It’s been forever since I put a letter after another together here on the blog. Honestly, it’s been getting harder for me to string words together and share what I’ve been going through.
The past few weeks were a whirlwind of bad episodes, I can’t be alone with my thoughts without shedding silent tears even when my best friend sleeps next to me.
I’ve managed to hide the pain when I’m out with friends, I pushed through when work needed to be done, and I’ve once more slathered a smile on my face when I needed to be out in public.
But here’s the truth, I’m exhausted mentally. Emotionally, I feel drained and I feel it taking a toll on my physical health. I can’t sleep before the sun shines through the window, I feel hunger yet my body rejects the food I consume. I try to convince myself that it’s all mind over matter when it comes to this, and logically I understand that there are those that I can ask for help and that they’re there with open arms… whilst grateful, I admit to be ashamed cause what can I offer back?
Today, tears dampened my cheek when I was on a motorbike ride to meet my friends. I tilt my head down at the gathering and kept to my journal. I try to tire myself out but my eyes remain awake. Yet when I sleep, flashes of memories mix itself into my dreams keeping me from waking.
It’s another night I meet with the strike of dawn, I wish I was home but home is a location lost in my past. My heart burns with a lingering pain yearning for relief.
“You can’t be gay!” She said,
“Why not?” I questioned,
“Because it’s haram…” and just like that the conversation ends.
What makes homosexuality a bigger sin than blind faith and ignorance? It’s through personal experience and stories in community spaces that I found out how conservatism is the trigger to the injustice that blinds logic.
Growing up where heterosexuality is the default, being queer is something that launched a million questions. Sure, to some it wasn’t a surprise but others were not as kind. A lot of the responses surround the belief that being queer is just about being physical with someone of the same gender – and while it’s frustrating, there are still many that does not differentiates gender and sexuality. It’s about time for the stigma of queers being nymphomaniacs to be out of the picture. I want to open the conversation on the psychological aspects that includes culture, gender, and discrimination or intolerance experienced in the community.
I’m now conducting my own personal research based on academic resources and other’s experiences that would hopefully bridge the gap where misunderstandings happen.
The questions I had to answer include but are not limited to:
- Are you sure?
- How did this happen?
- Maybe you should look into therapy?
- Have you sought to find God to change you back to normal?
This research isn’t limited to just queer individuals. Allies and friends of those under the umbrella term of queer are welcome to submit their opinions, woes, and questions on the topic of faith under the rainbow. This research is planned to be the base for a larger set of articles that I hope can be a voice that helps and supports the community where needed.
So answer me any of these questions with your story:
- How religious were you growing up? (did you go to church/the mosque/temple on a regular basis and on your own accords?)
- When did you accept yourself as a queer individual?
- How did you handle the situation (if your surrounding wasn’t supportive)?
- Do you still practice your religious responsibilities after accepting your individuality?
- Are you generally happy?
But most importantly,
What would you like the world to know about being an individual and someone that is part of the rainbow community?
Those opposing are also welcome to send in submissions of opinions on the matter, though anything harmful and ignorant will be flagged.
I’m open to a level conversation – not a one sided argument.
I will take in account the sources of my research and do the best to have an objective voice that advocates equality without dismissing or insulting anyone’s faith or belief. Nevertheless, this research is an opinion based entity that will be on qualitative grounds.
Drop me a comment or tweet me at @shenntyara, and I’ll try my best to go through them one by one.
Those choosing to email please put in the subject line: Faith and Rainbows.
Please put a disclaimer if submissions are meant to be anonymous, I want everyone who has something to say to know that it’s safe to open up (even to a random person on the internet like myself). Feel free to record a video if that is your preferred medium – I will blur out faces if you’re not comfortable with being out.
Submission ends this April 28, 2018.
Q: How do adults get over heartache?
A: Stop building houses for travellers and cages for rivers.
The issue that seems to be a reoccurring event in my life is that I tend to fall for the wrong type of people. Not in any career oriented situation, but in my (non-existent) love life.
Recently, I ended a situationship with someone that inspired the last few poems I’ve published; while it hurt and there is a void that feels like a black hole, I realise it was for the better. How I love, is borderline obsessive. Everything or nothing at all. This type of love is scary and not as popular as the modern love that everyone used to.
The right kind of love I’m looking for is someone to conquer nightmares with, someone to be my sounding board and someone who will give me back the efforts I’m giving them. It’s a tall order and one that comes with the need for patience and baggage to handle. A friend asked me why do I want it all? The answer is simple. I want to be given what I’m willing to earn.
So am I going to give up my expectations? No. But I know that I will be taking a long deserved break from it all. I have a few upcoming projects that I’m looking forward to update here when I can.
Until then, expect more poetry from this bleeding heart of mine.
There’s an incorrect I taste like a cigarette without a chaser, this disconnect feels too direct when all I want to do is embrace her.
That sided smile with its dimple seems like it’s mocking me saying “if only it was that simple.”
The moon hides as the fireworks trigger, I’m wide awake writing these words fighting from admitting how much I miss her.
So wrap your pinky around my finger, promise me this feeling would eventually lose its power to linger.
A minute, was all you needed to text me where you went
An hour, that’s how long I cried and wished you were there when my bubble burst
A day, that’s how long I thought you’d be gone
A week, that’s how long it took to lose your image from the chat list on my phone
A month, hopefully that’s how long it’ll take me to stop thinking of you
A year, maybe by then you won’t be a name that I avoid saying
A decade, maybe by then I would be happier
A century, maybe by then my existence will be forgotten
A lifetime was how long I planned to stay with you
A moment was all that it took to fall for you
A goodbye was all you needed to say
A hello is not going to be enough for me to stay