LOL, Sis.

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My story:

My name is A'ishah but I was born with the name Bonnie Khadija. When I was 2 years old, my non-practicing Moroccan Muslim father, and my American Christian mother got a divorce and my mom tricked my father into her getting custody of me and took me away.

A few years later my dad began practicing and married his cousin, a woman named Nadia, who then became my stepmother. Nadia treated me better than my own mother, and looked at me as her real daughter. Even when she had my sister, Fatima, she thought of us as equally her children and became like a second mother to me.

As I got older, I went to see my dad for a few weeks every year but never really let his lifestyle sink in. My mom was very liberal and encouraged me to do things that I shouldn't have, to have fun and drink and date and dress scantily and so on and so forth. She put me on a lot of medicine and I began to get very depressed. At 12 I converted to Islam. I really did believe in it and I was hoping I would be able to stay and live with my father. My mother had other plans and threatened to have my grandmother and stepmother deported if I didn't come back so I returned and lost my religion. At 13- 14 I went and stayed with my dad for about 2 months. When I came back, I wore hijab and prayed and my mom promised to let me wear it.
The promise was short lived and she told me to take it off a few days after I was home. I said no, she hit me.
She wouldn't let me go out of the house with it on.
I didn't like all the yelling and fighting and I was still a pretty weak person when it came to my mom so I took off my scarf. After some time, I started wearing it by taking it to school with me and putting it on but I knew it wouldn't work because then at night I would have to go without it.

Eventually I took it off and succeeded to my mother's wishes. I started drinking and doing drugs, and smoking. I made some bad friends. I was extremely unhappy and was cutting myself and attempting suicide. She was trying to get me to date someone.

I didn't believe in it but developed a plan to get her to leave me alone. The person she wanted me to date was a bad person who I really didn't like too much, even as a friend. I told her we were dating and made sure to leave my journals and blogs open around her with entries about how we did drugs and how he hit me (which he did) and so on and so forth.

She seemed pretty unconcerned.

I regret to admit that I used someone to get back at my mom and that said person was unaware of them being used.

Eventually after several attempts at taking my life, I was put into a teenage dual diagnosis unit. I stayed their for several months and began to get better without the bad influences on my life. My mom would visit me everyday and bring me dinner, and I loved her, I still do, but I think the distance helped.

I did stay in touch with two people during my stay, two friends who had always been good and had always tried to help me and keep me from doing the bad stuff I was doing. Unfortunately, somehow the person who I mentioned earlier called and notified me that throughout our entire relationship ( as he did think there actually was one ) he was seeing another girl. My ego was bruised as I was expecting to be the manipulative one and the game was reversed but it didn't matter in the sense that he expected it to. Apparently I wasn't fast enough for someone so into drugs and alcohol.

I always found this funny as the person was completely aware that I was Muslim and thought he was complete pond scum and disliked to be within a 1/4 of a mile of him and didn't even believe in dating or anything that accompanied it.

My mother decided I had been abusive to her. We had gotten in to physical fights before, but I always was just defending myself. For example: Once. she dragged me down the stairs by my hair, pushed me over the side into the bathub, closed the sliding glass door, and turned on the cold water. I started to throw up and she replied that anyone could make themself throw up. During this struggle I was grabbing at her and I had very long nails and she was scratched by me. She called the entire family and told them about how I attacked her.

Another incident took place in a fight where she was punching me in the face whilst she was holding her car key, she had my hands so I couldn't grab hers...instead I did what I could do and bit her.

Again, the entire family was alerted to my attacking her.

She drove me to a medical hospital where they threatened to restrain me if I refused to remove my clothes and be searched and change into a gown.

I complied and they took me back to the unit for one night.

Because they had no reason to keep me there I was released the next day.

Anyway. Because she had decided that I was abusive she didn't want to take me back and was looking on information for group homes. I called my father and asked him to take me in and he said he would talk to my mom.

Eventually she did take me out and my father and stepmom came to visit me. I cried for a long time when they left and said I wanted to go with them but my mom said I couldn't be trusted yet.

2 months later after completing a partial program I packed my things and moved to Florida to live with my father.

I was soon informed that my mother had given my father all the information for my blogs and he read them and 'knew everything'.

Imagine my surprise that the tables had been reversed at I had been beaten at my own game. My plan had backfired and all those entries made simply for my mom's viewing pleasure was now thought of as reality by my strict Muslim dad.

At first, things were rocky, my dad and I fought constantly and three times, I was set to go back to my mom where I would be put into a house for troubled girls. The Imam at our masjid who was a close friend of my dad told him if he sent me back that I would lose my Islam forever. He made an honest plea for my staying and after a talk with my stepmother, I went to my dad and apologized and asked him to let me stay. I was able to.

Now, I am 15 and I have been here about four months and have greatly improved. My mother had me on about 10 kinds of different medication, now I am only on one medication which I may be off of in December.

A few things happened to help me get better.

- When I was removed from my medicine.
- I had a very weird experience. I had night terrors and would take medicine for them but ran out. During my sleep I would cry, scream, and kick around. I would wake up with injuries I didn't have before. I didn't have good dreams, only bad. And they were continuous, like a chain. When it got very bad I went to sleep in my grandmother's room. It was a weird experience to be awake during my attacks. I screamed, I couldn't breathe, I would thrash around and scratch my face, and pull my hair, I tried to get up but I couldn't.
My dad, stepmother, and grandmother held me down and recited Surah Baqarah, Ayat-Al Kursi, and aouthu bilahi minashaytani rragim.

They made dua for me. After a few nights of this there came one that was especially bad, my father helped hold me down and they all recited Qur'an for a long time. After that incident, I never had problems again with that.

I started behaving, I am homeschooled and have straight As.
I am learning how to cook and started helping to clean.
I am having an Aqeeqah after ramadan I'A.

I am getting a legal name change to A'ishah, after the Prophet's saws wife because I have always admired and identified with her. And also because A'ishah means Life, which I think is the perfect name for me after what I went through.

I go to the masjid with my dad and help him with religious stuff, and my father, stepmother, and I have become close.

When he does things or goes out, he brings me to help him, and on his days off takes me to do things, like get a go to the bookstore, read and get a cup of coffee at the cafe. Have lunch together at Panera. Go shopping.

Now, I am learning the necessary things for a Moroccan woman to know and my dad and stepmom are going to help me find a husband so I can marry young.

I still talk to my mom but we aren't as close as we once were. She has pretty much washed her hands of me and I, I have moved on.

I thank Allah everyday that I am better and that I managed not to lose myself completely and do something I would have really regretted now.

Subhan'Allah Subhan'Allah.

Alhamdulilah.