Asalaamu Alaikum everyone,

Wow, this thread has 7 pages. Hope someone actually reads this. I actually wrote it a while ago.


I am still relatively new to Islam, so forgive me If I sound naiive or inexperienced regarding the subject. Writing this has helped me come to terms with the changes in my life. It is the story of my stumbling in the dark before I discovered the true light of Islam. Read on if interested.
I was born May 26th, 1985 in a small, culturally homogenous town in Upstate NY. Growing up I was the shy little blonde-haired blue-eyed girl that everyone adored. I always got what I wanted. My parents loved me. I was surrounded by friends. I was happy. I guess you could say I had the perfect American life. However, around the end of 8th grade, the storm clouds started rolling in.
Then came the rain. Slowly at first, then in a downpour. I became increasingly depressed, withdrawn, and plagued by extreme anxiety. I was losing my friends, gaining weight, and constantly fighting with my parents. No longer did i wish to leave the house, or talk to anyone, as these problems intensified my already high tendencies toward shyness.. All these things going wrong made me hate myself, with a passion.
"Why is this happening to me?" Screamed a thunderous voice in my head. "I'm supposed to be having the perfect life, just like everyone else! I should be out shopping in a mall surrounded by friends in a belly shirt and low-rise designer jeans! But instead im just sitting on my ass in my room, getting fatter and fatter and hating myself. What the heck is wrong with me?!"
It came to the point that I did not want to live anymore. So why not just take my own life? This life is worthless anyway. Sadly, this logic made perfect sense at the time. However, I was lucky enough to have people around me who were concerned enough to get me help. I was involuntarily committed to 4 different psychiatric hostpitals over a period of two years. I was on 6 different medications. Anti-psychotics, anti-depressants, you name it, I probably took it. However, with what little strength and hope I had left, I made one last desperate attempt to heal myself.
Unable to find comfort in anything during this dark hour, I felt that the only solice I could find was in God. "Hey, maybe this is the chance for Him to prove to ME that He does exsist! I thought with new found excitement. "Maybe he can cure me!" I intended to find him, but unfortunately, being the naive teenager I was, I made the costly mistake of assuming that " finding God" and "finding the church" were the same thing.
I came from a family that was Catholic (I myself was originally baptized Roman Catholic) but had stopped going to church. I'm not exactly sure why. As a result, none of us kids grew up with even a basic understanding of who exactly God was. Nonetheless, my father was happy to take me to worship at St. Marys church, a rather square looking building a few blocks away from my house.
Now, I don't really think its right to launch into a rant on Catholicism and Christianity in general, so let me sum up those three months of spending Sundays in church. They didnt help me one bit. I didn't feel any closer to God. I didn't understand or agree with a lot of the church doctrine, and ended up very confused about God and religion.
"Why has God done such horrible things to me?" I wondered, disallusioned and perplexed. "I have always been a good person, and I come from a good family. Numerous people have told me that I am talented and smart. So WHAT DID I DO TO DESERVE THIS?!" Still in the grips of severe clinical depression, I was faced with two choices. 1: Believe in a God who hates me, and by whom I am confounded. Or 2: Reject God all together. Sadly, I chose the latter.
In the 10th grade, I slowly pulled out of my depression. (al-hamdullah) Things seemed to be getting better. I returned to school, made some friends, and even lost some weight. I accelled in my academic endeavors, and graduated in the top 15% of my class. And as for this "God" guy, I truly had come to believe that ignorance was bliss.
However, my happiness was superficial, to say the least. Something still wasn't quite right. Something I couldnt put my finger on. I felt full on the outside, but suprisingly empty on the inside. I still had trouble likeing myself, and was still haunted by thoughts of suicide. I had no idea about my life's direction, nor its purpose. So what did I do? I attempted to fill the void with material things. But the cheap happiness I got from expensive clothes, jewlery, and other fineries was but a poor substitute for what I really needed.
What I needed was God, and bad! But of course, I was blind to this. I didnt really come to view religion with any sort of contempt, but over my almost 3 years as an athiest/agnostic, I firmly believed in the old communist line "religion is the opium of the masses."As far as I was concerned, all religions were equal. Christianity, Islam, Judaism, Hinduism, Buddhism.... they were all man-made, cult-like, and only served to cloud and misguide the mind. Sure they made you feel nice. But isnt it better to have your mind free to think for itself and discover your real purpose in life, rather becoming a zombie and a slave to religion? I wasnt about to spend my life in this disallusioned state.
How Ignorant I was! If I had only known then what I know now, I probably wouldnt be writing this extensive essay. Of course I had learned about Islam in school, along with all the other major world religions. In fact, I still remembered some of its "pillars" from 9th grade history. But I had viewed it only objectively and academically, not really giving it a second thought. Then, 9/11. I had never heard of such crazy people in my life! Osama bin Laden, the Taliban, Al-Qaeda! What in the world were these whackos doing?! I didnt associate them with Islam, as I logically figured that they were messed up, since the killing of innocent people isnt condoned by any religion.

My path to change started in August 2004, while I was attending college in Buffalo NY, a much larger and ethnically diverse city compared to the little white-washed village where I grew up.By this time, I was more mature, as well as confident in myself. I hated the college scene. The parties, the drugs, the scantilly clad women. By this time, I was more mature, as well as confident in myself. I had become friends with a muslim who understood my plight. I confided in her that I was looking to be in a serious relationship with a good man. So, she introduced me to one of her Muslim friends. We talked over the phone for about a month, before finally meeting and taking the vow of marriage.
From the moment *name witheld* and I met eachother, we have been practically inseperable. Its like we were meant to be together. Staying around him 24/7, I immediately noticed the immense peace devotion to Allah had given him. I'll admit that I have always been intrigued by the Muslim culture and way of life, but never really cared to learn about Islam itself. I asked him a lot of questions on the subject, which he was more than happy to answer. I still was unsure about God's exsistance, but listened with an open mind. I kept him awake late asking him questions about God and Islam, as if I was some little kid asking my mother questions about why the sky is blue and why the grass is green. I would go to bed feeling warm and happy. The more I learned, the more I wanted to know. So I started doing some research on my own.
When I read the first article on Islam, I felt totally blown away, as If I had gotten hit by a frieght train. All of the sudden, everything about God, the universe, and life made perfect sense to me. I was struck by how incredible simple yet deeply profound the religion was. I have always been a thinking person and here, for the first time, was something that was logical and flawless in its reasoning. It lead me to believe that God (Allah) really does exsist. Islam really was the true religion!!! I couldn't believe it. From then on, I read non-stop.Sometimes being up till 4am and forgetting to do my homework (oops!). I had never been so obsessed with anything in my life. But I did not make the decision to convert until one night, where I came to this startling revelation.
In the past I had expressed anger, even hatred. toward God. I constantly was asking why He had made me suffer so much. I now realized I had suffered simply because He had willed it. But I also realized that He had willed something else, something that was perhaps a million times more important. He had brought me out of the dark and willed me to the right path, the path of Islam!
After coming to this epiphany at the odd hour of 2am, I immediately woke my husband up and told him I wanted to convert. Of course he was thrilled, but since the poor man was half asleep, he told me to wait till the next day. And on that day, November 15th, 2004, I was born again. After saying the shehadda with the utmost belief and conviction, I broke down crying in my husband's arms. I was Muslim! I couldn't believe I was Muslim! I have never been more proud of myself.
Now, more than a year later, I couldn't be happier. In submission to Allah, I have found the inner peace I have always longed for.

To all who have read this, thank you.

Ive come so far, but still have a ways to go.

Ma'salaama,

Emily