The Eternal Quest for Love; Finding God in Self-Love

By Farrah Kabeer

I was a 20-something-year-old single Muslimah in Toronto. I was having a hard time in the dating scene. Not only was I a single Muslim, but I was a bisexual single Muslim woman. I had relationship issues and money issues galore. On top of that, I was a Sufi Muslim Mystic. That meant I had high standards for a romantic partner. I was a lover of God. In order to access me, you had to have access to God. And I could not find many spiritual people in such a materialistic city where everything was a rat race. I searched for the face of God at university dorm room parties. Like the mystic poet Rumi, I searched for God and my lover in vain in a cup of wine. And I did not find it. What I did not realize was that the search for a Lover was really a search for the ultimate Lover, God.

PART 1: THE EXPLORATION

I dated around; had my heart broken by men and women. With these decisions I made in the search of love came the shame and sin; the fear that “God hates me for being bisexual, God hates me for having and enjoying sex”. This was all topped with the pressures of being a 20-something Muslim surrounded by the accomplishments and milestones of my more traditional, heterosexual Muslim friends. They were getting engaged, buying houses, and graduating meanwhile I was still juggling my mental health with my degree and my heartbreaks. I was stumbling as I tried to navigate a fastpaced city where people struggled to care about anything but themselves and about making ends meet. During this period of turmoil, I sought solace in my community circles and friends. Though the struggle of connection was felt by the majority of the LGBT community, it was felt at varying degrees. Lesbians seemed to be having the best time as many of them were settling down. All the while gay Muslim men were struggling with Grinder and bisexual folks seemed to be getting the short end of both straws. As a bisexual woman, being rejected by lesbians became a repeated occurrence because I dated men. So, I was ostracized by the lesbian community. However, gay men welcomed me into their communities because we bonded over being outcasts to the rest of heterosexual society. But these men weren’t Muslim, with most belonging to non-POC communities. I got proposed to twice from ages 15 to 26, both ending with pain and heartbreak because of my parents’ objections. It was at this point, after years of feeling lost and hurt, that I realized I needed to focus on myself and work on my own well-being in therapy.

PART 2: THE REALIZATION

I was still struggling with the internalized feelings of shame and guilt for being a bisexual Muslim who enjoyed sex, almost exclusively in ways I was taught to avoid. I enjoyed sex before marriage. I enjoyed sex, period. I am a sexual assault survivor and good healthy sex felt healing and therapeutic. And I certainly wasn’t going to believe my father’s constant reminders that God would supposedly hate me for that. It is through this pain that I eventually turned to Sufism for solace and a better understanding of the love of God.

The mystic Sufi poet Rumi brought me great comfort in reflections on my own struggles navigating loneliness:

“Do not feel lonely, the entire universe is inside you.”

– Mevlana Jellaluddin Rumi; Sufi Master and Sheikh of the Mevlevi Sufi order

I can’t describe the pain I felt after two relationships crumbled before me because my uber Muslim parents disproved of the men I was interested in. They found issues with their culture, sexual orientation, and, on top of it all, my own expressions of sexuality.

Through the pain, I dove deep into Sufism in hopes that I would understand how the universe was working around me. Through this, realized the love of God was always there with me.

PART 3:

“Don’t be satisfied with stories, how things have "gone with others. Unfold your own myth.”

– Mevlana Jellaluddin Rumi

As a bisexual BIPOC Muslimah, all I had to share was stories of heartbreak and rejection— societal and parental—for the love I shared with other people. I was tired of telling the same stories of pain. I wanted a new life and a new hope. A life that did not contain heartbreak, but rather contained empowerment, love, beauty, and the hope of Rejection being God’s protection. These people whom I had given so much love to had become victims of the plethora of failed relationships I had suffered. No matter how much love and understanding we exchanged, I had to come to the realization that they were not the right people for me. My grandma always said, “Rejection is God’s protection”. What abandoned me was never mine. And what is mine will never abandon me.

PART 4: THE DISCOVERY OF SELF-LOVE

"You are not a drop in the ocean. You are the entire ocean, in a drop.”

“If the foot of the trees were not tied to the earth, they would be pursuing me. For I have blossomed so much, I am the envy of the gardens.”

“Stop acting so small. You are the universe in ecstatic motion.”

– Mevlana Jelaluddin Rumi

Now single and 26, full of heartbreak and pain, with most of my friends in committed relationships, I had to rely wholeheartedly on God in the quest to find love, both self-love and romantic love, because finding true love was impossible without having self-love first; A painful lesson I realized too late. So, therefore, the quest to find self-love had to take priority now.

I seriously had to pause and take a good, hard look at my soul. I had been through trauma as a queer Muslimah. I had also been a survivor of sexual assault. I had gone to therapy and gained a semblance of control over my life and thoughts. But …why? Did I truly love myself?

It seemed for most of my early 20s, I had used relationships to fill a void in my soul, a gaping empty void that reached out with open arms to anyone who cared and said, “Please be my soulmate and make me complete”. Make me Whole. Make me complete. I had to realize that it was my own love and companionship that I was seeking all along. I was seeking union with myself, I was seeking to complete myself, and realized that I already am a whole, complete person. I am who I am. I am me. Farrah. My grandpa gave me my name because it means Joy in Arabic. And I wished to be joy, to bring light where there was darkness.

And, up until that point, it was Joy that alluded me in life.

So, I went back to the drawing board of the quest to find love. I was a hopeless romantic at heart. Though I still believed in soulmates and hope to find mine, I took solace this time in God’s promise in the Quran:

“And among His Signs is this, that He created for you mates from among yourselves, that ye may dwell in tranquillity with them, and He has put love and mercy between your (hearts): verily in that are Signs for those who reflect.”

Quran, 30:21

I AM a Muslim. After a lifetime of heartbreak, Faith was the one thing I could not afford to lose. Yes, I was jaded because of all the painful experiences I endured, but that wasn't the end for me. I enrolled in twice-weekly therapy and started seeing a psychiatrist, exercising, working out, reading spiritual books, and delving deeper and deeper into the love of God. I started taking care of myself, prioritizing myself, and giving the love I wanted to give to others to myself. The love of God that I got in return was like a sweet breeze that soothed my broken heart. The love of God was like a voice deep within me that kept saying:

“What you seek is seeking you”– Rumi

I had to have faith in God, and in myself, that despite the oddsbeing against me, despite living in a city that was harsh, competitive, and isolating God still had a greater plan for me, God still had a greater romance for me. God still had a better life for me than I could dream of. And yes, I dared to believe that could be a loving partner.

PART 5: THE PRACTICE OF SELF-LOVE Now I had was preparing to face the present. I was back on the streets of Toronto (Socially distanced of course), and on the apps, interacting with people, getting to know them, meeting the friends of my friends, trying to reconcile old, failed situations, and making amends to people I may have wronged.

I spent many sleepless nights crying about love and the state of the world, about if I would ever find that special someone. The trauma of abandonment espoused in me by my parents’ lack of support reinforced the fear that would I ever find someone and be able to keep them? I realized the answer was simply that I had to stop abandoning myself and be present for myself. I had to do what made me happy without societal or religious judgement or shaming and embrace the Pure Unconditional Love of God as a Sufi in order to find that special someone. So, I am still on that journey, as are many young Muslims. I am not alone in this. But if you are one such young Muslim searching for love, I urge you to realize that you are truly just looking to find yourself in that special someone. It’s not about them. It’s about how they make you feel. And feeling peaceful and tranquil (as the verse says) is what we should seek in our mates.

“Go find yourself first so you can also find me.”― Rumi

If you are plagued by the qualms of dating in Toronto while feeling like you are surrounded by love and committed relationships, I leave you once again with the noble words of Rumi;