2002

I was a baby back then. I was barely 21 and still living with my parents. I was a perpetual procastinator and I dropped out of more classes than I passed. The previous year I bought a 2001 mustang. That car was my baby. I enjoyed driving to nowhere in particular with my windows down and radio blaring. I bought lots of clothes, shoes, and makeup. I ate out every day, and I had no real responsibilites except for that car.

I had decided earlier that year that it was time to get married. I was muslim for 2 years by then and well it was just the thing to do. I struggled a lot to fit into the muslim community. I struggled to forget my past and be taken seriously. Muslims that I knew before Islam had a hard time accepting me as a muslim and I needed to get away. I needed a fresh start.

As a joke, my friends and I registered for islamic matrimonial sites. While I put the profile up on a whim, I seriously hoped that it would work. I received, literally, hundreds of responses. I only responded to one.

Flashforward to July 31, 2002. That was the day I was leaving to get married. It was barely sunrise and I ran around the house like a madwoman. Finished packing. Got dressed and said my goodbyes. My dad was bringing me to the airport. He was very quiet on the way, but before I walked through the security gates he asked me if I realy had to go. I promised him that I would be back and gave him a hug. I looked back to see him crying. My parents had been in shock the months leading up to this day. I informed them of my plans to marry and move over 1400 miles away. You see, no one in my family lives more than 20 minutes away from eachother. I was the rebel. The one who would set off and forge a new life. A new life without them. They were terrified and to be honest it took years for them to get over it.

I reached my destination in just under 3 hours and stepped off the plane to be greeted by my intended at the baggage claim. It was the first time that we had met face to face. In just over 24 hours we would be husband and wife. It was the craziest, impulsive and amazing decision I ever made.

The next day my life took a new turn. I went from carefree young twenty something to dutiful wife and mother in a years time. I immersed myself in Islam and my husband. We were building our life together and I was satisfied with every moment.

I enjoyed being in a new place with a new identity. No one knew the old me. Just ME.

I sit here, today, six years later reminiscing on the life we created together. It has not been perfect. NO WAY, not even close. It was ours though. I can look back on those early moments and see an innocence and simplicity. It was a time before school and lawyers and immigration. I never thought that one day I would be forced to go it alone again. This trial in our lives has taught me so much about my husband. He is honest. MashaAllah he is honest. I can't say enough how much I value this in him. He is honest in a brutal way, but I will take that over deception any day. He is a great provider and an exceptional father. He encouraged me to go to school and supported me fully while I studied. Most of all, he has waited patiently for us to be reunited and for that I love him more this day than I did then. Alhamdulillah