Asexuality, Writing, and Burnout

This has been cross-posted from The Asexual Agenda.

A year ago, I wrote a post announcing that I wanted to make 2015 The Year of Writing about Asexuality for Muslims. Over the course of the following nine months, I wrote ten essays for Muslim sites about asexuality, as well as four essays about the intersection of asexuality, Muslimness, and accessibility, with a focus on my experiences at the mosque (see list here).

At the end of November 2015, the site I had primarily been writing for, Love InshAllah, shut down indefinitely. I had had some luck writing for other Muslim sites, but usually not directly about asexuality (hence the focus on my mosque experiences in the other essays), so the loss of Love InshAllah was a major blow to my writing plans.

Several other events around the same time also impacted me, including another Muslim site leaving one of my submissions ignored in their slush pile, some private blogging drama, and dealing with misogyny at my mosque. I was exhausted from several months of juggling a full time job, two volunteer positions, an intensive Arabic class, and all this writing, and so I decided to take a hiatus during December.

As the intended one-month hiatus from writing turned into two months and then three, I realized that it wasn’t just writing on top of everything else that had exhausted me, it was writing itself. Writing about asexuality for Muslims had been rewarding in many ways, but it had also burned me out.

One definition of burnout is putting more emotional energy into an activity or cause than you get back. Many of the essays I wrote were deeply personal, in some cases things I had never talked about publicly before or experiences that had been wounding to me. I’m someone that tends to keep things to myself and putting myself out there like that was often a struggle.

I started writing about asexuality and Islam because there wasn’t really anything else out there on the subject. I hoped that by writing publicly about my experiences, I could carve out an asexual Muslim space where others might join me. I have received a number of comments, both privately and publicly, from other asexual Muslims and that means a lot. But there’s still no asexual Muslim community of any kind, just ships passing in the night every few months.

And knowing that if I wanted to read anything about the intersection of asexuality and Islam, I pretty much had to write it myself ended up putting a lot of pressure on me.

There was also the reaction from non-asexual Muslims. Or perhaps I should say non-reaction. For the most part, I didn’t receive too much negativity from people, and I’m grateful for that. However, I began to notice a pattern after awhile that few people seemed to relate to my experiences in any real way. I was just a curiosity to them, worth a “Thanks for teaching me about this” but no deeper engagement. Discussions that I hoped to contribute to continued on as if I didn’t exist.

I realize that community building and visibility work are long-term processes. But I underestimated how much it would take out of me and I overestimated how much I would get back from it. Hence the burnout.

I’ve taken the extra two months to think about how I can continue writing in a way that’s more sustainable. To reset my expectations to be more realistic.

For most of my life, asexuality has been an experience of isolation and alienation for me. Running into the limits of how much I can change that was a tough experience. I still hope that by plugging away at it, slowly and gradually, I’ll eventually get somewhere.

I’m going to be really candid here and maybe hijack your post for a second, I hope you don’t mind. I am so very sorry to hear that. This page was supposed to be a place to prevent things like this from happening and well, it’s upsetting to see that you’re going through this partly because of a lack of meaningful engagement from other muslim aces. Yeah, it’s lovely and all to know that we exist but, pardon me a moment, it’s no different than sitting down and twiddling our thumbs while other people, like yourself are putting so much of themselves into speaking about our concerns feel like they’re just throwing all of that in a huge gaping void.

You don’t have to reply to this if you don’t want to as you’ve clearly said here that your suffering from burn out regarding this very topic. The question is, what is it that we’re doing wrong over here? You have gone beyond everything to be such a reliable, wonderful source to people like myself and still there is no response. Seeing that I decided to make this place, that maybe perhaps it would help to have a space specifically designated to speaking casually. While my efforts are not even a mere fraction of what you’ve done I’d still like to know that what’s up, you know? 

How can we be more inclusive? How can we be more welcoming? I’m just so frustrated. It would help to know what people want but all there is are *crickets chirping*.

I don’t know where you find the energy and strength to do this. I just sort of… fizzled out. I haven’t looked at this blog in months because there is no participation. This blog has 55 followers out of which barely ten are muslim aces. The only thing that sort of got off the ground here was the introductory post or when you or elainexe reblogged some stuff from here otherwise there would be absolutely nothing.

Again, I offer my sympathies. If you’d like to talk I’m here for it. 

Thank you for the kind and thoughtful response! I read your post earlier about your own frustrations with the lack of content from other asexual Muslims and how that’s stymied your own blog.

I wish I knew what the answer is. I can understand if people don’t feel comfortable joining asexual community spaces for any reason but a blog like yours could be a safer space for people to share. I don’t think it’s you, but maybe there’s something larger going on that neither of us is aware of.

What I would really like is just to see more people sharing their experiences and beginning discussions with each other. My own experiences are obviously limited and quite different from many people’s, and I would love to hear other stories and to learn. I really hope that people will come forward, if only to explain what they need to see before they contribute so that we can work on that.

idk if my input is needed or welcome, but tbh, i never feel comfortably weighing in on ace issues, because repeatedly i feel too sexual for ace spaces. similarly, i feel too queer for muslim spaces, and those two together hold me back from interacting with “ace tumblr” and “muslim tumblr” respectively

but i def appreciate and hoard yr posts when they cross my dash idk

Thanks for the kind words! I definitely understand about not feeling like you fit in any spaces. I don’t feel I fit in to most LGBTQ spaces, including many queer Muslim spaces, because they hardly seem to realize asexuality exists. I have all kinds of issues with Muslim spaces as a queer, asexual, convert, which is what’s caused most of my burnout. As far as asexual spaces go, I think I’ve mostly carved out my own little space away from the mainstream of the community on Tumblr with people who are supportive and interested in reading what I have to say even if they don’t share my experiences. Having the asexual space is important to me, having gone without one for so long, but I’m glad to build community with other Muslim aces anywhere that welcomes both me and them.

Hello again after a year and a half of silence though not of absence. I have to echo strawberreli in that I don’t know that I fit. I also don’t say much because I don’t feel like I have a lot to contribute. I greatly appreciate what I see here but don’t know where or how I fit in. I am a solid grey ace.. probably something like a genderqueer panromantic grey ace if I want to throw out more labels. However I also think my sexuality has a bit of piety about it which is confusing in Islam and then makes me wonder if it’s okay to use the label asexual… so I get confused about where I fit in or what I could contribute.

I joined tumblr to be in touch with this community. It’s my only “social media” type account. I’m very private and resistant to a lot of internet sharing but I appreciate the community I see here. I don’t know… is there a way I could help with any of this?

I appreciate your input on this post. It’s really nice of you to share your concerns despite the reluctance you feel about doing so. Can I just say that it was your posts in addition to a couple of other people’s which were the final tipping point for me to make this blog. I was really impressed and touched by what you had to say despite coming from a different background myself. Your words hold worth. I hope you know that.

Coming from someone who is trying to establish a community of sorts over here could you say what you would like to see which would make you feel comfortable or welcome to share your thoughts? You don’t have to if you don’t want to of course. 

Thank you so much! I appreciate your words. I spend a lot of time feeling like my experiences don’t matter that much but this is helping me see that maybe my voice is one that could help others feel like they belong if I would just speak up and be honest.

I will keep your question in mind. I don’t want to pester people with posts and get worried that what I have to say isn’t interesting, mostly. I told ace-muslim that I would write a post about my experiences shortly and do intend to do that. Maybe you could take a look at it when it’s up and let me know if it seems like something I should write more on? Or if it seems discussion worthy?  I just don’t want to bore people.

Thank you again!

Asexuality, Writing, and Burnout

This has been cross-posted from The Asexual Agenda.

A year ago, I wrote a post announcing that I wanted to make 2015 The Year of Writing about Asexuality for Muslims. Over the course of the following nine months, I wrote ten essays for Muslim sites about asexuality, as well as four essays about the intersection of asexuality, Muslimness, and accessibility, with a focus on my experiences at the mosque (see list here).

At the end of November 2015, the site I had primarily been writing for, Love InshAllah, shut down indefinitely. I had had some luck writing for other Muslim sites, but usually not directly about asexuality (hence the focus on my mosque experiences in the other essays), so the loss of Love InshAllah was a major blow to my writing plans.

Several other events around the same time also impacted me, including another Muslim site leaving one of my submissions ignored in their slush pile, some private blogging drama, and dealing with misogyny at my mosque. I was exhausted from several months of juggling a full time job, two volunteer positions, an intensive Arabic class, and all this writing, and so I decided to take a hiatus during December.

As the intended one-month hiatus from writing turned into two months and then three, I realized that it wasn’t just writing on top of everything else that had exhausted me, it was writing itself. Writing about asexuality for Muslims had been rewarding in many ways, but it had also burned me out.

One definition of burnout is putting more emotional energy into an activity or cause than you get back. Many of the essays I wrote were deeply personal, in some cases things I had never talked about publicly before or experiences that had been wounding to me. I’m someone that tends to keep things to myself and putting myself out there like that was often a struggle.

I started writing about asexuality and Islam because there wasn’t really anything else out there on the subject. I hoped that by writing publicly about my experiences, I could carve out an asexual Muslim space where others might join me. I have received a number of comments, both privately and publicly, from other asexual Muslims and that means a lot. But there’s still no asexual Muslim community of any kind, just ships passing in the night every few months.

And knowing that if I wanted to read anything about the intersection of asexuality and Islam, I pretty much had to write it myself ended up putting a lot of pressure on me.

There was also the reaction from non-asexual Muslims. Or perhaps I should say non-reaction. For the most part, I didn’t receive too much negativity from people, and I’m grateful for that. However, I began to notice a pattern after awhile that few people seemed to relate to my experiences in any real way. I was just a curiosity to them, worth a “Thanks for teaching me about this” but no deeper engagement. Discussions that I hoped to contribute to continued on as if I didn’t exist.

I realize that community building and visibility work are long-term processes. But I underestimated how much it would take out of me and I overestimated how much I would get back from it. Hence the burnout.

I’ve taken the extra two months to think about how I can continue writing in a way that’s more sustainable. To reset my expectations to be more realistic.

For most of my life, asexuality has been an experience of isolation and alienation for me. Running into the limits of how much I can change that was a tough experience. I still hope that by plugging away at it, slowly and gradually, I’ll eventually get somewhere.

I’m going to be really candid here and maybe hijack your post for a second, I hope you don’t mind. I am so very sorry to hear that. This page was supposed to be a place to prevent things like this from happening and well, it’s upsetting to see that you’re going through this partly because of a lack of meaningful engagement from other muslim aces. Yeah, it’s lovely and all to know that we exist but, pardon me a moment, it’s no different than sitting down and twiddling our thumbs while other people, like yourself are putting so much of themselves into speaking about our concerns feel like they’re just throwing all of that in a huge gaping void.

You don’t have to reply to this if you don’t want to as you’ve clearly said here that your suffering from burn out regarding this very topic. The question is, what is it that we’re doing wrong over here? You have gone beyond everything to be such a reliable, wonderful source to people like myself and still there is no response. Seeing that I decided to make this place, that maybe perhaps it would help to have a space specifically designated to speaking casually. While my efforts are not even a mere fraction of what you’ve done I’d still like to know that what’s up, you know? 

How can we be more inclusive? How can we be more welcoming? I’m just so frustrated. It would help to know what people want but all there is are *crickets chirping*.

I don’t know where you find the energy and strength to do this. I just sort of… fizzled out. I haven’t looked at this blog in months because there is no participation. This blog has 55 followers out of which barely ten are muslim aces. The only thing that sort of got off the ground here was the introductory post or when you or elainexe reblogged some stuff from here otherwise there would be absolutely nothing.

Again, I offer my sympathies. If you’d like to talk I’m here for it. 

Thank you for the kind and thoughtful response! I read your post earlier about your own frustrations with the lack of content from other asexual Muslims and how that’s stymied your own blog.

I wish I knew what the answer is. I can understand if people don’t feel comfortable joining asexual community spaces for any reason but a blog like yours could be a safer space for people to share. I don’t think it’s you, but maybe there’s something larger going on that neither of us is aware of.

What I would really like is just to see more people sharing their experiences and beginning discussions with each other. My own experiences are obviously limited and quite different from many people’s, and I would love to hear other stories and to learn. I really hope that people will come forward, if only to explain what they need to see before they contribute so that we can work on that.

idk if my input is needed or welcome, but tbh, i never feel comfortably weighing in on ace issues, because repeatedly i feel too sexual for ace spaces. similarly, i feel too queer for muslim spaces, and those two together hold me back from interacting with “ace tumblr” and “muslim tumblr” respectively

but i def appreciate and hoard yr posts when they cross my dash idk

Thanks for the kind words! I definitely understand about not feeling like you fit in any spaces. I don’t feel I fit in to most LGBTQ spaces, including many queer Muslim spaces, because they hardly seem to realize asexuality exists. I have all kinds of issues with Muslim spaces as a queer, asexual, convert, which is what’s caused most of my burnout. As far as asexual spaces go, I think I’ve mostly carved out my own little space away from the mainstream of the community on Tumblr with people who are supportive and interested in reading what I have to say even if they don’t share my experiences. Having the asexual space is important to me, having gone without one for so long, but I’m glad to build community with other Muslim aces anywhere that welcomes both me and them.

Hello again after a year and a half of silence though not of absence. I have to echo strawberreli in that I don’t know that I fit. I also don’t say much because I don’t feel like I have a lot to contribute. I greatly appreciate what I see here but don’t know where or how I fit in. I am a solid grey ace.. probably something like a genderqueer panromantic grey ace if I want to throw out more labels. However I also think my sexuality has a bit of piety about it which is confusing in Islam and then makes me wonder if it’s okay to use the label asexual… so I get confused about where I fit in or what I could contribute.

I joined tumblr to be in touch with this community. It’s my only “social media” type account. I’m very private and resistant to a lot of internet sharing but I appreciate the community I see here. I don’t know… is there a way I could help with any of this?

I’m glad you’re still around! I thought you had left Tumblr and I was sad about that.

Several of the people that have responded have basically said they feel they need to be the unassailable asexual to participate, and I suspect that this may be a factor for others who haven’t spoken up at all.

One of my concerns about my being one of the few asexual Muslims actively writing is that I’m basically a stereotype of asexuality - 100% non-sexual, sex-averse, aromantic. I hate that people feel they need to be like me in order to belong. I write from my own experiences about how things have impacted me, but that’s not the only story to be told.

I don’t really know how to fix this. It seems like a catch-22: more people will be inspired to come forward if they see that someone like them is in the community, but no one is in the community because they’re afraid to come forward.

Really, it’s OK. As long as you identify with asexuality in some way, whatever your reasons might be, and however long it lasts, you are welcome here. What can I do to encourage more people to believe this?

Thank you! Yes,  still here! I just didn’t feel like I had much to add. Your reply is making me think that perhaps I do. I’m realizing that my angle also is valid and needs to be heard. Maybe there are others out there who have an experience like mine and don’t hear that represented and so don’t feel like they belong. 

I appreciate your reply a lot. I think I will write a little more of my experience in another post shortly. I’d love to be more active in this community so will start there, insha’Allah. 

I will also keep thinking about your question. It does seem to be a little of a catch-22. Maybe if more of us write about our own experiences it will help. I will try to be more candid about mine.

...also how do I clip posts? I don’t want this one to take over people’s dashes by being so long... I’m just not that Tumblr literate yet...

Asexuality, Writing, and Burnout

This has been cross-posted from The Asexual Agenda.

A year ago, I wrote a post announcing that I wanted to make 2015 The Year of Writing about Asexuality for Muslims. Over the course of the following nine months, I wrote ten essays for Muslim sites about asexuality, as well as four essays about the intersection of asexuality, Muslimness, and accessibility, with a focus on my experiences at the mosque (see list here).

At the end of November 2015, the site I had primarily been writing for, Love InshAllah, shut down indefinitely. I had had some luck writing for other Muslim sites, but usually not directly about asexuality (hence the focus on my mosque experiences in the other essays), so the loss of Love InshAllah was a major blow to my writing plans.

Several other events around the same time also impacted me, including another Muslim site leaving one of my submissions ignored in their slush pile, some private blogging drama, and dealing with misogyny at my mosque. I was exhausted from several months of juggling a full time job, two volunteer positions, an intensive Arabic class, and all this writing, and so I decided to take a hiatus during December.

As the intended one-month hiatus from writing turned into two months and then three, I realized that it wasn’t just writing on top of everything else that had exhausted me, it was writing itself. Writing about asexuality for Muslims had been rewarding in many ways, but it had also burned me out.

One definition of burnout is putting more emotional energy into an activity or cause than you get back. Many of the essays I wrote were deeply personal, in some cases things I had never talked about publicly before or experiences that had been wounding to me. I’m someone that tends to keep things to myself and putting myself out there like that was often a struggle.

I started writing about asexuality and Islam because there wasn’t really anything else out there on the subject. I hoped that by writing publicly about my experiences, I could carve out an asexual Muslim space where others might join me. I have received a number of comments, both privately and publicly, from other asexual Muslims and that means a lot. But there’s still no asexual Muslim community of any kind, just ships passing in the night every few months.

And knowing that if I wanted to read anything about the intersection of asexuality and Islam, I pretty much had to write it myself ended up putting a lot of pressure on me.

There was also the reaction from non-asexual Muslims. Or perhaps I should say non-reaction. For the most part, I didn’t receive too much negativity from people, and I’m grateful for that. However, I began to notice a pattern after awhile that few people seemed to relate to my experiences in any real way. I was just a curiosity to them, worth a “Thanks for teaching me about this” but no deeper engagement. Discussions that I hoped to contribute to continued on as if I didn’t exist.

I realize that community building and visibility work are long-term processes. But I underestimated how much it would take out of me and I overestimated how much I would get back from it. Hence the burnout.

I’ve taken the extra two months to think about how I can continue writing in a way that’s more sustainable. To reset my expectations to be more realistic.

For most of my life, asexuality has been an experience of isolation and alienation for me. Running into the limits of how much I can change that was a tough experience. I still hope that by plugging away at it, slowly and gradually, I’ll eventually get somewhere.

I’m going to be really candid here and maybe hijack your post for a second, I hope you don’t mind. I am so very sorry to hear that. This page was supposed to be a place to prevent things like this from happening and well, it’s upsetting to see that you’re going through this partly because of a lack of meaningful engagement from other muslim aces. Yeah, it’s lovely and all to know that we exist but, pardon me a moment, it’s no different than sitting down and twiddling our thumbs while other people, like yourself are putting so much of themselves into speaking about our concerns feel like they’re just throwing all of that in a huge gaping void.

You don’t have to reply to this if you don’t want to as you’ve clearly said here that your suffering from burn out regarding this very topic. The question is, what is it that we’re doing wrong over here? You have gone beyond everything to be such a reliable, wonderful source to people like myself and still there is no response. Seeing that I decided to make this place, that maybe perhaps it would help to have a space specifically designated to speaking casually. While my efforts are not even a mere fraction of what you’ve done I’d still like to know that what’s up, you know? 

How can we be more inclusive? How can we be more welcoming? I’m just so frustrated. It would help to know what people want but all there is are *crickets chirping*.

I don’t know where you find the energy and strength to do this. I just sort of… fizzled out. I haven’t looked at this blog in months because there is no participation. This blog has 55 followers out of which barely ten are muslim aces. The only thing that sort of got off the ground here was the introductory post or when you or elainexe reblogged some stuff from here otherwise there would be absolutely nothing.

Again, I offer my sympathies. If you’d like to talk I’m here for it. 

Thank you for the kind and thoughtful response! I read your post earlier about your own frustrations with the lack of content from other asexual Muslims and how that’s stymied your own blog.

I wish I knew what the answer is. I can understand if people don’t feel comfortable joining asexual community spaces for any reason but a blog like yours could be a safer space for people to share. I don’t think it’s you, but maybe there’s something larger going on that neither of us is aware of.

What I would really like is just to see more people sharing their experiences and beginning discussions with each other. My own experiences are obviously limited and quite different from many people’s, and I would love to hear other stories and to learn. I really hope that people will come forward, if only to explain what they need to see before they contribute so that we can work on that.

idk if my input is needed or welcome, but tbh, i never feel comfortably weighing in on ace issues, because repeatedly i feel too sexual for ace spaces. similarly, i feel too queer for muslim spaces, and those two together hold me back from interacting with “ace tumblr” and “muslim tumblr” respectively

but i def appreciate and hoard yr posts when they cross my dash idk

Thanks for the kind words! I definitely understand about not feeling like you fit in any spaces. I don’t feel I fit in to most LGBTQ spaces, including many queer Muslim spaces, because they hardly seem to realize asexuality exists. I have all kinds of issues with Muslim spaces as a queer, asexual, convert, which is what’s caused most of my burnout. As far as asexual spaces go, I think I’ve mostly carved out my own little space away from the mainstream of the community on Tumblr with people who are supportive and interested in reading what I have to say even if they don’t share my experiences. Having the asexual space is important to me, having gone without one for so long, but I’m glad to build community with other Muslim aces anywhere that welcomes both me and them.

Hello again after a year and a half of silence though not of absence. I have to echo strawberreli in that I don’t know that I fit. I also don’t say much because I don’t feel like I have a lot to contribute. I greatly appreciate what I see here but don’t know where or how I fit in. I am a solid grey ace.. probably something like a genderqueer panromantic grey ace if I want to throw out more labels. However I also think my sexuality has a bit of piety about it which is confusing in Islam and then makes me wonder if it’s okay to use the label asexual... so I get confused about where I fit in or what I could contribute.

I joined tumblr to be in touch with this community. It’s my only “social media” type account. I’m very private and resistant to a lot of internet sharing but I appreciate the community I see here. I don’t know... is there a way I could help with any of this?

Prophet Muhammad (PBUH)

I find this so comforting.

Adhan recited in Aqsa Mosque by Azzam Dwaik

This sent shivers down my spine subhan’Allah

This made my hair stand and made me cry. Allahuakbar

It's things like this, on days when I don't feel anything in my heart about religion, that make me think that maybe, just maybe, there is something here and I've not fallen entirely off track. I remember the story about how it was decided that a human voice would be the thing to call the believers to prayer five times a day. I think about how beautiful that is. Islam is such a communal religion. It is between the believer and Allah, yet there is such a deep sense of community and fellow humanity woven throughout it. It really is not a religion to be practiced alone.

What gets me is the beauty in his voice. I remember a class called "The Religion of Music" that I took in undergrad (I had some seriously awesome classes for undergrad) where the teacher talked briefly about how the melancholy overtones in Islamic recitation are about the soul longing to return to God. Perhaps that's a bit Sufi, but it's really stuck with me and when I hear adhans like this one it makes me pause and consider how it is to have that ache of longing for God transformed into such a beautiful vocal expression. It's then, when I'm disillusioned with my faith that I consider that there is something here. If this religion inspires such beauty... It can be so easy to get caught up in the things that trouble me about my faith that I sometimes harden my heart to its beauty. It is for this reason that I am grateful to Allah that Islam is truly shot through with beauty. May that beauty keep me soft and attentive to my Rab who is Beauty instead of seeing harshness and pain. May I join with my Prophet in praying Oh Allah! May I see things as they really are. Amin.

In my post, Why marriage? Issues for asexual Muslims seeking to legitimize non-sexual cross-sex relationships, I explored some reasons why a cross-sex asexual Muslim couple might wish to marry in order to legitimize a non-sexual relationship. The argument in that post is limited to the situation…

Thank you for this post—it’s something I spend a lot of time mulling over. I’m still figuring out where I fall on the ace spectrum. I know I fall on it, but I’m not sure exactly where—probably gray, probably homoromantic (I think I’m romantic… who knows^_~). I grew up thinking I was asexual because I was never attracted to anyone. Then I discovered that it was possible to be attracted to women (looking back I find it interesting that I knew asexual was an identity but not lesbian or queer) and had the difficult wait, am I sexual? soul search (ongoing). So I tried on the identity of lesbian for awhile and that was fine, but I still wasn’t interested in dating etc. However, I knew I was attracted to women, rather than men, in some capacity. A friend of mine told me of two co-workers of hers who lived together in a non-sexual relationship but were otherwise like a married couple, completely committed to each other, sharing a house, etc. I was astounded: that’s exactly what I wanted! But how to find a women who was interested in living this way? I kept it on the back burner.

Now that I’ve converted to Islam, marriage has moved to the forefront of my vision. As a new convert (just over a year) and as a woman and as someone in her late twenties, I am someone many in my community would like to find a husband for. I am grateful for their intention… and it also causes confusion and a lot of reflection/introspection and a lot of prayer on my end. Eyvallah. I find it beautiful that sex is so celebrated in Islam but very challenging as someone who is not overly interested in it and who is not attracted to men. What to do with marriage proposals or questions about marriage? Even if I were to keep a relationship with another asexual woman quiet, as in the “roommates” situation, there is still pressure to enter into a “proper” relationship. I know ace-muslim wrote a post on this a few months ago. Celibacy in Islam can be seen as going against the Sunnah or as being excessive in devotion. However, what if one is just not interested in marriage for whatever reason? I’m not avoiding marriage out of some sense of piety. I’m avoiding marriage because being in a sexual relationship with a man would be greatly detrimental to me. However, I do sometimes think I would like to be in an asexual relationship with another woman. While I am an introvert who has never dated and has been just find with that, I do like the idea of that stability and relationship in my life. Just not sex necessarily.

The way I understand the strong encouragement to marry is that it comes from the idea that most people do seek a sexual, romantic relationship. This is seen as the natural human condition. In this case, yes, it is great that Islam has such a high and beautiful view of marriage. There is no guilt in seeking sexual and emotional fulfillment in marriage—it is strongly encouraged, even! That is a wonderful contrast to other teachings where celibacy is the ideal and people can marry if they just can’t contain themselves. Put another way: since sex is a natural part of human life, we should not go against it—or our own natures—or make it out to be dirty or bad. We should sanctify it as the gift from God that it is. So… for those who are not interested in sex or who are sex repulsed or sex averse, wouldn’t it make sense that we should not marry, something that would cause us difficulty, out of a sense of piety and expectation in our religion? I don’t know if I’m making this clear, but what I mean to say is that Islam says over and over that it is not meant to be a hardship for the believer. Hence, the majority of the population who seek sexual fulfillment should do so. However, I think that should be extended for those who are asexual to say that if we do not seek sexual fulfillment, we should not be pressured into a relationship and should not be stigmatized for choosing not to marry.

However, what if we do desire some sort of partnership? What if we want a queer platonic relationship? In that case, yes, would having an agreement that one partner would take on the traditional role of the man and the other that of the woman make it more legitimate in the eyes of the community? Or is there no way for it to be considered a “real” marriage? What are the implications of that? I’m grateful for this post and the previous discussions and exploration of marriage in Islam for asexuals. I’ve had a lot of thoughts about it but haven’t been able to see what other asexual Muslims think on the matter. I look forward to more thought and discussion, insha’Allah.

I have searched quite a few times for Islam and asexuality, and I had found two rulings. This was one of them, but the other one seems to have disappeared off the face of the internet which is very frustrating. It cited a hadith in which a man came to Muhammad and asked him if he had to marry because he had no sexual desire, and the answer was no, it was not obligatory.

I really wish I could find it again…. It would help against the pressures of those who say you go against the sunnah by not acting out compulsory heterosexuality.

Salaams and thank you for this! That is incredibly helpful. It is also helpful to know that such a hadith exists. I will begin looking for it and if you do find it again, please let me know. And yes, that would be most helpful for those who say the only way to follow the sunnah in this regard is to be in a heterosexual marriage. Thank you for the link.

In my post, Why marriage? Issues for asexual Muslims seeking to legitimize non-sexual cross-sex relationships, I explored some reasons why a cross-sex asexual Muslim couple might wish to marry in order to legitimize a non-sexual relationship. The argument in that post is limited to the situation…

Thank you for this post—it’s something I spend a lot of time mulling over. I’m still figuring out where I fall on the ace spectrum. I know I fall on it, but I’m not sure exactly where—probably gray, probably homoromantic (I think I’m romantic… who knows^_~). I grew up thinking I was asexual because I was never attracted to anyone. Then I discovered that it was possible to be attracted to women (looking back I find it interesting that I knew asexual was an identity but not lesbian or queer) and had the difficult wait, am I sexual? soul search (ongoing). So I tried on the identity of lesbian for awhile and that was fine, but I still wasn’t interested in dating etc. However, I knew I was attracted to women, rather than men, in some capacity. A friend of mine told me of two co-workers of hers who lived together in a non-sexual relationship but were otherwise like a married couple, completely committed to each other, sharing a house, etc. I was astounded: that’s exactly what I wanted! But how to find a women who was interested in living this way? I kept it on the back burner.

Now that I’ve converted to Islam, marriage has moved to the forefront of my vision. As a new convert (just over a year) and as a woman and as someone in her late twenties, I am someone many in my community would like to find a husband for. I am grateful for their intention… and it also causes confusion and a lot of reflection/introspection and a lot of prayer on my end. Eyvallah. I find it beautiful that sex is so celebrated in Islam but very challenging as someone who is not overly interested in it and who is not attracted to men. What to do with marriage proposals or questions about marriage? Even if I were to keep a relationship with another asexual woman quiet, as in the “roommates” situation, there is still pressure to enter into a “proper” relationship. I know ace-muslim wrote a post on this a few months ago. Celibacy in Islam can be seen as going against the Sunnah or as being excessive in devotion. However, what if one is just not interested in marriage for whatever reason? I’m not avoiding marriage out of some sense of piety. I’m avoiding marriage because being in a sexual relationship with a man would be greatly detrimental to me. However, I do sometimes think I would like to be in an asexual relationship with another woman. While I am an introvert who has never dated and has been just find with that, I do like the idea of that stability and relationship in my life. Just not sex necessarily.

The way I understand the strong encouragement to marry is that it comes from the idea that most people do seek a sexual, romantic relationship. This is seen as the natural human condition. In this case, yes, it is great that Islam has such a high and beautiful view of marriage. There is no guilt in seeking sexual and emotional fulfillment in marriage—it is strongly encouraged, even! That is a wonderful contrast to other teachings where celibacy is the ideal and people can marry if they just can’t contain themselves. Put another way: since sex is a natural part of human life, we should not go against it—or our own natures—or make it out to be dirty or bad. We should sanctify it as the gift from God that it is. So… for those who are not interested in sex or who are sex repulsed or sex averse, wouldn’t it make sense that we should not marry, something that would cause us difficulty, out of a sense of piety and expectation in our religion? I don’t know if I’m making this clear, but what I mean to say is that Islam says over and over that it is not meant to be a hardship for the believer. Hence, the majority of the population who seek sexual fulfillment should do so. However, I think that should be extended for those who are asexual to say that if we do not seek sexual fulfillment, we should not be pressured into a relationship and should not be stigmatized for choosing not to marry.

However, what if we do desire some sort of partnership? What if we want a queer platonic relationship? In that case, yes, would having an agreement that one partner would take on the traditional role of the man and the other that of the woman make it more legitimate in the eyes of the community? Or is there no way for it to be considered a “real” marriage? What are the implications of that? I’m grateful for this post and the previous discussions and exploration of marriage in Islam for asexuals. I’ve had a lot of thoughts about it but haven’t been able to see what other asexual Muslims think on the matter. I look forward to more thought and discussion, insha’Allah.

Salaam! I’m glad that you found the post helpful. I don’t have any definitive answers but I’m hoping that the post can serve as a place to start for myself and for others who are thinking about these issues.

Alaykum salaam! I appreciate your detailed, thoughtful posts on all of this. Islam has its own advantages and disadvantages for its asexual members and it is lovely to hear articulate thoughts that are not my own about it. I don’t know that anything definitive will be coming any time soon, but indeed, it is good to have a place to start and a framework to play in.

One other thing you touched on in this post was the social roles expected of men and women. Do you know if there is writing done on how being queer impacts those? It’s something I ponder frequently. For example, as someone who is attracted to women, even if not sexually, should I see their hair or should I uncover in front of them? Should I pray touching them or behind them? Because Islam is so homosocial it’s another advantage/disadvantage for queer Muslims. There’s a lot to be unpacked there.

I haven’t seen anything specifically on this issue, though I may not just be looking in the right places. I expect that a lot of people might not follow this rule strictly even if they wanted to because they they would have to explain themselves and, in so doing, come out. There might be ways that you can be more careful than is typical, if you feel that the situation warrants it, without drawing attention to yourself or seeming out of place in a group. This is probably something that each queer Muslim needs to work out for themselves based on the types of attractions they experience, to whom, and how safe the situation they’re in is. I suppose it’s easier for me being aromantic since I’m not attracted to anybody and don’t really have to think about it.

Thank you! This is helpful. Peace and blessings, Sister.

In my post, Why marriage? Issues for asexual Muslims seeking to legitimize non-sexual cross-sex relationships, I explored some reasons why a cross-sex asexual Muslim couple might wish to marry in order to legitimize a non-sexual relationship. The argument in that post is limited to the situation…

Thank you for this post—it’s something I spend a lot of time mulling over. I’m still figuring out where I fall on the ace spectrum. I know I fall on it, but I’m not sure exactly where—probably gray, probably homoromantic (I think I’m romantic… who knows^_~). I grew up thinking I was asexual because I was never attracted to anyone. Then I discovered that it was possible to be attracted to women (looking back I find it interesting that I knew asexual was an identity but not lesbian or queer) and had the difficult wait, am I sexual? soul search (ongoing). So I tried on the identity of lesbian for awhile and that was fine, but I still wasn’t interested in dating etc. However, I knew I was attracted to women, rather than men, in some capacity. A friend of mine told me of two co-workers of hers who lived together in a non-sexual relationship but were otherwise like a married couple, completely committed to each other, sharing a house, etc. I was astounded: that’s exactly what I wanted! But how to find a women who was interested in living this way? I kept it on the back burner.

Now that I’ve converted to Islam, marriage has moved to the forefront of my vision. As a new convert (just over a year) and as a woman and as someone in her late twenties, I am someone many in my community would like to find a husband for. I am grateful for their intention… and it also causes confusion and a lot of reflection/introspection and a lot of prayer on my end. Eyvallah. I find it beautiful that sex is so celebrated in Islam but very challenging as someone who is not overly interested in it and who is not attracted to men. What to do with marriage proposals or questions about marriage? Even if I were to keep a relationship with another asexual woman quiet, as in the “roommates” situation, there is still pressure to enter into a “proper” relationship. I know ace-muslim wrote a post on this a few months ago. Celibacy in Islam can be seen as going against the Sunnah or as being excessive in devotion. However, what if one is just not interested in marriage for whatever reason? I’m not avoiding marriage out of some sense of piety. I’m avoiding marriage because being in a sexual relationship with a man would be greatly detrimental to me. However, I do sometimes think I would like to be in an asexual relationship with another woman. While I am an introvert who has never dated and has been just find with that, I do like the idea of that stability and relationship in my life. Just not sex necessarily.

The way I understand the strong encouragement to marry is that it comes from the idea that most people do seek a sexual, romantic relationship. This is seen as the natural human condition. In this case, yes, it is great that Islam has such a high and beautiful view of marriage. There is no guilt in seeking sexual and emotional fulfillment in marriage—it is strongly encouraged, even! That is a wonderful contrast to other teachings where celibacy is the ideal and people can marry if they just can’t contain themselves. Put another way: since sex is a natural part of human life, we should not go against it—or our own natures—or make it out to be dirty or bad. We should sanctify it as the gift from God that it is. So… for those who are not interested in sex or who are sex repulsed or sex averse, wouldn’t it make sense that we should not marry, something that would cause us difficulty, out of a sense of piety and expectation in our religion? I don’t know if I’m making this clear, but what I mean to say is that Islam says over and over that it is not meant to be a hardship for the believer. Hence, the majority of the population who seek sexual fulfillment should do so. However, I think that should be extended for those who are asexual to say that if we do not seek sexual fulfillment, we should not be pressured into a relationship and should not be stigmatized for choosing not to marry.

However, what if we do desire some sort of partnership? What if we want a queer platonic relationship? In that case, yes, would having an agreement that one partner would take on the traditional role of the man and the other that of the woman make it more legitimate in the eyes of the community? Or is there no way for it to be considered a “real” marriage? What are the implications of that? I’m grateful for this post and the previous discussions and exploration of marriage in Islam for asexuals. I’ve had a lot of thoughts about it but haven’t been able to see what other asexual Muslims think on the matter. I look forward to more thought and discussion, insha’Allah.

Salaam! I’m glad that you found the post helpful. I don’t have any definitive answers but I’m hoping that the post can serve as a place to start for myself and for others who are thinking about these issues.

Alaykum salaam! I appreciate your detailed, thoughtful posts on all of this. Islam has its own advantages and disadvantages for its asexual members and it is lovely to hear articulate thoughts that are not my own about it. I don't know that anything definitive will be coming any time soon, but indeed, it is good to have a place to start and a framework to play in.

One other thing you touched on in this post was the social roles expected of men and women. Do you know if there is writing done on how being queer impacts those? It's something I ponder frequently. For example, as someone who is attracted to women, even if not sexually, should I see their hair or should I uncover in front of them? Should I pray touching them or behind them? Because Islam is so homosocial it's another advantage/disadvantage for queer Muslims. There's a lot to be unpacked there.

In my post, Why marriage? Issues for asexual Muslims seeking to legitimize non-sexual cross-sex relationships, I explored some reasons why a cross-sex asexual Muslim couple might wish to marry in order to legitimize a non-sexual relationship. The argument in that post is limited to the situation...

Thank you for this post--it's something I spend a lot of time mulling over. I'm still figuring out where I fall on the ace spectrum. I know I fall on it, but I'm not sure exactly where—probably gray, probably homoromantic (I think I'm romantic... who knows^_~). I grew up thinking I was asexual because I was never attracted to anyone. Then I discovered that it was possible to be attracted to women (looking back I find it interesting that I knew asexual was an identity but not lesbian or queer) and had the difficult wait, am I sexual? soul search (ongoing). So I tried on the identity of lesbian for awhile and that was fine, but I still wasn't interested in dating etc. However, I knew I was attracted to women, rather than men, in some capacity. A friend of mine told me of two co-workers of hers who lived together in a non-sexual relationship but were otherwise like a married couple, completely committed to each other, sharing a house, etc. I was astounded: that's exactly what I wanted! But how to find a women who was interested in living this way? I kept it on the back burner.

Now that I've converted to Islam, marriage has moved to the forefront of my vision. As a new convert (just over a year) and as a woman and as someone in her late twenties, I am someone many in my community would like to find a husband for. I am grateful for their intention… and it also causes confusion and a lot of reflection/introspection and a lot of prayer on my end. Eyvallah. I find it beautiful that sex is so celebrated in Islam but very challenging as someone who is not overly interested in it and who is not attracted to men. What to do with marriage proposals or questions about marriage? Even if I were to keep a relationship with another asexual woman quiet, as in the "roommates" situation, there is still pressure to enter into a "proper" relationship. I know ace-muslim wrote a post on this a few months ago. Celibacy in Islam can be seen as going against the Sunnah or as being excessive in devotion. However, what if one is just not interested in marriage for whatever reason? I'm not avoiding marriage out of some sense of piety. I'm avoiding marriage because being in a sexual relationship with a man would be greatly detrimental to me. However, I do sometimes think I would like to be in an asexual relationship with another woman. While I am an introvert who has never dated and has been just find with that, I do like the idea of that stability and relationship in my life. Just not sex necessarily.

The way I understand the strong encouragement to marry is that it comes from the idea that most people do seek a sexual, romantic relationship. This is seen as the natural human condition. In this case, yes, it is great that Islam has such a high and beautiful view of marriage. There is no guilt in seeking sexual and emotional fulfillment in marriage—it is strongly encouraged, even! That is a wonderful contrast to other teachings where celibacy is the ideal and people can marry if they just can’t contain themselves. Put another way: since sex is a natural part of human life, we should not go against it—or our own natures—or make it out to be dirty or bad. We should sanctify it as the gift from God that it is. So… for those who are not interested in sex or who are sex repulsed or sex averse, wouldn’t it make sense that we should not marry, something that would cause us difficulty, out of a sense of piety and expectation in our religion? I don’t know if I’m making this clear, but what I mean to say is that Islam says over and over that it is not meant to be a hardship for the believer. Hence, the majority of the population who seek sexual fulfillment should do so. However, I think that should be extended for those who are asexual to say that if we do not seek sexual fulfillment, we should not be pressured into a relationship and should not be stigmatized for choosing not to marry.

However, what if we do desire some sort of partnership? What if we want a queer platonic relationship? In that case, yes, would having an agreement that one partner would take on the traditional role of the man and the other that of the woman make it more legitimate in the eyes of the community? Or is there no way for it to be considered a “real” marriage? What are the implications of that? I’m grateful for this post and the previous discussions and exploration of marriage in Islam for asexuals. I’ve had a lot of thoughts about it but haven’t been able to see what other asexual Muslims think on the matter. I look forward to more thought and discussion, insha’Allah.

Tonight was really a challenge. As I drove home I felt like maybe I was seeing an unrealistic idea of how my life would play out as a Muslim. I felt angry that someone would point that out even if it was unintentional. I felt like I would wake up one day and realize this wasn’t my path and I maybe…

I’m still figuring tumblr out so forgive me if this is not how you do this and please tell me if you’d like this taken down and I will do so immediately… but I just wanted to say I can really relate to this. As someone who wasn’t intending to convert to Islam who was once an atheist, who often wishes for a simpler faith but who has left religion in the past and fears leaving it again but above all wants to live in surrender and relationship to my Creator and Beloved, no matter what that looks like… it’s hard. I both knew and didn’t know what I was signing up for when I converted. I still don’t know. I converted because I couldn’t not more than because I wanted to. I wasn’t ready to be a Muslim but I couldn’t not live my life seeking surrender to God. 

I was at a zikr last night and the sheikh (my sheikh?) talked about how on Hajj he saw people who sometimes had such a sincere faith. They weren’t metaphorically walking around God’s house—they were walking around God’s house. He said he sometimes thinks he would trade all his degrees for that sort of faith. I agree—having that faith seems like such a gift. Then I wonder: what can I, one who is jaded and who cannot unthink the cynical thoughts I’ve had, bring to this faith? What is the faith of one who has these doubts and who cannot simply believe? But there is God, as you say, and there is not a moment that I would reject the Shahada. No, those words are dear even if my faith is confusing and confused. Then I remember the mercy of my Beloved and pray, as Rilke says, that I may once again find “the eyes with which I once beheld You”. Insha’Allah.

Thank you for writing this. It’s good to know I’m not alone in this struggle and that even those who doubt are still deeply committed to this path and this faith. Sometimes I think we need to hear more about doubt—I think we all doubt. That doesn’t mean we’re straying but it can feel that way if we don’t talk about it, if we keep it secret. This post actually adds strength to my resolve to stay in this faith. Thank you and alhamdulillah! 

First off Alhamdulillah for you becoming a Muslim. Peace and blessing from Allah be with you forever amen. I completely agree with you about speaking about our doubts. One of the reasons I left Catholicism in the first place was because I felt discouraged from asking questions. I couldn’t understand who I was even praying to, was it Jesus pbuh or was it God ? I know in my heart I love Jesus pbuh. But who was the Father?? And now when I have questions I seek answers and find them and that’s why I love Islam so much! I’m told to always pray when I have doubts, and it actually works. But when I first tried it didn’t, I don’t know what I was even saying in Arabic! How can my heart connect to sounds I don’t even know? So don’t ever let anyone make you feel bad for your struggle. It is between you an Allah swt only and only your faith can get you thru it. Sometimes I see people go from 0 to nikab in weeks, and I’m floored by that. I mean mashallah for them that’s great, but I just don’t know how it’s done. It had taken me months to even visit masjid, it had taken me a year to even tell my best friend who I’ve known for 10 years. I think every part of it so much that sometimes I can’t sleep. That’s just my way. And you have yours so we just grasp a hold of what keeps us close to Allah and hang on for dear life. And when we falter or fall, we have to get back up and grab hold once again. We all have doubts I think, and anyone who doesn’t recognize those doubts is fooling themselves and may end up crashing really hard one day when reality comes seeking recognition unless we acknowledge and work though them now.

Amin. And with you, insha'Allah. Thank you for this and alhamdulillah. That is another thing I deeply appreciate about Islam--that it is between the soul and the Creator and it is not for us to judge. I have to remember this both for myself and for how I see others--only Allah knows. Mevlana Jalaladdin Rumi's words come to mind--that there are a thousand ways to kneel and kiss the ground. Every soul has its own path to God, insha'Allah, doubts and bumps included. It took me months to visit a masjid, too, and many people in my life still don't know. I keep remembering that we are to trust the unfolding and move forward little by little, insha'Allah, little by little. The blessings of Allah on and with you, Sister, and thank you for your words.

Tonight was really a challenge. As I drove home I felt like maybe I was seeing an unrealistic idea of how my life would play out as a Muslim. I felt angry that someone would point that out even if it was unintentional. I felt like I would wake up one day and realize this wasn’t my path and I maybe...

I'm still figuring tumblr out so forgive me if this is not how you do this and please tell me if you'd like this taken down and I will do so immediately... but I just wanted to say I can really relate to this. As someone who wasn't intending to convert to Islam who was once an atheist, who often wishes for a simpler faith but who has left religion in the past and fears leaving it again but above all wants to live in surrender and relationship to my Creator and Beloved, no matter what that looks like... it's hard. I both knew and didn't know what I was signing up for when I converted. I still don't know. I converted because I couldn't not more than because I wanted to. I wasn't ready to be a Muslim but I couldn't not live my life seeking surrender to God. 

I was at a zikr last night and the sheikh (my sheikh?) talked about how on Hajj he saw people who sometimes had such a sincere faith. They weren't metaphorically walking around God's house--they were walking around God's house. He said he sometimes thinks he would trade all his degrees for that sort of faith. I agree--having that faith seems like such a gift. Then I wonder: what can I, one who is jaded and who cannot unthink the cynical thoughts I've had, bring to this faith? What is the faith of one who has these doubts and who cannot simply believe? But there is God, as you say, and there is not a moment that I would reject the Shahada. No, those words are dear even if my faith is confusing and confused. Then I remember the mercy of my Beloved and pray, as Rilke says, that I may once again find "the eyes with which I once beheld You". Insha'Allah.

Thank you for writing this. It's good to know I'm not alone in this struggle and that even those who doubt are still deeply committed to this path and this faith. Sometimes I think we need to hear more about doubt--I think we all doubt. That doesn't mean we're straying but it can feel that way if we don't talk about it, if we keep it secret. This post actually adds strength to my resolve to stay in this faith. Thank you and alhamdulillah!