love

Half Agony, Half Hope

“Do you have any children?” a nice woman making small talk asks me.
I reply pleasantly, “No, I don’t,” but my inner monologue is racing.
“Children? I don’t have children because I don’t have a husband.
I don’t have a husband because I never had a romantic relationship with a guy.
I never had a boyfriend, I’ve never even been kissed and I’m way older than
Drew Barrymore was when she was in that movie with Michael Vartan!
I’m older than Jesus ( AS) when he was on this earth! Oh God, what if it’s too late for me to have children?“

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What a recovering heroin addict taught me about Islam

*The names in this article have been changed for privacy purposes.

I recently received a disturbing call from a former client’s wife informing me that her husband had passed on a few months prior. My heart sank. While serving as Adam’s attorney, I had developed an unlikely friendship with this particular client. Although his documents gave no description of Adam other than “drug addict,” it did not take me long to discover that he was a floundering but pure soul whose shortcomings belied his innate goodness.

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A love letter to the men in my life

I have been blessed. The women in my life have been strong, nurturing and supportive. Not only will they never tell where the bodies are buried, but they will bring the GPS and the shovels in case I ever need to move those bodies. But this past Father’s Day, I began to think about how the men in my life have shaped the person I have become.

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Part 3 of the debate: Should Muslim women be able to marry non-Muslim men?

When Huma Abedin, aide to Hilary Clinton, married Anthony Weiner, New York Congressman, it sent tongues wagging in the Muslim community. She did the unthinkable, the ultimate taboo for a good Muslim girl from a good Muslim family – she married a Jew… and he did not convert. O-M-G. The question that makes even the most open-minded Imams squirm was revived – Can a Muslim woman marry a non-Muslim man? The answer in all the major schools of thought has traditionally been a resounding NO. Absolutely, not. Not ever. Haraam, sister.

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Part 2 of the debate: Muslim women should not be able to marry non-Muslim men

I am not a legal scholar and I have not researched the legal aspects of the issue of Muslim women marrying non-Muslim men. To me, the essential issue in looking at this particular issue or others that “progressive” Muslims tend to discuss is whether “Islam” allows it or not – not whether we think it should be allowed or not. What we want is too tempting in this kind of topic and can bias our interpretations of our religion, and of course what each person wants can and does vary.

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Part 1 of the debate: Muslim women should be able to marry non-Muslim men

“And among His Signs is this, that He created for you mates from among yourselves, that ye may dwell in tranquility with them, and He has put love and mercy between your (hearts): verily in that are Signs for those who reflect” (30:21, Y. Ali). “I’m not against capture and convert,” a male Muslim friend of mine frequently provides this jocular rejoinder in discussions about finding solutions to the rising number of successful, accomplished, unmarried Muslim American women in their 30s.

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Part 2: An interracial marriage: Over my dead body

Although it took many months of persistent coaxing on our and the community elders’ parts, my wife and I prevailed; even after we tied the knot though, I continued to feel burdened by the suspicion that we were only one among hundreds, if not thousands, of American Muslim couples who fought against families and communities opposed to their interracial marriage. Within the Muslim community, I realized the power of the unthinkable: When it came to marriage, some Muslims couldn’t even entertain the thought of marrying individuals from particular “groups.” The idea of a black Muslim man marrying an Arab Muslim girl was inconceivable. Joining an Indonesian and a Pakistani in holy matrimony…forget about it.

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Part 1: An interracial marriage: Over my dead body

Seven years ago, I married a wonderful woman. My wife-to-be was an Arab-American Muslim and I was a Cuban-American Muslim. Both she and I considered our ethnic identities incidental; after all, although my Cuban family raised me and she was brought up by her Algerian parents, we both shared the “American” after the hyphen, which made us quite compatible. For starters, English was our stronger language. We also had a similar taste in books and films, shared congruous views on the philosophy and practice of our faith, and both knew who “The Simpsons” were. We were a perfect fit, or so we thought.

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