This is an incredible essay. That apostasy remains a capital offense in many predominately Muslim countries in the 21st Century is difficult to wrap one's head around. What courage it must take! And my compliments on the name choice.

I find it very difficult to imagine a community that I have more respect for than the ex muslim community. There might be communities I have just as much respect for, but more respect, no

I'm ex-christian (or just atheist/non-religious) but this is fascinating. I remember that there was a women's and girls only afternoon each week at the pool though... So many women who weren't swimming otherwise would come out during that period because they didn't need to be covered so drastically in front of other women.

Thank you for this post Douglass. Being a big fan of yours I continue to learn conclude ideas and constantly be amazed that in current year, when Islam isn’t yet regarded as the biggest lie, riddled with deception, proven time and time to be complete dehumanising garbage. And for some baffling reason given credence. Is loved more by SJWs than legal genuine tax paying American citizens. Which try to deny are the backbone iof America is to deny veins take blood away from the heart.

When my family returned to Australia, I had begun to have serious doubts about Islam as a way of life. On one hand, I was being told that Islam gave women all these rights but on the other, I was being deprived my rights. I read through all of the Islamic texts I could get my hands on The Quran, Tafsir ibn Kathir, Bulugh Al Maram, Sahih Bukhari and Muslim, Riyadh us Saliheen. I began to study Aqeedah (Islamic Creed) and Fiqh ( Islamic Jurisprudence) to find ways around my parents’ control. But all I could find were justifications. As a daughter I had no power. I was my parent’s property until I was my husband’s.

I never had this deep connection to Islam or this fear of Allah. I just obeyed my parents and acted the good Muslimah out of fear of them and their fists. I thought my only way out of this environment was to get married.

So I was going to find the most nonpracticing Muslim guy out there. Now they do exist but none were lining up to marry the fifteen year old niqabi daughter of the local sheikh.

I had almost given up until tragedy struck my family. A terrible accident resulted in the death of my youngest sister and I remember holding her body and realising how easily life could be over. Then and there I made a promise that I was not going to give up, that I was going to be free.

Fast forward a few years and my relationship with my family had become very fractured. I still wore the niqab, prayed and did everything they wanted but I would fight them on the smallest things like going to the library or visiting friends. Finally at 19 after one particularly brutal encounter with my parents, as I lay cowering on the floor I realised I had had enough. This fight was going to be the last because I was so tired of the fighting, the struggle to constantly hide what I was thinking and feeling, who I really was. I pulled every last bit of courage I had left in me and I ran out of the door in front of them.

I had no idea where I was going, how I was going to survive or where I was going to even sleep that night but in those moments I didn’t care. I had survived everything life had thrown at me, I was going to survive this.

And I did.

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