Author: Anon

How my Dad could that to me was so hurtful it forced me to see what I was brushing under the carpet. The way I lived meant that my bar was so low i had no expectations for a Husband. The men I went for never gave me a relationship I dreamt of but I still went for them anyway. And worst part is, no matter how undeserving they were, I kept bestowing them of the highest honour which was me, my body and me as a wife.

I started dating my first husband when I was 17, he had just turnt 19 at the time. As far as I can remember he didn’t have 1 qualification to his name. He was expelled from secondary school in year 10 and at 18 he tried to go back into college but was kicked out too. He had nothing but he knew how to shower me with love at the beginning. He used to say cute stuff like I was his queen and I was the only girl for him. Lets just say he loveboomed me into being his ride or die.

After one year of being together and once I enrolled in Uni I asked my Dad straight away if he could give his blessing for us to get married. My dad was super protective over me as I was the youngest and only daughter he had. He immediately said no and that I should finish university first before thinking about marriage. His reasons were fair and I couldn’t argue with him. He worked hard for his kids and he didn’t want me to get pregnant or drop out of uni. He wanted us to build something for ourselves before we thought about all of that. As a parent now looking at all the sacrifices I do for my son I understand.  You don’t realise your parents were right all along until you have children of your own.

So me and him continued our relationship but I noticed once he had me, he stopped giving me attention. Our relationship was soooo diabolical. He only gave me attention when he wanted stuff from me and I was dumb enough to give that to him. When I look back at it, every encounter involved some type of coercion from his side. He would forever beg me to give him something.

It was one of those relationships that had the potential to quickly devolve into a sexually abusive one because it started off already on the fringes. He kept asking me to have sex early on despite me wanting to remain a virgin until marriage. And whenever I kept saying no he’d leave it and then make me feel weird about it later on telling me what all his other boys were doing. It kind of made me feel left behind and I stupidly wanted to be the example of a perfect wifey. So we were intimate, I realised straight away we had different level of intimacy. It didn’t feel like a two way street and that’s why I didn’t enjoy it as much as he did and that created a lot of conflict. When I think about it it’s was way more than our mismatched libidos, the issue was his relentless objectification of my body and how that became the centre of our relationship.

He never took me out on dates and spent his money on weed. His communication was dead the only time he facetimed me was when he wanted to disrespect me as a Muslimah and my body. I ignored his lifestyle because I was so desperate to be someone’s Mrs that I wanted to be that for him

We were on and off for 2 years in which I became pregnant. We had to marry immediately and because of his circumstances, my family had to pay for everything. My Dad was so disappointed in me he could barely look me in the eye. Worse my ex husband couldn’t even give me a proper wedding without any mehr. A sister on here who posted a dilemma described my situation word for word bar for bar. We couldn’t afford to live anywhere else so we lived with my parents. He had no respect for me or my family. He never worked so he would spend his days always smoking his weed out the window ALL WHILST I WAS PREGNANT. He didn’t care about second hand smoke and if it would affect our baby. The whole pregnancy was traumatic because he never supported me.

When I broke my water he was getting high with his friends and he kept lying to me and my family every time we tried to call him. He obviously didn’t want to turn up to the hospital high. He was forced to once he realised I was having an emergency c-section. When he turned up he stank of weed and his eyes were bloodshot red. My dad wanted to fight him in the ward. I felt so humiliated but I kept making justifications for his behaviour when it came to him you couldn’t tell me anything.

In short summary, because its not even about him but his lifestyle took over his life and we had to get a divorce. My dad sat me down and had a real conversation with me and made me promise I would never get married to a man like him again. My Dad reassured me and said he would help me raise my son until I had someone in my life who could me. But my need for romantic love meant I would keep breaking those promises to my dad again and again. I was single for less than 5 months before I started to speak to someone new. And he was exactly the same person as my ex husband. No job and was a smoker. When we started dating, he would get so jealous whenever I had to look after my son he would take it personally.

I pride myself on always making sure I’m a good mother to my son, I do things with him constantly. This new man though was a narcissist and could only survive if he had all my attention. I was so naive and trying so desperately that I kept asking him to marry me. 6 months after we first started talking and he asked my Dad only because I refused to repeat zina this time around. I spent months repenting, being on time for my salah and making constant dua that my creator would forgive me. The only reason he asked for my hand is because he wanted to speed up sleeping with me. He practically showed up with nothing when he came to my parents. No gifts no money nada not even perfume. My dad respectively told him to come back when he wants to ask for my hand the correct way and sent him away. I was really upset with him but my Dad refused to talk to me.

When I spoke to the narc, he was fuming. Bar for bar he said who does my dad think he is, he should be grateful I’m even asking for his daughters hand because I was used goods. He was so angry he didn’t even see my reaction. Seeing him so angry that he didn’t realise that he was revealing what he felt about me was God’s sign that this wasn’t going to work out.

I stayed single for a while when I met a third man, and he was a combination of both my exes. Broke and narcissistic. He was a well known drug dealer in the area and had also been divorced and he had a son of his own. He swooned me with all his flashy things and at this point in my life I was becoming extremely frustrated not being married.  When I saw him having ample amounts of money I imagined him being the provider I wanted. My son at this point was just starting nursery and I wanted to give him a sibling too so in my head this all made sense to me to get married. I had all these time stamps on my life and it kept compelling me to make horrible choices that were affecting my life. As someone that suffers from anxiety, I’m always searching for someone to make me feel protected but I ended up finding and doing the opposite.

When I told my Dad about this new guy, straight away my Dad knew who he was and so did my brothers. My Dad is mostly a cool and calm collected man but he was so angry at me and he gave me the harshest reality check.

He said my desperation for a man has made me lose sense and that I’m eager to end up with an animal if that meant I wouldn’t be by myself. I keep betraying my son when I go out to seek those men and to leave if this was what I wanted to do.

The room was so silent you could’ve heard a pin drop. I wanted to cry but it was what I needed to hear. The way my Dad said that to me was so hurtful that it forced me to see what I was brushing under the carpet. The way I lived meant that my bar was so low

I had no expectations for a Husband. The men I went for never gave me a relationship I dreamt of but I still went for them anyway. And worst part is, no matter how undeserving they were, I kept bestowing them of the highest honour which was me, my body and me as a wife.

Today I’ve been single for the last 3 years, in that time I finished uni and went on to complete my masters. Alhamdulilah I have a job and I am able to look my son independently. Being alone has taught me so much but surprisingly it’s taught me how much I love my own space and how I am never going to give it up so carelessly again. Being alone is not only enjoyable it’s necessary. It let me relax and do whatever I wanted. It needs to be balanced obviously but that’s what my family is for. They are my healthy dose of interaction so I wouldn’t go back to square one again

There’s no shame in wanting love because everyone does want to be loved and to be liked by others. I’m trying to be less unforgiving with myself espec with the choices I made as a young girl. I nearly ruined my relationship with my amazing father for people that didn’t respect me. I owe my Dad everything he worked his life away just to get me where I am today. When I was a kid I thought he said “no” to me too many times & didn’t trust me but as I grew older I realised he spent his entire life protecting me from the dangers of this world. Any man that tries to enter my life has to match up to him otherwise all his sacrifices for me would have been for nothing.

‘They created stories, people being sick, family members needing money, being homeless. All tricks to continue me giving money to them.‘

This is my story of how money ruined my family.

As the oldest in my family, I was the second dad in the house and my parents especially my hooyo relied on me. It wasn’t small things like helping out picking up the kids, a lot more labour was involved. I had to get a job at 16 and immediately half of my paycheck was given to the family. But this was calm, part of being the oldest meant that logically I became a giver. In retrospect I realise this is probably where it began. I didn’t necessarily stand up for myself in those regards. I gave everything I could whenever I could give it.

I liked this part because it made me feel like I was the provider and that I helped my family. Even as a young boy I took pride in doing that and it made me more responsible as a man. In some households not many Somali brothers are taught how to be responsible and the labour is often passed onto their sisters to do what they should be doing. This wasn’t the case for me at all. I made sure I excelled in my studies so I could get a better job inshallah to do this for my family.

I went on to University, and my mum already knew what SFE was. She encouraged me to take the maximum loans. It was her sister, aunt Khadra [this is a fake name] that pressured her to ask me. She has a lot of daughters and they all went to university so she was well aware of SFE payments. Of course I was calm with this. But afterwards this kept happening and it started to feel like things were just being taken from my pockets and that I didn’t have much say where it went. My course was very prestigious and there was a reason why the loan was so big. My schedule was jam packed with lectures and there was no way of even considering to get a job. If I wanted to excel my degree had to be my primary focus. So in that regards the loan would have been very helpful. With this I had to buy everything. Course books were expensive, I needed a new laptop and several other things. But my mum said she desperately needed my sfe that term because a family member abroad was very sick. I gave it straight away without thinking, anything my hooyo needed I will give her, even if it’s my last.

So I continued working throughout the weekends to pay off what I needed. I won’t lie it was difficult. I was broke as a joke. I met my wife around this time and I couldn’t even afford to take her on a date but the January installments were coming. Right before then my aunt Khadra called me asking if she could borrow some money for her young children’s tuition. Her husband died along time ago May Allah widen his grave. So she was raising the younger ones herself and most of the older girls were either moved out or got married. She said if her husband was here she wouldn’t struggle so much and to me this justified giving her half of my payments. I feel bad for people a lot that stops me from having boundaries but it was money at the end of the day and I knew I was getting it back. This pattern of giving my sfe loans away continued throughout my whole studies up until I graduated, even my uncle got money from me. No one gave it back and I didn’t see a penny of it.

I landed an incredible graduate job and I was starting on a 50k salary. I wanted to keep that to myself but hooyo was eager to know what I was earning. When I told her she was very happy and proud of me. She started talking about stuff to spend my money on like ayuto and how I should save money the usual stuff your hooyo would say haha. Quickly though she let me know I would have to pay towards the rent but I was fine with that I was already doing that before but on a minor scale.

I wanted to keep my earnings private but by the end of my first week at my new job, my whole family from back home knew. They kept asking me for stuff and random numbers kept calling me. This is where it gets very depressing because looking back my generosity was taken as a weakness. They created stories, people being sick, family members needing money, being homeless. All tricks to continue me giving money to them.

Not once did I get to enjoy the fruits of my labour, every month I was paying someone else’ bills. Money became the bane of my life and there was no excitement of getting that end of month pay check because I knew by the second day it would be gone out of my account. The only thing I could look forward to was my wife and around this time we wanted to get married. To this day I cherish her. She helped to distract me from the depressing thoughts that were persistent. I had never been suicidal before this point but I was slowly getting there. I thought as soon as we were to get married that my family would have some shame and stop asking me for money. But when I suggested marriage, they were all opposed to it. They said your family needs you, who is this girl? All things to stop me from marrying her. The next day aunt Khadra came to the house with a rumour that my mrs was a gold digger and that she tried to get married to someone else before. I confronted her about it and she said it wasn’t true and I believed her.  But it didn’t make sense to me that my aunt would lie so I did have doubts. I didn’t end up marrying her that time but we continued to date.

The money grabbing tactics continued and it made me severely depressed. I was paying for my aunt Khadra to go back and forth to visit sick family because my mum was unable to. Every day I was spending. My colleagues who had started with me all had enough to put down deposits for homes and I had debts. All I could think about was what I had to pay and it messed with me. My mental health was suffering to the point I had to step away from work. I didn’t care about not getting another next paycheck I just needed the rat race to stop.

When I told my parents, my mum changed her demeanor towards me. She called me incompetent, that I was a big man with no job and how could I lose my job? When I told her about my mental health and how much I deteriorated throughout the year I thought she would have sabr for me. In these exact words this is what she said to me

“How can you be sick in your head? You should be embarrassed to even say that”

My home life became so hostile. My mum stopped bringing me food or washing my clothes. Every time she saw me she would sigh or mutter something under her breath. It was very clear she didn’t want me there. I questioned so much how she could change and it didn’t make sense to me. My abo felt bad I could tell but he didn’t stand up for me either it was just the ‘isaga daa’ but that’s it.

I asked my mum for money a few times and each time she rejected me and told me to go back to work. Each time felt a stab to the chest because my whole life I spent giving my mum every last penny. I got desperate and asked my aunt Khadra for a loan and she said she was broke and it should be her asking me for money. It was the same with my uncle who continually used to ask me for money too. In my time of need I had nothing and no one to support me. But I had patience

I decided to use the last of my credit card to visit family back home and spend a few months getting my mental health back in order. I thought the sun would do me good. To this day I’m beyond words of how my family did me on this trip

When I got there I stayed with my ayeeyo and some of my cousins. All of them had the latest iPhones and a PS4, a stark contrast to what my family had told me. I asked them who got them this and to my shock, they said it was Khadra and that she was their favourite aunty but theres more.

Aunt Khadra has a business here and it was a big store of her selling goods she bought from the UK and business was booming. She even had land and built a home. I kept asking myself how she had money because to me she was penniless and destitute. That day wallahi I felt anger like never before. All the lies all the deceit used to trick me into giving her money the position she put me in. It didn’t occur to me that my mum was in on this too until my cousin said to me “why are you not staying in your mother’s house that she has?”

A house? Not once did my mum ever mention a house to me. When I asked him to show me this house, when we got there I saw there were people living in there and that’s when I found out she was renting it out. That’s when I started asking more questions, which family member was sick, who was struggling. All the things my family were telling me when they were sucking me dry. All my cousins laughed at me like I was crazy. They had no clue who I was talking about

That’s when I couldn’t take it anymore. I couldn’t eat or sleep. I kept thinking about everything I lost being charitable to my family. I have never been hurt so much before but this was on another level. My own hooyo betraying me. My kindness used against me and in my time of need those people were no where to be seen.

A few nights after I booked my flight back and I was on violence.

That day I landed I sat everyone down and told them everything I knew. I called them thieves, I called them selfish and I called them liars. This was the first time I had ever raised my voice to my family but it was happening. At first they tried to deny it but I showed pictures of the houses, the shops, voicenotes of my cousins saying aunt Khadra got them the phones all coming out of their mouth. Irrefutable evidence of them cheating me out of money. That’s when the couldn’t deny it but instead they went on to say that it was none of my business what they decided to do with the money, whatever I gave was charity. The last thing I said to them was so why didn’t you help me? They had nothing to say.

That day I moved out of the house. I took all my things with me and was never going back. There was something you said Lula that resonates with me. You have two choices to make and its either to go forward or go backwards. I learned this the hard way because especially for us brothers, there is no one to pick you up after you’ve fallen. I remembered everything that was done to me and it gave me the fire in my stomach that I needed to make me go forward. I didn’t know where I was going but I was going somewhere God willing

Alhamdulillah I was able to crash with some of my boys and one of them hooked me up with an interviewed. I smashed it. It was like I didn’t even skip a beat. I was steadfast in getting myself right again.

Half a year of working I was able to save up to rent my own pad. That first feeling of having my own place was some of my best moments as a man. I felt vindicated I was finally seeing all the fruits of my labour. I knew being on my own was what I was supposed to do. I was able to continue saving, and with that I was finally able to get married Alhamdulillah. I don’t care If I sound gay haha but my Wife is my everything. She held me down through bleak times and for that I’ll always cherish her until the last of my days. I thank Allah everyday for her.

Thanking Allah for His Many Blessings is prob my lesson here. I’m thankful for everything, for existing, for being given the tools to repair my health and to start again. You said something a long the lines of sometimes Allah tests you with family and I believe this.

 فَإِنَّ مَعَ الْعُسْرِ يُسْرًا

Verily with every hardship, there is ease.

Till this day my relationship with my mum still needs repairing, I have sabr things will work out. I ask you and the community here to make sincere dua for me. I forgive my mum and without her I wouldn’t be here. I know I will never have bakarah in my life as long as we are not on good terms. I don’t speak to my aunt or my uncle.

Thank you

‘She wasn’t the other woman I was’

Hi Ladan and Lula. More than a Divorcee inspired me and made me want to share a this part of my life that not many people know about. I have been trying to move from it since but the hush-hush of it all has not allowed me to. I want to just vent without it being held against me and you girls have given me the best platform to do it. I don’t want to hold it in anymore.

Thank you sisters May Allah SWT bring more khayr into you girls life and shower you with success. i don’t know you girls but im so proud of how brave you are. Many of us having been waiting for someone like you girls to give us this place to speak our truth. I know right now some girls don’t think they need this but many of us girls who are older do. Jazakallah khair lula and ladan

So here it is. I’ve been divorced for a few years and it’s been turbulent to say the least. Myself and my ex were married for 4 years. The first half was probably the best years of my life and the second was my worst.

How me and my ex Husband first got together is a long story but bare with me. After many years later and a few therapy sessions did I realise I was the second choice. It’s taken me a few months in counselling to recognise this and accept it for what it is. Likewise that I also played a part of this experience and I’m also at fault.

We need to go back 6-7 years ago. I had a best friend who I was completely in love with and no one knew. I think it will be easier if we just call him Ahmed. Me and Ahmed were family friends and he was a few years older than me but he was one of those boys that hung around younger guys at football, so everyone in the friendship group was around a similar age. All I can remember is from when I started to grow up I had feelings towards him. But I was too young for him to check me out. He saw me as the little sister he’d go to for advice about girls as we all hung out in the same place but I just waited for him to see me more than someone who was younger than him.

Ahmed was seeing a girl secretly called Mariam that he had worked with. No one made it public who they were speaking to it was all hush hush. She was very different to what I expected his type to be because Ahmed said he wanted a specific type of woman. Mariam wasn’t exactly modest and used to show baby hairs and Ahmed said he wanted someone who was modest. I was innocent at that age and thought guys were honest about their types. So when I saw Mariam I was taken aback. Even though I didn’t really like her then, seeing her brought on feelings that I’m abit embarrassed to admit. Nothing was wrong with her. Really it would have been easier if astaghfirullah, she was a bitch. In my mind it could’ve help to justify my feelings towards her. But she was kind and friendly and never had anything bad to say about me. She was older than me. I used to speak so ill of her and it was unprovoked. I have repented heavily for this and I know Gheebah (back biting) is haram and I should never talk about another muslim in their absence. She never said anything unkind to me but I said those things anyway. Only because I was jealous that her and Ahmed had been together. I was wrong.

I was going down a dangerous path and my infacuation for Ahmed made me into someone I didn’t even recognise. Her and Ahmed had become unstable for some time and I instead befriended her and planted seeds of doubt in her ear. I used to say stuff like “I Know ahmed he is probably talking to someone else.”

I’m ashamed to admit yes I did cross boundaries for my benefit but I was so young, I didnt know any better. This became too much for her because a lot of people in the friendship group started to get involved in their relationship. When the relationship started to get publiv, Mariam decided to part ways with Ahmed.

I was so happy. I wanted to get this girl away from us and she did. I knew I didn’t want to start something when Ahmed was fresh out of a relationship so I decided to wait the long game.

We continued to be close up until my last year of uni and he was well established into his career and looking for marriage.  Ahmed wasn’t the type to meet girls on his own but rather meet them through opportunity. His family were M’A extremely religious and I heard they were asking families for the daughters. However any girl that he suggested to me I would again plant the seeds of doubt in his ear and I would get in between it. I’d continue to do this until he saw me as his one true match.

After I’d discouraged any girl he suggested, eventually he only saw me and we began talking. He was abit unsure in the beginning if he wanted to move forward with me but I was persistent. Naturally Ahmed was this awkward guy and didn’t have much experience but a girl knew what she wanted. I knew he’d never had a physical relationship with a woman before, so I used this as a way of getting closer to him. I was so desperate for him and shaydan was in my ear.

The relationship became far from halal and we knew we should probably get married. Even though we didn’t commit zina, we deffo crossed a few boundaries. He asked for my hand and his family were happy. When we were engaged sometimes Mariam was brought up as banter in the conversations where we were getting to know eachother. He kept sharing stories of her and me being stupid I thought it was because we were both laughing at her. I realise now he was doing this because he just couldn’t rid this woman from his mind.

We had our wedding and everything was good. Whilst we were married, he brought up Mariam a few times whenever he heard about her through his boys. I still didn’t see the obsession yet until later. We both agreed during our 2 years of marriage we would not have a baby, but I got pregnant and miscarried. It was very hard for me to move on and get over this hardship. Ahmed also didn’t know how to comfort me and often ignored me. We weren’t speaking Ahmed was being very distant with me and always went on his phone. As he was praying I saw his searches and he had been looking at Mariam’s insta profile. I didn’t bring this up to him but when I saw her name I wanted to scream. For so long I wanted to rid this girl from his mind and yet he was still wondering about her. I didn’t want to scream at him because that would have also pushed him away but it continued. So I kept it to myself

I thought after we had heard Mariam was set to be married that it would stop but it kept on going. I became extra paranoid and searched through his phone and laptop whenever I had the chance. One day I noticed emails of him sending her messages reminding Mariam of how much he loved her. How he hated being married and that she was the one for him. I finally broke down and confronted him about the messages. He said how he was stupid and that he would never do it again. I said okay. I’m ashamed to admit I made excuses for him and just wanted the situation to be done. I was grieving since my miscarriage and all I wanted was my Husband back. We were fine for awhile but it didn’t last long at all

When Mariam called off her wedding, Ahmed truly showed his colours to me. He denied me of companionship. There was no sex, anything and everything. He didn’t even want to share the same bed as me. He would make excuses like he fell asleep on the couch. He stopped kissing me. I knew he didn’t want to be with me and that he just wanted me to say it. So I did thinking that would scare him. When I asked for a divorce it was like I did the work for him. he said it three times and that was the last time I saw him

I stayed in the home we lived in for the months after still believing he would get back to me, but he didn’t. He cut all contact with me and changed his number. After the end of our tenancy, I realised Ahmed had no intentions of renewing the lease, so I moved back home. Two months later I tried to contact his Mother but she blocked my phone number. I know now they were trying to get rid of me as much as they could. But I still couldn’t see it, I was fighting for my Husband. I forced my Dad to go to his house to speak to Ahmeds father to talk sense into him I was desperate. That night I will never forget my Father breaking the news to me and said Ahmed was done with me and that this separation was permanent. My heart was broken beyond words could describe. This boy I had wanted since I was 16 years old and when I finally got him, he was gone. It was my lowest point

A year passed by and I still grieved for the loss of my ex husband. I thought he would come back to me as do all things that are meant for you. It took me a long time before I realised that we were divorced and not separated.

18 months onwards from the divorce, him and Mariam got married and I found out on an Instagram bridal page. That day I wanted to end it all. I had come back from home to messages of my friends sending me links to the story showing the wedding. I cry whilst typing this. That moment hurt me sooooo much. All i could see was this other woman had stolen everything dear to me and I cursed her for it. I kept cursing her wishing ill on her and Ahmed. I bawled every day I couldn’t stop thinking about them especially at night. When I was in bed, it made me sick to my stomach thinking about them lying together being husband and wife. Sharing moments that I used to share with him. I was broken

That is my story and two years after he got remarried and I know now I am closer to the recovery stage than ever. For a while Shaydan had taken over my heart and filled it with bitterness and hatred towards him and Mariam. It took me two years of therapy to learn to love myself again and realise now that Mariam was not the other woman, and that it was me. I was the one who hindered their relationship. Me trying to take him from her just made him more drawn to Mariam. I spent our whole marriage turning my eye to him reminiscing of his old life with Mariam and ignored the signs painting it off as banter. What pains me still to this day now is that people speak of them as though they were meant to be and that his ex wife, me, is the one that brought them two together.

This was weighing on me for a long time and I just wanted to be honest for once without having to lie about what happened. You can judge me all but i was a young girl lost in what I know now to be infatuation. My lesson today is to never get involved and stop something meant for someone else because in due time it will be taken from you. Now I spend my life watching from the sidelines whilst Ahmed spends his life with someone else.

I ask kindly for you girls to make dua for me and that I’A the Husband that was written for me finds me.

‘There is happiness at the top of the hill, you just need to get there.‘

I just wanted to say very quickly, Allahumabarik to all that you ladies have achieved in such a short amount of time. Everyday at work someone is talking about the dilemmas at lunch on the sister guide. This is a beautiful thing you both have done here and I thank you both for it. I don’t get the opportunity to share my life with people, or my lessons. For most of us Somali girls we are taught to keep things private and to hide things from one another. Not sure why that is. One thing I have learnt in my life is that you need community. So here is my story.

I think my first day of adulthood truly started for me at 18. In the summer that year my family said It was time to go back home, and back then I was really excited. A lot of our family had lived in Xamar so I was excited to visit back there. Of course we ended up staying there for 4 months and during that time a lot had happened.

There was a family friend who had lived near us, and I had remembered him from the first time I visited Xamar. To cut a long story short, we got very close. He used to send me poems and was never short of giving me all the proclamations of love a girl could want. Needless to say he was really convincing. He used to tell me stuff like ‘I never want to come to England this is my home’. But he had been playing such a smart game. Our relationship crossed a boundary and we had to get married.

When I think about how fast the ceremony went, and how quickly my girlhood passed me by, I want to cry. For some reason I was excited back then. I actually wanted to get married. Not once did I think to just sit back and take a second to really think. I just thought this man loved me and I him. When I look at it now I see him as a tuug (thief). He was stealing my life from me.

Flash forward a few months later, I got sick and had to return to the UK. At this point I still had my period so my family were very sure that I was not pregnant. I had severe sickness and diarrhoea. We were convinced that it was Malaria or some other serious illness. We returned to the UK and whilst at the hospital we quickly learned that I had hyperemesis gravidarum, and was indeed pregnant. Wallah o billlah when I found out my heart sank to my stomach. I was not ready to be a Mum, I was only 18. I tried to convince myself that I was okay, but part of me knew I had ruined my life.

My parents immediately started the plans to bring this man over. But remember I told you he was so firm in his stance about never coming here. To my shock, when my parents told him the news the first thing he said was ‘That’s it then! I have to be there!’. He was so eager but he never mentioned the pregnancy not once.

It still didn’t hit me at first. I thought his excitement came from wanting to be a Father and a Husband to me. I don’t want to implicate myself by explaining how he got here, but by the end of my 2^nd trimester, he was here. My family covered everything. By this point I was burning to see him. My first trimester had been exceptionally harsh to me but what got me through it was thinking of him. How my Husband would protect me and look after me whilst I was sick. Just like I had imagined it. I had even refused to find out the gender until he was here. I was so lonely. Most my friends had turned 19 and at 19 who wants to spend their days hanging around with a baby mum? The loneliness was so cruel to me but my patience and eagerness for him got me through it.

When he came back, he seldom spoke to me. The first thing he did was decide to live with his extended relatives. It didn’t make sense to me but he assured me it was because he wanted to settle in and have his own space. Then days went by, he still had not seen me. 2 weeks after he landed in the UK he came to visit. I was surprised at how he dressed. Not saying that I was expecting a farax (freshy) but this man looked as if he had lived here his whole life. He had a trim, a new phone everything. When we spoke it was very awkward and as if he didn’t want to be there. He only mentioned the baby once after I spoke about finding out the gender. He made a joke about wanting a boy but I didn’t think much of it.

I didn’t see him again for 3 weeks until my next scan. His cousin brought him to the Hospital because he was not familiar with the area. This man had smelt of a wet dog laced with weed and cigar. I was so embarrassed. During the scan we found out the gender and Alhamdulilah it was a Girl. My Husband was so disappointed, he let off a sigh as though he had lost a football match. Afterwards he joked around and said he will try again for a boy. We never tried again btw.

Months passed by and I barely saw this guy again. He did not even attend the labour. Or came to me after I gave birth. I was devastated and suffered so badly from PPD at one point I said I wanted to die. I spent every night nursing a new baby and crying. Everything had finally hit me when I had my baby. Only then did I realise how stupid I was, how naïve. This man used me to come to this country. And I was dumb enough to put his name on the birth certificate, which also helped him during his asylum application. He was barely in our lives and when I turned 20, he had married a 2^nd wife who was a divorcee that had kids of her own. He jokes to people that he is using her to have a roof over her head. I asked for my divorce and he gave it to me in a heartbeat. This man was waiting to get rid of me. I felt so disgusted at how he chewed me up and spat me out.

And then there was me, spending most my early twenties caring for my beautiful daughter. When she was 3, I went back to University to start my degree. The Divorcee stigma stuck with me for a long time. I saw my friends going out, getting spoiled whilst guys barely wanted to talk to me because I had a daughter. Every guy I spoke to ditched me the second they heard I had a daughter. It made me resent my life, and hate myself for making such terrible choices. Until one day all my prayers were answered.

I was finally put on a blind date and I was set up with a another Divorcee. He had been divorced for 2 years and he was a lot older than me. At this point I was 24 and he was 31. At first I was weirded out by the fact he had an ex wife. But who was I to talk? Not only did I have a husband, I had a whole kid. We went out to Tinsel Town for our first date and could you believe that was the only date I had ever been on. We got on so well, he was making me laugh the whole night. And for a moment I forgot what it was like to be just a Mum. I knew the time was coming to tell him I had a daughter and I was dreading it. I felt like he would have dropped me in a second. When I told him the first thing he said was Mashallah and then continued to ask me more about my daughter. And then to my shock he said ‘maybe I will get to meet her one day’.

That was 8 years ago, and we have been married for 6 of those years. I laugh at myself when I think about how defeated I was. I was convinced I would never find love. I would never remarry, and that it would just be me and my daughter. I had given up on life.

 وَيَمْكُرُونَ وَيَمْكُرُ اللَّهُ وَاللَّهُ خَيْرُ الْمَاكِرِينَ

Allah is truly the best of all planners. It is not just us. Its my daughter, him and our beautiful son. When my daughter turned 12, he legally adopted her and signed all the papers. He is her father and he is the best father in the world. We both have such promising careers and we are able to give our children the lives they never had. Finally I have the dream I used to pray for.

I wanted to share this story because I remember how lost I had felt. I had given up on the power dua and I knew there was no happy ending for me. I thought my life was ruined because of the mistakes I made when I was 18. That couldn’t have been further from the truth. I live such a beautiful life Alhamdulillah and I could not be more grateful.

I hope this story brings hope to the women out there who are facing a similar situation. There is happiness at the top of the hill, you just need to get there.

Advice to my Muslim sisters.

I will never forget the day I first met him. We had been texting for a while and I was so excited to meet him, keep in mind this person was on his deen, his family is strictly on the deen too . I was excited and nerve-wrecked, because I never meet or dated other men before I was pure, he was in shook that I have never been with a guy before at my big age 23. But he took advantage of me and he told me I want marriage I trusted him I believed him.

He made me feel great during the time we got to know each other, I thought we were on the same page. But there were little things that concerned me, why he kept postponing for so long to ask my hand in marriage. It should have been clear to me that I needed to break things off, but before we broke up he decided to make things halal, so he came to visit me, and things turned left.

Yes, we hugged, yes, we kissed, I tried to control it and I asked myself even, how is this person on his deen- things didn’t make sense at all, this person was being a hypocrite, living a double lifestyle.

How can he disrespect my parents like that, take out their pure blessing daughter secretly? But according to him, he loved me regardless and wanted marriage, but he wasn’t make the move at all since he was supposed to make it official, I called him one day to talk to him about when he was going to make it official, but he decided to use other things as a excuse. He used religion as an excuse to break things off with me, he decided to say your deen is not on point, are you willing to change for the better muslimah, that’s when things got heated. This person didn’t want marriage, he liked me because I was free, because he could do things with me, he took advantage of me because of my kindness, but he also disrespected me for it.

I don’t blame him, because he got what he wanted, he wanted me not be a pure girl any more, he wanted me to have a past, he wanted him to be my first ex. This person lived a double lifestyle, he barely told anyone about the relationship, he kept it secret. I blame him. He were not the man I thought he was. He used me as a tool for pleasure, but didn’t consider a serious relationship at all.

After i broke up with him, I was wondering: Am I the only one in this situation? I decided to share my story to every Muslimah to really think twice before getting to know someone and make sure he takes a permission from your parents. I found out that there were a lot of girls who were abused the same way. I didn’t feel alone in my pain anymore.

I just wonder, what is the essence of him using the religion? Allah will deal with such a people, and I hope every girl rejects him.

Girls please think twice think twice, and make sure you tell him that your going to tell your parents about him, he will have respect for you. May Allah bless you girls and twitter fam.