basis. In fact, I already got an offer to co-write a book, and I am seriously considering the possibility of doing it.