Survival mode 🕹

Hello my loves!!! Let me start off by saying Ramadan Queereem to all of my LGBTQIA+ Muslims out there! I’m hoping that everyone is having a safe, healthy and blessed month especially with the current Covid-19 pandemic! Remember to be cautious at all times and wash your hands frequently!

I also wanted to say that today is my 1 year Anniversary for this blog and I am extremely grateful for all of you who have supported me throughout this amazing journey! I promise you I could’ve never done this without your support! Y’all helped me in my healing process and I’m forever grateful to call you my family!! ❤️

If you haven’t read my last couple of blogs then you wouldn’t be fully caught up with today’s blog, so make sure you go ahead and do that first!! So it was finally summer and school had closed. I was so excited to have my first summer where I could actually have fun with the amazing friends that I had made in Mogadishu! The summer prior to that was a very lonely, sad, angry, and emotional summer so I wanted to make the best out of this one. A week into summer break and I get a call from my family letting me know that my cousin (Fartun) and my aunt (Hawo) are in town for medical reasons and that I should go visit. I remember after I got stranded my other aunt (Sahro) who had stranded me gave this cousin my number so she could “get to know me”. I told Aunty Sahro that I wasn’t interested because I was only 16 and that she’s also my first cousin, but it was also mainly because I’m gay. She didn’t say anything and she let it go and it was all forgotten about. The next day I went to go visit them and it was pretty normal and nothing weird happened that day. A few days later my family calls again and somehow convinced me to go to a different city where my grandmother was (also where Aunt and Cousin are from) at for summer break. I got on the flight 2 days later and got there very safe Alhamdulilah. It was one of the worst plane rides I’ve ever been on. It seemed like the plane was going to collapse for that whole 1 hour flight! I was there for about 45 days and so far I’m loving it! I got to experience many different things culturally, intellectually, and I got to live the nomad life for about a week or two which was surprisingly a very peaceful journey! InshaAllah I’ll save that story for another blog though!

I had only 5 days left till my flight back to Mogadishu and I was pretty excited to go back! The next day we get a call informing us that my aunt who was with my cousin had passed away from a procedure that she had May her soul rest at peace. It was sad to hear but we weren’t close so it didn’t have a great affect on me. The next day I only have 2 more day till I’m on my flight and I started to get my luggage prepared so I wouldn’t have to do last minute things when I’m leaving because I tend to do that a lot lol. Around 10am I had 2 of my cousins knock on my door and tell me that their dad (my uncle) needs me. They are siblings with my cousin in who went to Mogadishu with the deceased aunt. I really didn’t think much of it since it was going to be the first time I’m seeing him! I assumed that he just wanted to see his nephew but that was not the case whatsoever. As soon as I got there he didn’t even give me a proper Salam he just got straight to lecturing. My Somali at the time was a little better when I first got to Somalia but it was still trash. He used words that I never even knew existed. I finally started to understand him when he started talking about marriage but I was still a little confused lol. Then he asked me if I was ready but I didn’t know what for. I asked him what was I supposed to get ready for? He then said “ You’re aunt already sent the money for the Nikkah (Wedding Ceremony) and the Food and Beverages. Your Nikkah is tomorrow. Fartun will make a wonderful wife.”. I was lost for words and I really didn’t know what to say. I told him that I’ll go call my aunt Sahro and see what your talking about. As my heart pounds faster every step I take I run to my grandma. I ask her if she knows what my uncle is talking about. She starts going off and agrees that I’m still young to “get married” so we call my aunt. She picks up the phone and start to feel very triggered and emotional from all of the pain she put me through. I let my grandma do the talking. She said that she wants Fartun to go to school and have a better life in Mogadishu instead of having her go back. I started to realize that I’ve been getting played since day 1. It now started to hit me that the whole reason why my family sent me on this summer trip to this other city wasn’t so I could have a “good” summer break with my grandma, it was because they were trying to “convert” me to a heterosexual. So after a little brainstorming I decided to play this game too! I had to turn on that Survival mode switch and play the game right because honey they were winning! I know that if I had refused this marriage that they would still have their suspicions of my Gayness but if I play along and act straight for awhile that I could actually convince them otherwise. I didn’t want to be stuck in a country where my life is always on the line so I decided to thug it out and outsmart these hoes. I accepted the marriage and acted very excited when I was really determined to beat them at their own game! The next day the Sheikh and Many relatives came. I was so nervous not knowing what to do I just sat down and went with the flow! An hour later the ceremony was over and my cousin Fartun and I were officially married. I felt so weird, but she felt even worse. She wasn’t in on the wedding plan and she had a whole love life with another guy who lives In her city. Her dad refused him to marry her because of his tribe. I felt really bad and I contacted her to let her know that I didn’t want this neither but since it’s official let’s try to make the best out of it . The next day I’m on a flight back to my Cousin Wife and my stomach had the worst butterflies you could imagine. I didn’t know what to expect! Stay tuned next Saturday for Part 2. Wishing y’all the best! Love y’all ❤️❤️🏳️‍🌈🇸🇴🦅

Escaping The Demons 😈

Wassup my loves! I want to first start off by thanking everyone who has supported me with my blogging journey! Y’all are the reason why I continue to write and I genuinely appreciate the love. I know I haven’t posted for about a month but I’ve been dealing with a lot of mental health issues especially when I’m writing these blogs because it brings the trauma that I’ve been through back! Even though I’ve been taking my time to post my blogs y’all continue to support me and I honestly love how understanding y’all are of how I’m feeling because there are many people who haven’t understood me my whole life. For those who haven’t read the previous blog go check it out for a better understanding of today’s blog. ❤️❤️💕

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I had left my mentally abusive “uncle” and my family had enrolled me to a somewhat of a nice boarding school. As soon as I walked into the gate of the school I started to feel all nauseous and sick not really knowing what to expect, but also relief from knowing that I wouldn’t be staying with my mentally abusive uncle anymore. It’s never easy being the new kid at school especially when you’re coming in the middle of the school year. I had everyone staring at me wondering who I was and what I had done to be there. Majority of the people who went to the school were there because they were sent by their family for doing normal things that most teenagers do such as partying, chilling with friends, or trying weed which Somali parents tend to find very rebellious. The excuse that I had made for why my family had sent me there was that my family had found out that I was smoking marijuana. Apparently 90% of my classmates were pot heads so it was also a tactic for me to try to fit in. I’ve only smoked once my whole life before my family had sent me away. I then became good friends with most of my classmates because of that one thing that we had in common (Weed). Eventually I got so used to the school that I started dealing for extra money. I was so caught up into those moments that my sexuality wasn’t really something I thought of much anymore until one day I had the craziest thing happen to me! I was really high laying on my bed wear my Macwiis (Somali Men Garment) getting ready to sleep. I had one of my friends slap my ass when he was walking past me, but I didn’t really think of it as much. He smacks my ass a second time and I still didn’t think of it as anything. Then he comes around a third time and not only did he slap it again he started to rub it, but I had a huge fear that this was a test to see how I’d react. I started to talk shit to him until he grabbed my dick that had a minor erection from all of the ass touching that had happened. He assured me that everything was alright and I had nothing to worry about. I was pretty positive that a straight man wouldn’t have grabbed another mans penis so I felt a little more comfortable. He winked at me and I followed him to the bathroom afterwards. We hid in one of the shower stalls and gave each other some very good oral. That was my first gay experience in the world’s most dangerous city! This man made my experience in Mogadishu so much better when he had opened the gateway to my queerness and also had introduced me to the underground queer world! I started to meet different queers in the city who would be afraid for their lives and would be afraid to live a completely normal Queer life but would still have the courage to do get togethers and have all of the fun that they could have in a completely discreet way. My 1st school year had ended a few months later and I was beginning to have a somewhat of a better life until everything took a complete 360 degree turn. I ended up getting married to my 1st cousin over the summer 🥴.

To find out more of how and what happened stay tuned ‼️

Macwiis- A Somali cultural male garment that is wrapped around the waist

Pain & Misery 🤧

Hey guys I hope everyone is enjoying their holidays! It’s a new fucking decade so I’m wishing y’all positive vibes and a whole lots of love! So if you haven’t read my last blog you have to go read it so you know where I left off at or else shit won’t make much sense to you.

I opened the door and looked at the big mysterious man who has told me to pack up my bags. Fearfully I had no choice so I grabbed my belongings and went into the vehicle. He was driving a mini taxi so I wasn’t as afraid anymore but I still didn’t know where we were heading. We stopped at this creepy restaurant and he told me that my aunt told him to feed me breakfast. I was so angry and upset that I wanted to just run and jump off a cliff or something. I had these random men picking on me because I didn’t speak proper Somali at the restaurant which wasn’t making anything better. I’m thinking to myself how will I survive this shit. We sat and grabbed breakfast but I was barely able to eat still wondering what was destined to happen next. I didn’t want to speak with the guy because I’m afraid that if they heard my high pitched voice that I’ll be suspected. We left the restaurant and he drove me to this decent looking house. This random guy opens the door and takes my bags inside. He shakes my hand and tells me that I’m welcome. I still don’t know who the fuck the guy is and I’m still very fearful of speaking to anyone. He shows my room which was a small room with a mattress and a mosquito net that had no window. I went inside the room and didn’t come out the whole day. I was balling my eyes out wondering what I did to deserve this. What some straight people don’t get is that us queers can not control who we are attracted to and forcing ourselves to be with someone who we don’t truly love is not fair to the other person and I. I was starving but I couldn’t eat anything. I cried myself to sleep and woke up crying the next morning. He comes in my room and asks me to eat breakfast. I got up but I still didn’t say a word to him. He started to yell at me and call me a woman because a woman should be the “quiet” ones and not men. I finally convinced myself to start talking and to ask him who he was. He told me that he’s my “uncle”. A family friend who knows my family. I asked him if he knew how long I was going to be here. He replied “I heard that you’ll be here for good”. My heart fucking dropped but I was so emotionless since I’ve pretty much cried all of my tears away already. I was living in that house for about 5 months and I still had no contact with my family, No access to money, I was at a point where I was willing to commit suicide because of the mental abuse that I was being put through. Apparently my family would send me money every month but I would never see it. It would apparently go to this man and anytime I would ask him to get me something he’d say I don’t have that type of money to buy you anything. The amount your family had sent me is for the care I’m giving you. I’m over here frustrated because I haven’t been out of the house for 5 months nor have I spoken to anybody. One day I decided to sneak away and ask a mini taxi that was driving in front of the house to drop me off the Xawaalad (Money Transfer Center) and I had told him that I’ll pay him once I get money from inside. He didn’t mind, he was a really genuine guy. I went inside and I told the man working there that I should be receiving money and it’ll be under a different name. I told him that my “uncle” sent me to pick it up for him. He then asked me a few simple verification questions then he gave me the money. I asked the guy if he could help me get around today to run a few errands. He accepted my request and the first place we went to was the phone shop to get me a phone! I got a small phone that looked so embarrassing to carry but it still made calls and that is the important thing. I then asked if he could take me to a restaurant for some good lunch then take me home afterwards before my “uncle” gets home from work. I invited the driver to eat lunch with me then I was dropped of at the house. I went in the room and I started to call numbers like the US Embassy but since we were in Somalia the calls were never really accepted. A couple of hours later my uncle comes home very heated yelling at me because I left the house without telling him and that I picked up the money. He asks me to give him the money and I told him that I used it all since I only had $30 USD left. He started going off on me and he started to get really aggressive. He asked what I’ve done with the money, but I never told him I got a phone because he would really return it. I told him that I went to an expensive ass restaurant instead. I call my grandma the next day and told her that I didn’t want to stay with this guy anymore and all of the abuse that he put me through. A few days later he found out about my phone but he couldn’t really say anything because my grandma had already called him. My family then decided to put me into a boarding school where all of the Dhaqancelis (Rehabilitation for the uncultured) kids were. This was the first time I was actually smiling and happy to see people speaking English. My “uncle” was so upset that he wouldn’t be receiving my income anymore though. I packed my bags and started a whole new journey with much more challenges to face. It was actually starting to get somewhat better but because of all of the things that I went through I developed really bad anxiety. I was really afraid to start my first day of school. My next goal was to convince my family that I’m straight. It was really difficult but I ended up doing it. Find out on my next blog how my journey in Mogadishu has been and the shit I had to do to have them believe that I was a heterosexual man. 🤮

I Love you guys so much and thank you for all of the support that I have been receiving. I genuinely appreciate it! & If you have any questions or suggestions for blogs please feel free to DM me at my Twitter @QueerMali 💕 ❤️

Extreme Deception 💔

What’s going down my M’Fing Loves! ❤️

So I know that this blog is something that y’all have been waiting to read and I’ve honestly been really anxious to share it because it brings back so much traumatic memories that I wouldn’t even wish upon my worst enemy. I was truly destroyed but I picked myself back the fuck up. 😏

If you’ve read the last blog I have talked about when I was in my last year of middle school and I’ve fully accepted the fact that I was gay (I was 14 Years Old). I got caught messaging a boy by my “friend” at lunch and when I came out to her I was exposed right afterwards. At the end of the day it reached my parents and I tried convincing them that it was just fake rumors that were going around and they weren’t really convinced until after 2 weeks of disownment (Read previous blog for details). The school year ended, I really didn’t get over the fact that I was disowned, but somehow everything returned to normal by the beginning of summer and we were a “Happy” family again. 😒

Summer went by so fucking quick that year. I wasn’t allowed to hang with any of my friends or neighbors because my family was afraid that I’d be wilding and shit. I was deadass a innocent ass child too, but whatever happened during the school year had them not trusting me and shit. As long as I had my WiFi and cable I really didn’t give two fucks. I started my first day of my freshman year acting all straight and came dressed up as a whole hood ass nigga LMAO. As soon as I walked into the school’s cafeteria I see all these different tables set up and students signing up for different groups and after school activities. First thing that catches my eyes is our Rainbow Flag 🏳️‍🌈. Mind that I’m still over here trying to act as straight as possible, but from the inside I feel all bubbly and warm. I walk closer to get a better view and I see the group members who were there from the previous year(s). This is literally the first time I’m seeing openly LGBT people and I started to feel very excited. They kind of clocked me staring at them and they asked if I wanted to join. I automatically went into fucking denial! Although, day by day I would come to school more comfortable and start dressing more like myself. So I started to wear skinny jeans and I low-key got a fat ass, plus I’d always get all of these nice compliments that had boosted my self esteem tremendously. I honestly always hated my ass because I would always have my family that constantly bullied me for it. Every time I’m leaving the house I’d wear a big ass jacket to hide my body shape but would go to school and take it off so I can feel free. This was literally the first time in my life where I felt like I was a caterpillar who hatched from his cocoon and flew in a heavenly ass breeze. I started to come out to a lot of the Queer & Queer friendly students at school throughout the the first few months of school (August, September, October). This is where the story gets very fucking juicy! I had this boy named Anthony in my Art class who I became friends with but I was low-key crushing on him for awhile. He is Bisexual but I never really came out to him. I think he already knew, but he didn’t want to force me to come out to him which I really find sexy as fuck. I was also avoiding the whole awkwardness too. We started to notice that we were really digging each other within the month of November when we were assigned as partners for a Art project. I then confessed that I really liked him and that I was hoping that he and I could be a thing. He told me that he likes me too but he doesn’t want to be in a secret relationship. I was honestly very understanding but my feelings felt so strong. Never have I felt that way about anyone so it was kind of shocking. My heart would pound faster and louder every time he smiled at me with those pearly white teeth and those deep ass dimples. Just Incase y’all were wondering there were only a few other Somalis who went to school with me and I always avoided most of them. I’d always sit on the opposite end because of the amount of hate and toxicity I received from My people growing up. I’ve noticed that our people are less likely to be extremely homophobic when you aren’t Muslim or Somali. One day my heart couldn’t take it and I was young but my lips just wanted to be pressed against Anthony’s. So After school when I was ready to go on the bus and we were dismissed from our last class in front of the whole school I walked up to Anthony and planted a big kiss on him. While I was kissing him I didn’t really care about my surroundings and what anyone else had to say. The feeling was just too fucking good to worry about people’s ignorance and close mindedness. After the kiss, Anthony was just surprised that all of this happened. I turned around ready to go on my bus, and standing right behind me looking very furious and shocked is my stepdad! My whole body became numb, my chest started to close up, and I was lost for words. He apparently came to pick me up so I could go to an appointment with him. We got in the car and he drove straight home. I go into my room and I was just wondering what was gonna happen next.😳

I can hear the ruckus going on in the house and I’m just feeling very numb with a lot of mixed emotions. I felt happy because I finally had the courage to kiss Anthony, but I’m also scared about what was going to happen now that I’ve been caught red handed. My Mother comes to my room and starts going off on me, then spits in my face. Four hours of just brainstorming on what I should do with my life has passed and I was also so unsure about what was going on in the house because I heard a lot of other people talking. I then was called downstairs and tell me why I walked into a whole meeting about me with 6 of my aunts and uncles, my mother, my stepdad, and my grandmother. You could just tell from a glimpse that they regretted my existence. I was so confused about how quickly I went from being the favorite family child to the boy they wish that he had never existed. After a hour of being lectured I was given an offer of staying in Africa for a month to clear my head since I’ve went through so much during that year. At this point I’m not thinking clearly and I was literally desperate enough to do anything my family wanted me to do especially if it was just for a month so I agreed to the deal. They cut a one month round trip ticket for me the next day. My departure was on my birthday which was 10 days from the day they cut the ticket. When I told Anthony what happened he was broken-hearted. He asked me what if my family sends me over there to be thrown off a building. I told him that my family wouldn’t ever do anything to hurt me. I assured him that I’d be back in a month and that I saw the flight ticket already. I felt so bad and I knew that I was going to miss him but I had to do what had to be done. I went with one of my aunts and her husband. We were in Nairobi, Kenya for about a week and I low-key had a good time. We stayed in a nice hotel and did a lot of touring and eating at different restaurants and shit. Then comes the day I was departing to Mogadishu. As soon as I got onto the flight I had all of these butterflies kick in. I was really nervous because this was a time where Somalia had just got out of a 25 year civil war and they were starting to get somewhat better. I didn’t speak much Somali at the time neither so I didn’t know how I was going to be treated. As soon as I landed there and got off that plane, it didn’t really look as bad as I imagined it to be. From there on I had somewhat of a relief. I actually enjoyed it a lot for the first couple of weeks. I was really excited to leave because I noticed I had almost a week left till my return back home, but I also had a really good time while I was there. So, my aunt and I stayed at a hotel and we had a routine where I would go to her room for breakfast and we would order room service from there. 7 days before my departure I woke up one morning and brushed my teeth. I went over to my aunts room as usual so we could order breakfast. I enter her room and surprisingly the only thing that was there was the bedsheets. At this point I’m assuming she was switched over to a different room because she was complaining about her room a few days back. I went to the hotel lobbyist and asked him which room my aunt had moved to. He looks at me stunned and said “Didn’t your aunt tell you that she was leaving to the United States today ?”. I fucking froze like never before and felt as if my soul was stripped away from my body. I go to my room and I start balling my eyes out. Consequently, I started vomiting and I started to wonder what was going to happen to me next. The Worst part was that she took my passport with her and I had no other way of getting back. I barely spoke Somali, I had no relatives that I knew there, I didn’t have a penny, nor did I have a phone. I had no idea about where I was supposed to go next or what I was supposed to do.At this point I’m getting ready for death so I thought to myself that I might as well get it over with instead of making the mistake of living to be stoned and thrown of a building. Someone came to the door knocking loud as fuck. I was really scared , but I had to get myself together so that whoever it was didn’t sense any weakness. I washed my face then came to the door to open it. Slowly I open the door and there was this mysterious 6’5″ big and tall dark skinned man who looked at me and told me to pack my bags and to go with him. I’ve never seen this man in my life so I was really hesitant to even speak. I asked if he knew who I was and he told me that he was sent. Sent by who?? Find out in my next blog dropping next Wednesday. To be continued…

Been Exposed 😧😱

Hey everybody 💕!!! I hope that everyone is enjoying their day! Don’t ever let anything or anyone get in the way of your happiness because every single one of you are fucking SPECIAL ✨!! I’m so sorry that I haven’t posted in about a month because it’s been a really rough month. I wasn’t in good terms with my family. Plus, being in the closet during Pride month is a really difficult job. Being in the closet itself is a difficult job, but when it’s Pride month it’s like working during peak season at a distribution center. The back to back celebrations, parties, and events will wear you the fuck out! This was also my very first pride so I had to make the best out of it!

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My Pride Parade Outfittt! I’m also wearing a Macwiis (A Traditional Somali clothing that’s wrapped around for men) patterned scarf inspired by Mr. Abdi Maroodi my childhood friend at Islamic school who came out the closet about a year ago and made the Macwiis into a beautiful skirt! We reconnected through his picture and he made this summer the best summer that I’ve ever had! 💕💕

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– My good friend Abdi Maroodi slaying the Macwiis patterened skirt!! 💕🇸🇴✨

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So if you’ve read my last blog I talked about how I’ve come to accept my sexuality when I was in middle school! This blog is about the time I was exposed in 8th grade. I was 14 years old and I had fully accepted that I was attracted to boys and not girls. I always knew growing up, but I always believed that it wasn’t natural and that it was sick thoughts and whispers from Shaytan (Satan). The more that I’ve seen songs and videos about our LGBTQIA+ community the more I was prouder. I Kissed A Girl (Katy Perry), Same Love (Macklemore), She Keeps Me Warm (Mary Lambert). All of those songs were playing everywhere that same year I was in the 8th grade. I’d go on YouTube and have those 3 songs on replay. I’d also watch emotional videos of teens coming out, short gay films, Ellen DeGeneres, and all of that good stuff.

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I think I kinda got jealous of seeing all the boyfriend tags on YouTube! Most of the couples back then either met on Facebook or met each other through a friend. One day I went on Facebook and added myself to a teen dating group where I met this cute guy named Adam who was about a year older and who also lived in Columbus. We exchanged numbers and started texting everyday, every hour, and literally every freaking minute. I would go to school very happy knowing that even though I won’t probably get to meet this guy that I at least have someone to talk to.

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One day during lunch I was sitting with my bestfriend Tatiana (Fake name). I got a text message from Adam and shockingly it was a dick pic. We never talked sexually so it was a huge surprise. Tatiana saw the reaction I had after seeing it so she got curious. She asked me what I saw and I didn’t say anything so she snatched my phone. Luckily my phone was locked and she couldn’t see it, but I felt like I was ready to tell someone about my sexuality. I told her that I had to talk to her privately so we got up and went to the hallway. I didn’t tell her that I got a dick pic but I told her that I was attracted to boys and then showed her a shirtless selfie of Adam and told her that he was someone that I was talking to and that picture was what I reacted to. Her reaction surprisingly wasn’t bad at all. Her first words were “OMG!!! I finally have a gay bestfriend! We gotta go shopping ASAP” 😒. I told her to keep it a secret and that she was the only person who knows in the whole world except obviously the boys who I “played” around with growing up. She said that I’ve got her word.

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Mind that the school that I attend has only 150 students and 85-90% are Somali Muslims. Everybody’s momma’s know each other. I have 2 more 45 minute periods after lunch then it’s time to go home. I went to my class very happy thinking “Wow! That was a very nice come out”. After the first class ends, as I walk towards my locker I literally see the whole school running to me. Asking me If I was Gay. I started to deny it until Tatiana showed up and said “Stop Lying and tell them what you told me you Gay Ass Nigga“. At this point I just froze and didn’t say anything. I could still remember the numbness that I felt every time that I think about that moment. A few minutes later I was called into the principal office. Word travels faster than light when you’re in a school where everyone knows each other. My principal told me to have a seat and shared with me that she has a gay brother. She gave me a phone number to call (Stonewall Columbus) if I needed any support from the gay community in Columbus. She asked me if I wanted her to talk to the school’s Somali Liason ( (Mr.Ahmed) Meddler between parents and school staff). Obviously I said no because he knew my parents well and it wouldn’t of been a good conversation. After I left the office I made it to the last 15 minutes of my last class and it was very scary. All the nasty looks I was getting, the whispering, literally everything. Surprisingly a few of the guys who used to bully me for being feminine wanted to be my friend and started sharing their Hot Cheetos with me which was really weird. I got on the bus and put on my headphones. Luckily I wasn’t bothered on the way home.

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When I got home I walked in the house and all I see is my mom in the kitchen looking at me in disgust. My stepdad on the couch looking angry as hell. I asked them what’s wrong and they just started going off on me. They didn’t give me a chance to speak. Apparently the Mr.Ahmed came by and told them that I was Gay and that If they don’t get to me now that they’ll “lose” me forever. They made the craziest accusations such as molesting my 2 year old brother who I used babysit whenever nobody was home. I started balling my eyes out. I didn’t know what to do. I thought of suicide for a minute, but was never brave enough to go through with it. They kicked me out that same day and sent me to my Grandmas house. My grandma was the sweetest person ever. She never looked at me in anyway and she let me give her a explanation. I told her my stepdad hates me and always wanted me out the house which I actually believed and that my mom was just crazy. I told her that they were just rumors that were going around and that dumbass Mr.Ahmed brought it to the house. I stayed with her for about 2 weeks with strict rules from my parents such as no more bus riding and no phone. My parents then decided they wanted me back home and that it was a mistake. I told them that I was straight, into women, and that they will never hear anything about homosexuality that pertains their son. School ends a week after coming back home to my parents and summer went by pretty smooth as a young “Straight” boy. Little do they know that I’m a High school Freshman next year and that their “straight” son is literally Gayyy!

Stay tuned! I’ll be posting a blog once a week every Sunday!! 🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈

Accepting Myself 🏳️‍🌈🇸🇴

Hey guys! I’m so sorry that I haven’t posted for a long time. It’s been a very busy and stressful month. Happy Eid and I hope everyone has had a blessed Ramadan! Today I’m going to talk about what had made me accept my sexuality after being in denial for sooo long. I always knew that I was attracted to boys growing up. I was confused, scared, and felt soo alone. I knew that I couldn’t bring the topic up to anybody because I had gone through a lot of bullying at school where kids will call me a Fag, a girl, and every single homophobic word in the dictionary. I’d go home to a very conservative family where even watching Tv shows with music was a huge issue. I definitely didn’t want to tell my parents how I was feeling!! I was still trying to figure out what was wrong with me. I was only 7 years old when I was yelled at everyday and every night for walking “feminine”, talking feminine, doing everything the wrong way. I really tried every second to do as I was told. I would try to walk different and I’d feel so uncomfortable. My voice and the way I talked wasn’t something I could change neither. I really hated myself for a long time. As I got older my family became very strict. I had this neighbor (Omar) who I’d play with everyday and it turned into some type of explicit romance. Now I’m around the age of 13 and middle school was a huge life experience. After “playing” with Omar one day, he said something that triggered me. He asked me “What If our parents find out that we’re Gay?”. I looked at him in denial and said “Look we’re not gay, we are straight. Just because we do gay things sometimes it doesn’t mean that we necessarily are. Being Gay is Haram (Forbidden)” .

I then went back home and I was constantly thinking about that question that I’ve been asked and I kept on thinking throughout the whole evening. I had a new Ipod at the time so I decided to do a little research about being gay. I was a huge science kid back then and I believed in anything scientific because science really created everything we use. I read a lot of different articles about scientists saying that it is completely impossible for a person who is a homosexual to become a heterosexual. I was still in denial, but I had opened up to the idea. A few months later I turn 14 and “Same Love” by Macklemore had came out. It was a song that was playing on the radio everyday when I’m on the bus to and from school. I memorized every single word with pride finally accepting that I can’t change. I then started to watch YouTube videos of teens coming out to their parents getting beautiful reactions, Gay short films and etc. My eyes opened up and the light has touched my soul. I knew that there wasn’t really anything wrong with me, but a lot wrong with society. I was finally beginning to be happier knowing that I wasn’t weird or a sinner, but I was just simply me.

Before the school year had ended I got outed to my school and family. I’ll stop at this and continue the next story on my next blog!!

Stay tuned loves 💕💕💕

First Crush 😉

Hey there gorgeous loves!!

One day I came home from school. I was in the third grade and It was a pretty bad day for me because I really didn’t have friends and I was mostly bullied. I would usually tend to be around the girls instead of the boys who are either playing football or playing tag. I would be called all types of names, but I’d get the worst feeling whenever I was called either gay or a fag. Coming from a very conservative family homosexuality is basically the worst thing imaginable. So after school I came home, and it was pretty warm out. I did my homework then I went outside and played with the neighborhood kids. There was this one boy (let’s call him Abdi) who would always offer me something, usually it would be candy or toys. Abdi approached me while I was watching a game of curb ball.

He grabbed me by my hand and said let’s go! The minute he held my hand I had huge a rush of adrenaline and emotions going throughout my whole body. I’ve never felt like that about anyone else before, so I was very confused. He took me on a adventure and we went to the woods to go look around I guess. Even though we weren’t really doing much I was having the best time of my life. I then tripped over a huge branch that was on the floor and I got a little cut on my arm. He helped me up and looked really sad. I asked him if everything was alright. He then said I don’t want you getting hurt, you’re my friend. It was soo sweet that I gave him a hug and told him that I’m fine and it’s just a minor cut. He said he had bandages at his house so we went back to his place. His mom was over at the neighbors and his dad was working so there was no one home. He grabbed the bandaid and put it on my arm. Two minutes later I saw him getting closer and closer until he pressed his lips against mine and then gave me my first kiss. We looked at eachother and smiled. I was really freaking out though so I told him that I have to go home or else I’d be in trouble. I gave him a hug and left. That whole night I didn’t sleep because I felt guilty for having these feelings. I honestly thought that I was probably gonna end up in hell because that’s all I’ve comed to learn. I started to avoid Abdi anytime that we would run into each other. He would come knocking at my door and ask if I wanted to play and I would always make up an excuse. Then one day he caught me walking home from the bus stop and told me that he was moving the next day. I felt so horrible inside that I honestly literally got sick and started vomiting . I wouldn’t say that It was the food that I ate that got me sick because I was feeling perfectly normal until he told me that. I went over to his place and asked if he wanted to play and he said of course. We then went to play in the neighborhood park. We started to play tag and chase eachother all around. Alot of kids were outside too that asked if they could join. We said yes, but eventually we left the game. We ended up playing wrestling, then it turned into gay wrestling. We were basically 8 year old boys who were humping eachother Lol. He then decided to call it “S Fight”. Incase y’all are wondering “S” stands for sex Haha. The next day after school I get off the bus and run to Abdi’s house to help them move and say goodbye, but by the time I got there they were already gone. I was devestated for weeks not knowing where they moved to. I started to then hate myself for liking another boy. That’s the story of my first crush! “Abdi” if you’re reading this and you remember the details of this, please don’t hesitate to reach out to me it’s been so long!

I will be posting blogs Everyday Midnight Eastern Time Standard! Thank you for your support and much love💘!

Yours Truly, Queer Kidd

My First Blog! 😊

Hello my gorgeous loves!!

I’m really excited because this is my first blog ever!! I always wanted a way to inspire others who are like me and I thought to myself the other day that maybe blogging is something that could work. I want this to be a blog where someone can read my expericences and relate to them. I want this to be a platform where LGBTQ Muslims can laugh, cry, and see that they are not alone. Love is love and nobody can tell you who or what gender you should or should not be with perioood.

About me:

I was born in Kismayo, Somalia. My mother fled the country due to a civil war when I was 3 months old. We came to Nairobi, Kenya where we resided there for 7 months, and then we got a visa to come to the United States! The first year of my life is pretty blank, but I remember most of my childhood in the states. Coming to the United States was a pretty big move for my mom. Imagine going to a place where everything is totally different culturally, and linguistically. The biggest issue was that there was plenty of racism going on. We weren’t really accepted in the African American community either because we were foreign. A year after living in the USA, a horrible tragedy happened. 9/11 was a very sad day for everyone and it affected us in many ways. Islamaphobia is something huge we had to deal with. Many people were and still are afraid of the Muslims. I always knew that I was attracted to boys from a very young age, but it wasn’t until I was 14 till I accepted it. I’ve heard many different slurs growing up. I’ve been called a Nigger, a Fag, a African booty scratcher, and a Terrorist. All of that came with alot of emotion and sadness, but it just made me stronger! I have plenty of stories that I would love to share with y’all in the upcoming blogs. I hope that this is the beginning to a new friendship.

Yours Truly, Queer Kidd