My journey to Islam

 I was raised a Roman Catholic. My dad wasn’t really into religion, my mum wasn’t much either but it was important for her that we were Catholic. (I’m part Irish & religion is important for the Irish) 

I went to a Catholic school, and from my earliest memories I always fully believed in God. I believed in the trinity but never looked into it closely with a magnifying glass. 

When I was 8, my mother, brother & I moved in with my great-grandmother (mums mums mum) & she was an extremely devout Catholic. She would go to the church 5x per week, raised orphans and would take care of disabled people. A great woman. 

She would drag myself & my brother to the church on the weekends. It was always just full of old people & I’d always fall asleep. The only good thing about it was the etiquette & respect of a place of worship. 

At this point (late 90’s) I didn’t even know what Muslims were. I remember my mum driving past an Islamic school for girls & I asked her where did all these nuns come from? 

I went to a high school that had many Muslims there (around 30%) which is when I started learning bits from them but I had no real interest at that point. I was more focused on trying to get a girlfriend & having a laugh. 

A couple of years went by (no girlfriends surfaced) & the majority of my friends happened to be Muslims. I noticed camaraderie between the Muslims (more so the guys) whether they be Gujarati, iraqi, Bangladeshi etc. I liked that. 

From the age of 14, I used to read the bible daily. I loved the stories & always felt an affinity with the Old Testament. The New Testament seemed contradictory at times & I suppose this started to niggle at me slightly. 

At around this time, out of the blue, my older brother converted to Islam (he was 18). I was shocked, I was angry. He had betrayed us. I decided I’d revert him back to Christianity but it became apparent he had done his homework. 

I had absolutely no idea the religions were so similar, with all the same prophets & stories, with the same message, the same God. I had always thought it was some strange pakistani religion similar to Hinduism. 

The next 2 years were a time of studying, learning, reading about the abrahamic faiths. My brother & I would debate whenever he was back home from uni. As I learned more about Islam I would start noticing mistakes in the bible. 

Why did God rest on the seventh day? Why does God say he will turn Ishmaels descendants into a great nation? Why is Isaac the ‘only son’ that Abraham had to sacrifice when Ishmael was alive? Why did women of the past wear hijab? Why did Jesus pray to God? 

Why did Christians not follow the laws of Moses? Why was it only old people at the churches? Why were all my white friends athiest? Why was I praying to Mary? Why was the fasting of Christians limited to giving up chocolate fr lent? Why was prayer just for whenever we wanted? 

I fought against these thoughts in my head, I was watching Islamic lectures. I was trying to apply some of them onto Christianity. I tried fasting like Muslims, I would go to church hoping for God to put a spark of contentment in my heart. The thoughts just got stronger. 

I was 17 at this point & was unsure about which path to take. I went into sujood fighting back tears & I just spoke to God, (not verbatim), “Look, I’m not sure what to do here, you need to guide me because Islam seems to be making sense, it’s in your hands.” 

A few days after this I recall waking up one morning & I just knew. I’d had an epiphany. I had to become a Muslim. I wasn’t happy about it. Truth be told I was pissed off. I knew how hard it would be. 

I didn’t tell anyone at first, I wanted to see if this was just a phase. The Muslim guys in school seemed to have a 6th sense about what I was going through & were suddenly saying that they think I’d make a good Muslim. Was this God, or rather Allah sending me more signs. 

I told my brother eventually & a few close friends at school. Everyone was ecstatic & made me feel very welcome. The next part was difficult though. I had to tell my parents. 

My brother had struggled telling them, hiding it for 2 years but I couldn’t do that so I told them before I took the shahada. They weren’t happy, my dad was upset that we couldn’t go for a pint on my 18th birthday, an english tradition. Our relationship soured after this. 

My mum had no choice just to deal with it really & to be fair to her she did. So still 17, I took my shahada. I’d love to say it was all sunshine & rainbows since then but the shahada is only the start of a converts journey. 

I was introduced to the imam of my local masjid (5 minute walk from my house alhamdulilah) & what a man! He would invite me to his house every week for amazing Guji food & would teach me Arabic, Quran & fiqh. 

It took me weeks to learn how to pronounce letters such as غ & ق. Us English people just don’t use that part of our vocal chords 😅 

I had been so focused on my religion for the past few years that I had totally neglected my school studies & left college with some pretty awful grades. So I just got a job working nights at a supermarket. 

My brother got married & all was seeming quite nice, my family were accepting of Islam & my dad had even started talking to me again. That was until my brothers in laws were all suddenly charged with t*rror*sm. He was away at uni & I bore the brunt of all the resentment. 

I was issued an ultimatum, to choose between my family & home or my ‘evil religion’. Without a moments hesitation I chose my religion. My mum was furious, she told my dad what I had said & wanted me out of the house. 

I stormed out, unsure of where to actually go but my stepdad caught up with me & told me just to go up to my bedroom (he knew I had done nothing wrong at all). So I didn’t leave my room for 5 days unless it was to go bathroom. 

My mum sheepishly apologised to me during this time & I could empathise with her. She just lost control of her senses & rightly so, I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. My dad on the other hand...we didn’t speak for 8 months after that. 

Things got back to normal for me, I decided that I should try to get married & start a family as I wasn’t doing any further education. Fast forward to present day & I have been married 9 years & I have 2 children alhamdulilah. 

My dad absolutely loves my children & we have a great relationship now. My parents aren’t religious but my main goal in life now is to give dawah to them in anyway I can. 

I’m not sure if there’s a moral to this or if it’s just a nice story of me finding Islam. All I can say is that for those of us who spend time amongst non muslims, be the best person you can be because you represent this lovely religion.