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How I became Muslim
By Umm Tasneem
I can remember running to my room getting on my knees and looking up to the sky saying in Spanish my prayer, “please God help me & my family make my Dad stop drinking and protect my mom,” I was eleven years old. That would be my last prayer till I was seventeen. I was born in Georgetown, Washington. I am Hispanic American. My father is Nicaraguan and my mother is from Puerto Rico. I was raised in the Catholic Church but my father looked into many other religions. For two years, he turned us into Buddhists against our own will. I have a younger brother and sister. We all lived in fear of my father mostly because he was an alcoholic who used to beat all of us including my mother until I was thirteen. Ironically, anyone would assume the woman in a situation so harmful would pack her bags and bolt to the door. Instead he left us. I wouldn't see or hear from him again till I was fifteen. Pregnant with my first child by then, I had no God. How could God let me down? I never did anything wrong! I was angry, disappointed. I thought God loved me, but he left me when I needed him the most. The lesson begins…
My freshman year of high school I met a Palestinian girl who became my best friend. I hung out at her house a lot. I got to see how close her family was. They are mostly a traditional Muslim family. The mother didn't cover nor did my friend, but they prayed. Her parents didn't approve of me for several reasons. One, I wasn't Muslim. I was also a pregnant teenager and they had the fear that I would corrupt their only daughter. My friend stayed with me even when I had my baby. She was the one that said the adan in my daughter's ear. I wanted my daughter to be like her: good, kind and modest. I was amazed that a Muslim family living in America still had morals. I wanted my child to have a good life. With the disappearance of my father, my mom worked really hard to support us so she was never around and we got into a lot of trouble. I started drinking and smoking, inevitably using drugs. I partied all night. I couldn’t even get up to take care of my daughter. My reputation was trashed. I still regret everything. I had no life, jumping from one relationship to another (Allah forgive me). I fell deeper into dunya (world) thinking that money, a car some stylish clothes would make me happier. Instead of living a life, I was living in a three-minute music video. Then came the nights when I would ask myself "how did I get here?" I kept telling myself that I didn't want Josaline going through this. How am I going to raise my little girl? All alone one night I cried, begging God to forgive me, asking him, "Please help me!" I knew deep in my heart I was wrong. Now the search begins…
I was invited to my best friends house to watch a movie "The book of signs". I became very curious about the Qur’an. This book knew things way before modern times like the stages of pregnancy. How Allah made the cow and mixed between the blood and the urine is milk that is beneficial. WOW! Not to mention the Qur’an was written a little over fourteen hundred years ago. I asked if I could go to the Sunday class for converts at the Mosque. I was told I would have to cover out of respect for the Mosque, but I chose not to. I went a couple times each time getting more scared. What would my family say? Becoming Muslim meant not drinking, no clubbing, nor eating pork. Hey! That's all we Puerto Ricans eat. I'm eighteen, a single mom who hadn't even read the Qur’an. What am I going to say? I watched a thirty-minute movie and became Muslim. That's exactly what I did. I took my shahadah five months before my nineteenth birthday in April of 1996. I felt so relieved like a huge weight had been lifted from my shoulders. I swear the clouds that day looked like cotton, and the sky never looked so blue…"I'm Muslim!" It took me a while to actually leave everything. I felt like a hypocrite. Eventually, another Muslim friend would teach me part of my prayer. Of course, the first year I struggled with myself, but also the persecution of others. I had a Muslim friend tell me not to be an extremist or I would ruin it for the rest of them. Unbelievable I think not. That was the least of my worries. My main concern was who is going to marry me? I don't wear hijab (headscarf) and I have a three-year-old daughter. No practicing Muslim man would want me. At least that's what I thought…
In April of 1997, a couple months after my brother took shahadah, we had this group of mutual friends of guys & girls in jahiliya (before Islam) majority of the group became Muslim. I had dated one of the guys when I was sixteen. We broke up but remained on and off for two years. He accepted Islam a year after I did. I couldn't believe it! He had a friend that I knew who also became Muslim, my brother had happened to work with his friend. One day my little brother came home to tell me someone is interested in marrying me. I thought it was my ex, but it was his best friend. I really wanted to marry my ex so I declined his offer, but told my brother my true intentions. The phone rang. My brother picked up and it was him calling to ask if I was interested in his friend. To make a long story short, I politely said no and we talked until dawn. Our talks would increase over a period of two weeks until our wedding day June 14, 1997. I met him at fifteen and married at nineteen. We have three kids together and have been married for three in a half years. He was Christian, I was catholic and Allah brought us together as Muslims. Which takes me back to the little girl in the beginning. She was too young to understand fate and that everything happens for a reason. While she blamed the Most Merciful above all creation. She never knew how much He really loved her. Right now, for the first time in my life, everything makes so much sense. I'll never leave again (In sha Allah) now just help me return the favor. (In sha Allah) May Allah forgive us and have mercy on us for what we do knowingly and unknowingly.
Ameen!
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