*Additional collaboration with Kaylee Compton.Â
Being a girl and growing up in a modern yet moderately conservative Muslim household makes the chances of learning about your body, boys, sex, or relationships slim to none. So what happens when you want to explore and become sexually active while young and unmarried? You lie. You tell lots and lots of lies. Because if your parents knew you were talking to a boy, let alone being sexually active with them, your life would come to an abrupt end.
Growing up, I was never explicitly told that dating was prohibited, but I learned from my older sister’s trials and tribulations. I remember being maybe ten years old when my family gathered to talk about the boy my sister was secretly seeing. I don’t know exactly what was said or what the consequences were, but afterwards my father and sister didn’t speak for weeks. From that moment on, it was clear that allowing boys into my life, with or without my parents’ knowledge, would only ever put a strain on my relationships with them. Dating and my family were like water and oil—the two would never mix.
Now don’t get me wrong, my parents love me and have always expressed how I’m entitled to all the wonders of life. But boys and relationships are completely foreign ideas to them. They’re certainly not unaware of the existence of relationships before marriage, they just suffer from the classic case of holding onto traditions in hopes of staying connected to their lives before migrating to America. I understand my parents’ nostalgia for the familiar and traditional, but no matter how hard they try to implement Middle Eastern cultural traditions in my siblings and me, we always crave what they’ve never allowed. Throughout my childhood, I was constantly conflicted with what specifically constituted a sin. Islam teaches that drinking alcohol is a serious sin, but I’d look to my dad enjoying a glass of wine with every dinner. My mother practices Islam and prays five times a day, but I’ve never seen my father kneel in prayer. My sister was ostracized for having a boyfriend but when my brother brought home girl after girl, my parents didn’t bat an eye. I started to wonder why it was okay for my father and brother to go against Muslim traditions, but my mother and sister had to be strictly traditional to receive respect and not be looked down upon. And if it is OK for one gender to commit a sin but not the other—does sin even matter?
Going into high school, I realized that my new environment normalized everything that my parents considered to be a sin, and I found myself living in a dual world. Since I was always questioning my beliefs, I had to rely on my own moral compass as a guide through my teenage years. Although I love and respect my parents, I don’t agree with them on most of the things they consider sin. For that reason alone, it’s been so easy for me to “lie” to them about my life. Sex, for instance. I do not want to wait until I am married! Or however old you need to be to experience a damn orgasm. No, thank you. I have desires. I have needs. I want to cum and I want to cum now!
I respect my parents and their values, but at some point, I have to live my life and not theirs. So, yes—for now—I have to lie to them. I have to tell them I’m with Michelle when I’m really with Michael. I have to tell them I’m at the mall when really I’m screaming for more from my secret lover in the back of my parked car.
Maybe it’s not exactly “right” for me to lie to my parents. But I also don’t see the good in a teenager fearing for her life if ever caught hanging out with a boy. I’d love to have the luxury of being honest and talking to them about my interests, but I’ve seen how that went for my sister. I just want to experience lust in my youth to the fullest. I don’t want to rush home without a kiss goodnight because my parents might be onto me. I want late, uninterrupted nights with a boy in a hot tub. I want relationships without guilt.
There’s nothing more frustrating than someone telling you who you can love and when you’re finally allowed to love them. My parents’ control over my life feels like a complete breach of personal privacy. How are Middle Eastern Muslim girls ever supposed to learn about sex, boys, love, our bodies, etc. if we continue to treat them like taboo subjects in our culture?
I don’t like lying to my parents—but I don’t feel that bad about it.
They’re the ones responsible for building this home into one where I’m afraid to tell them the truth, where I have to discover myself and my sexuality in secret with no guidance. I hope something will change or that I’ll find the strength to confront them about all of it. But until then, I’ll continue to lie about where I am and who I’m with—how else am I supposed to get any?