During April, I worked on many projects. I’m working on:

• a Nottingham Zine for Palestine Volume Two (Volume One is available to read for free online);

• a zine meant to fundraise and raise awareness of Sudan called Devils on Stallions (it’s the one that I’ve put the most time into this montht, but this stage is only legible to me so it didn’t make it to the collage);

• plein air painting;

• conceptual sketches for different projects (what could they be, I wonder?!),

• and, of course, researching the Algerian Genocide (when I research it, I both want to stop from how distressing and intellectually demanding it is, but also I feel like I have to do it, and at the best of my abilities too).

Being Intentional About The Philosophy Behind My Art

After having social science professors look over my art, I realised that art is so much more than just the visual technique. There is a social science, philosophy, and psychology behind what is communicated.

• This fact is one of the reasons that I am very hesitant to share projects for Palestine that I have previously completed, even though I completed them to the best of my artistic and political abilities at the time. These projects include The Soul of my Soul, and my contribution to the collaborative A Nottingham Zine for Palestine Volume One. If it was just that my artistic skills had moved on, I would be able to showcase them more.

  But, at the time, I was deeply inspired by general artwork that I see around about Palestine (also I was moderately depressed and severely anxious when I made them), so the colours were muted and a bit… well… lifeless.

  But when I compare this visual depiction to how Palestinians depict themselves, it’s a completely different story. Sliman Mansour, Irina and Maher Naji, so many Palestinian artists. They use beautiful colours, and sometimes also dull ones, but in a multifaceted way rather than one that reeks of “Palestine is a desert and Israel made it bloom” (and, of course, desert is used pejoratively by colonisers who are not indigenous to the desert, and hold nothing but scorn for non-European landscapes).

  I’m a big believer in centring Palestinian voices, and I’ve recently learned that that includes visually. I’ve also learned to analyse the visual just as much as I do the written.

  

• I have also been trying to analyse the philosophical dimensions behind characters, their clothing, their architecture, and so on. For example, with clothing, many Muslim-majority countries’ clothes have a strong presence of floral motifs because of the belief that is dominant in many Sunni cultures that depicting living beings is haraam (Islamically forbidden). For a deep analysis of Islamic philosophy, I recommend this series by Abbas on Substack- the meaning behind geometric patterns prevalent in Islamic art suddenly make sense!). Another example is with architecture. One conceptual sketch is inspired by The Six Grandfathers mountain in Turtle Island which was considered sacred by indigenous people. European settlers carved the faces of the Founding Fathers onto it, much like the owner of cattle would inhumanely brand a cow. It really reflects a sense of ownership and sovereignty in regards to land and generally. So I’m trying to think about these questions more in worldbuilding.

Juggling Multiple Projects

I wanted to do a project about Sudan that not only fundraised, but also was a true ode to its people. But then my art skills developed and so the project has taken a lot longer than anticipated to complete to the level that I aspire to.

I’m also deeply honoured to be illustrating Uncle Adeeb Shaheen’s reflections of his resistance and solitary confinement during the First Intifada (depicted in the middle panel and to the right in the collage). I really could learn from his insight forever!

These two are completely charitable works, but then I’ve realised that I need to also tell stories of other projects that I’ve wanted to tell for a while.

Friends and family often get surprised and even treat me like a miskeena (poor thing) when I mention that I make zero money off of my fundraisers and that they entirely go to charity. It comes from a place of caring about me, but it makes me deeply uncomfortable! I consider it a true honour to raise awareness and fundraise for these causes, and also I view it as a blessed thing to engage in. :)

In Islamic belief, the duaa (call to Allah) of the oppressed has no barrier between them and Allah. Usually this is understood as “don’t oppress in case they make duaa against you”. But I have learned other interpretations through experience. I have a friend in Gaza who is a true inspiration to me having interacted with her closely, and no less in her critical moment that none of us can imagine going through. She made duaa for me and when I tell you all of my own troubles began to make sense and I finally experienced relieved (relevant to the next section)! Maybe that hadith about the duaa of the oppressed also means that when someone is oppressed, that trying your best to alleviate their oppression, however modest your capabilities may be, will come back to you in strange ways.

On juggling many projects, I’m a bit of a workaholic. I think it comes from seeing my family working so hard. I think that’s where my allergy to rest comes from, even though I have medical reasons to rest.

I Started EMDR

Hence my rants on notes, which I often delete… Because logically I’ve moved on from my trauma, but with certain triggers, I’m back to old, binary thought patterns that may have made sense in that specific case years ago, but don’t anymore. I’m trying my best not to be contagious with negativity.

So many friends and kind people online have sent me best wishes, and even offered to listen when I need it. But I respectfully declined on the second point because these things are contagious, and I’ve learned enough coping mechanisms now. It’s different to when the trauma just happened. I try my best to manage my own triggers now. But, at the same time, it’s just been so heartwarming to receive the outpouring of kind messages wishing me well with this therapy. Tl;dr I’m rich. :)

I’ve been reflecting on what it means for someone to be kind.

It’s a sentiment that I see often (and it associates not asserting the majority of boundaries with selfishness and weakness). I have to say that I disagree with it. I view this definition as individualistic and a Eurocentric generalisation.

I come from a collectivist culture shaped by Islamic belief. In this culture, there is a concept called taghaaful. It’s where you consciously and intentionally pretend not to notice when someone phrases something awkwardly, where someone steps on your toes a little. This practice is rooted in the reality of having to live closely with others, but also in the acknowledgement of your own fallibility, and your ability to step on others’ toes.

(This taghaaful isn’t the same thing as enabling abuse- which occurs in individualistic cultures too, for the record).

When you pretend not to notice disrespect from others as someone from a collectivist culture, it’s something you practice on autopilot. You don’t really grasp the philosophical frameworks underpinning it and different frameworks that underpin different modes of thinking and interpretation.

So it was a culture shock for me growing up in the UK when my pretending not to notice would invite targeted abuse in a way that I did not feel in my (admittedly shorter time) in collectivist cultures.

I’ve realised that the problem was a difference of interpretation. Unfortunately within an individualist culture, feigning ignorance was more likely to be interpreted as weakness, and therefore invited abuse in a way that didn’t seem to be the case so far for me in the new culture that I live in where there are other possible interpretations.

Sure, racism is part of it (abused, passive North African woman). But it’s not entirely that- it’s a difference in philosophical frameworks. This targeted abuse in the UK reduced when I unlearned taghaaful, although my phenotype remained the same.

That’s why I am a little wary of the definition of kindness that differentiates kindness and being nice. I prefer this definition:

STRICTLY, PLEASE ENSURE MEDICAL CONSULTATION AND SUPERVISION BEFORE MAKING CHANGES TO YOUR MEDICAL OR PHYSICAL/MENTAL HEALTH PLAN. THIS POST IS JUST ABOUT MY PERSONAL JOURNEY AND REFLECTIONS SO FAR, AND WHAT HAS WORKED *SO FAR* IN MY CIRCUMSTANCES.

Summary

Never change your medical or health plan without professional guidance and supervision.

I’m not a doctor or psychologist. My specialities are genetics then international relations.

This post shares reflections from my journey, and is not all there is to be said.

Everyone’s journey is individual based on their history and circumstances. These histories and journeys inform their diagnosis, recovery, and recommendations.

My history and circumstances were of chronic stress over years and my psychosis symptoms persisted in cooccurrence with that chronic stress. This contrasts with psychosis symptoms happening with one, big, horrific incident, and having the space to leave in a few months.

Psychiatry can be old-school vs new-school. The former believes that psychosis overwhelmingly means taking medication for the rest of your life and considers therapy not to be helpful in psychosis recovery. The latter places more hope on recovery and understands the importance of therapy.

While it can contribute to severe mental illness and other illnesses, I believe that genetics is overstated as a factor. The environment can also be causative, and not a mere trigger. Genetic susceptibility is not black and white. We are all more genetically susceptible to some illnesses and less so others. The same people can go through the same stress and develop different outcomes. I believe that there is an element of genetic susceptibility in what the outcome is. However, to claim that illness is inevitable is to the interests of pharmaceutical companies that fund research across a variety of fields. This genetic research is often methodologically questionable. I haven’t looked at scientific research in other fields like neuroscience, biology, and so on.

However, medication helped me move on from trauma, excel in my studies, rebuild social relationships, and stop living under the shadow of the past. Medication compliance is important- never stop them cold-turkey. It’ll damage your brain.

Antipsychotics have side effects. They’re considered physically unhealthy.

You can ask your doctor to change to a more tolerable medication, although it will take time for your body to adapt to the new one. Side effects may turn up in the transition period that won’t later on once your body settles down with the new one.

Try to be patient with the medication. There’s always good in what may seem bad, and bad in what may seem good.

Never change your medication dosage without medical supervision. I reduced my medication by splitting the 5mg tablet and alternating dosages on different days. The exact method is outlined in the article and is to taper off your body from the drug. This tapering is to reduce the impact of withdrawal. Withdrawal symptoms can be increased by many factors, like psychological trauma. Implement a support plan for yourself as you reduce. Alternating dosages may exacerbate side effect.

Therapy helps with psychosis. There are different types of therapy.

Physical health impacts mental health.

Reading Qur’an and memorising it has helped with my recovery. I don’t believe in exorcism.

There is likely a lot more to discuss that isn’t relevant to my specific experience.

Why I’m Writing This Post

I’ve always been open about my psychosis recovery just because I don’t view it as something to be ashamed of- the same way as if I had diabetes. Although that openness has come with challenges, I have also had friends tell me that my openness has increased their awareness about psychiatric illness. Which I love.

As I have gotten better and further into my recovery journey, friends who are earlier in their recovery have asked me questions as someone who’d been there, done that. Often, they would mention that they’d hesitated to reach out so as not to burden me.

So I just thought to compile a summary of my reflections in this article. Maybe it will help someone.

My Limits

I’m not a doctor or a psychologist.

However, at the same time, I am not ignorant about biology, or the impact of politics and economics on understandings of health. My specialities are a bachelor level understanding of human genetics, and a master level understanding of, what was in practice, the field of international relations.

So I’m not equipped to provide medical advice, least of blanket advice that isn’t specialised to the individual’s history and multifaceted circumstances. But I can share my reflections as they relate to my personal history and circumstances.

My Personal Background

The causes of my psychosis were chronic low- to high-level stress, so my symptoms lasted longer than if it had been an extreme but singular event with space to recover after the fact. These longer-lasting symptoms meant that I was initially told that I had paranoid schizophrenia and that I would take medication for the rest of my life.

But then I was blessed to have an amazing doctor who had hope for mentally ill people, and was aware of the social context of health.

She said that my case was ambiguous, and that she would diagnose me with psychosis and see whether the cause was schizophrenia or depression when the time to reduce medication came.

Nature vs Nurture

After my diagnosis, I wrote my essay about the causes of schizophrenia.

Most things are substantially genetic.

That was what I walked away thinking after reading the orthodoxy within the field from prestigious journals like Nature. This orthodoxy claimed that schizophrenia was overwhelmingly genetically caused and that the environment is merely a trigger. I had trouble aligning that hegemonic consensus with my experiences, and it felt like a further burial of my reality.

Yet, many of the older studies were methodologically questionable. And the newer ones? Simply associative- we all know that association does not equal causation.

Years later, I rewrote an article on what is called schizophrenia, this time taking into account how social factors inform science (if I could rewrite it, then I would take into account the role of thoughts and mindset, i.e. psychology).

Such social factors include the intertwinement of old methods with eugenics, and new methods with pharmaceutical funding.

I wouldn’t trust a pharmaceutical company directly telling me how I’m just genetically messed up, and should cough up for their drugs for the rest of my life now. Equally, I don’t trust scientists funded by those same companies.

Reflections On Medication

• Medication has its place

I have always complied with medication because stopping your medication cold-turkey can damage your brain. Never reduce except with medical supervision and guidance.

Medication has strong benefits. With medication, my mental health improved, I excelled in my studies, and reformed my social relationships.

It helped me move on.

• It has side effects though

Psychosis medication is strongly associated with metabolic illness, i.e. poor physical health. While association does not prove causation, I definitely noticed that when I began taking medication, I put on weight with less food and was hungrier. And as I now reduce a (mild) medication, I notice that I am less hungry, put on weight less easily, and am more energetic.

You can ask your doctor to change your medication if your current one is too intolerable. But they all have side effects. You have to be patient- it’s a good trait to have. C’est la vie.

There is also a case to be made for psychological and behavioural reasons for the poor physical health associated with severe psychiatric illnesses like psychosis (comfort eating, not cooking nutritious food, hormone changes from stress, and so on).

But it was clear to me that there was a causal component, and I decided to take the medication but only as much as I needed. My open minded doctor told me that we could try reducing completely.

• When reduction time came- i.e. answering the post title

I was patient with the side effects and eventually, after much professional therapy, it was time to reduce.

Initially, I reduced the way those who were on medication for only six months reduced, even though I’d been on the medication for years. That is by reducing 5mg every two months. It worked for the first 5mg reduction, but in the second I became unwell. I had to pause.

I thought that I was relapsing. But there is emerging medical advice that the symptoms that come with reduction could be either relapse of illness or withdrawal symptoms as your body adjusts to absence of drugs. And it’s not clear which is which without time.

Psychological Considerations

It is absurd to me when I hear psychiatrists claiming that therapy and the power of thoughts and attitudes don’t help with psychosis. This absurdity is especially when there is evidence of thoughts and attitudes impacting physical health, let alone the explicitly mental. The suggestion is also contradictory to my experience.

The subconscious is a strange and mostly unseen place.

There are different kinds of therapy. Do your research on them according to what may help in your specific scenario. Here is my non-expert understanding of some of them:

• Cognitive Behavioural Therapy helps challenge negative thought patterns- I found it helpful in removing the negative. There is a CBT-grounded self-help series of books which I found helpful for residual negative thoughts that persisted after my professional sessions. I wouldn’t recommend self-help for deeply traumatised people as the reactions to triggers can be quite strong.

• Psychotherapy is a talking therapy that goes deep into the subconscious, compared to counselling which is a shallow form of support.

• Eye-movement desensitisation is a form of therapy that helps you process unprocessed memories. It’s helpful for PTSD.

The point is there are so many therapies. I would recommend making notes in sessions, and applying techniques to make yourself emotionally independent once the sessions are over.

Physical Considerations

Managing side effects

Apart from general advice on eating nutritious food, exercising, sleeping enough, and so on, I believe that intermittent fasting is very helpful. I do dry fasts (Islamic ones). I avoid water fasts let alone two week fasts. If you feel like you need two weeks of not eating to manage physical side effects then maybe the root cause isn’t your insulin level (like psychological triggers, for instance).

Dry fasts exacerbate my anxiety when I am already feeling upset. There are some instances where I felt that these non-Ramadan fasts were too anxiety inducing or that maybe my body wasn’t reacting well to it, so I finished it (for religious reasons), then waited for the weather to cool or for my anxiety to reduce before trying again.

However, the keto diet physiologically mimics fasting, and has been demonstrated to heal treatment-resistant schizophrenics and help them come off of their medications. When the diet was stopped, the symptoms returned. The point is fasting has a lot of health benefits including mental clarity once you get used to it.

Sometimes, there are medical reasons not to fast. Please speak to your doctor.

Spirituality

I try to consistently do bitesize, Islamic practices daily. I definitely notice the difference when I don’t read my morning 15 pages of Qur’an. I don’t know why.

A secular version of a contemplative practice might be meditation- that is actually better evidenced in what I’ve seen of the scientific literature (in English). I try to stay away from quacks like Joe Dispenza.

On exorcism

Exorcism is a superstition that was put on steroids for Muslims because we were colonised and made illiterate, so couldn’t explain things scientifically.

At the same time, Europeans colonising and enslaving non-Europeans and Black people respectively propelled the Western industrialisation and scientific and technological revolutions.

Conclusion

I hate to tell people what to do. I’m not a doctor or a psychologist. But these are just reflections of my own journey. If I was economically challenged, or didn’t have supportive family and friends, this post may look different.

I find many White converts oppressive.

Yes.

I do.

Yet, despite my frustrations, I want better for the Muslim community in its diversity. So please bear with me. I hope that this post can open a constructive dialogue.

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What Do I Find Oppressive?

I often encounter a White Saviour complex/civilising undertones varnished with the gloss of religiosity. Further, many White converts’ understanding of discourse on Muslims is often from a strictly religious perspective, stripping away the cultural, political, economic, and historical context. This reductive understanding leads to

This framing is not entirely their fault. Born Muslims have a role in nurturing this dynamic. What was once a whiff of racial bias or an innocent and well-intentioned question about child-marriage/gender-issues/arab-supremacy/xyz is injected with steroids by a well-meaning Uncle. This Uncle usually believes that anti-Muslim hate is simply a misunderstanding that 🌈strategic dialogue🌈 will resolve.

This post is anecdotal because this is a very niche topic. But, hey, expecting statistics to verify something before we discuss it is elitist. Riddle me this- does an untrue reality become true at the point that statistics document it? (And are statistics neutral?)

But Let’s Not Get Ahead Of Ourselves

The struggles that converts face are well-documented. This post is not about speaking for them- they can and have articulated their experiences far better than I could.

To be absolutely clear:

• Converts are original thinkers. They are not living on cultural autopilot. We don’t know if we would be Muslim had we not been born into it. And I mean this about all converts, not just the posh, Western European types that we like to treat as the solution to all of our problems.

• Converts experience alienation within their Muslim and within their non-Muslim cultural communities.

• Converts, including White ones, experience anti-Muslim hate. They experience hate crimes, accusations of betrayal, and family rejection- or, at best, permanently altered family relationships.

• Converts are not ‘less Muslim’ than born Muslims. I deeply dislike the Arab and South Asian sense of ownership over Islam. May Allah protect us from ever wishing that someone leaves or doesn’t enter Islam because they said something hurtful.

Arab and South Asian born Muslims can be oppressive too.

In essence, I am situating this discussion in the dynamic that White converts face- dynamics that are not the same as a regular shmegular non-Muslim English person. That difference matters.

The Experiences Aren’t The Same

Imagine this exchange:

Toxic, no?

So can someone please, for the love of the AlMighty, explain why I have experienced many dynamics along these lines:

When we say that Muslims’ experiences differ based on ethnicity, we are not hierarchising suffering. We are naming difference. Refusing to acknowledge that difference obstructs understanding and solutions.

The White Convert’s Burden

If I hear someone- usually outside the stigmatised culture- claim that child marriage, domestic violence, bad treatment of women, and so on are ‘culture, not religion’, I’ll…probably gently correct it… but I’ll mentally judge the person too. Be careful- my face has subtitles.

Non-Western Muslims are usually victims of the economic and political foreign policies of Europe and the U.S.A. These non-European victims of empire exist at the nexus of imperial propaganda and the consequences of that imperialism and colonialism, be it old-school or new-school. We shouldn’t be throwing victims of our luxury under the bus with these reductive responses.

This white saviour complex can also manifest in weaponising issues of Black dignity and using them to treat Arabs and South Asians as backwards. In so doing, harming both those that they treat as backwards, but also the Black people that they tokenise.

It takes a special kind of talent to be a racist anti-racist.

A Note on Tone

A quick flick through my blog will show you that I am usually sharper in tone when discussing personal oppression. I’ve deliberately softened my tone here to reflect my sincere attempt at constructive dialogue. One that doesn’t punch at a structurally and socially unsupported demographic. I’ve decided not to get into personal examples- they are neither here nor there. I’m speaking about attitudes, and I hope that this article can be constructive rather than damaging.

In the UK, being told that you’ve done something racist is considered the ultimate character insult. It causes defensiveness and denial. But, as someone who experiences racism and anti-Muslim hate, it’s usually the denial that causes damage. No one is perfect, including me.

The difference is in what comes next:

Do you learn and grow?

…Or do you make others suffer for valuing you enough to be honest and candid?

About a week and a half ago, my mum sent me a post challenging me not to say anything negative about anything or anyone for a week. I learned more in that week than I did from many sessions of therapy and counselling.

The First Step Is Acknowledging the Problem

When I began the challenge, I expected that the no negativity challenge would be reserved for moments where I remembered difficult experiences. But I soon realised (and am still unearthing) how deep my negativity habits were ingrained in me.

So much so that it took this challenge for me to see those habits at all. There was:

• the anxiety and depressing thoughts over things that had long passed from years ago.

• the self-deprecating humour.

• the complaining small talk.

• the presenting of feedback as critique. This negative feedback contrasts with acknowledging the positive and presenting areas of improvement in a way that centres the other’s growth.

Where Does This Negativity Come From?

Recently, I had a conversation with a Palestinian sister from Gaza for a project about centring Palestinian voices and experiences. I was struck that throughout the entire conversation, she would assert and reassert that she was disclosing her experiences, “not to complain”. She was disclosing her experiences so that people would know what had happened.

So… where does this negativity come from? The answer that Westerners are taught is that it is a result of difficult experiences. These experiences cause our brain to look for the negative in anticipation to keep us safe.

The Power Of Thoughts

But that doesn’t explain why my grandad is happy-go-lucky, even though he survived the Algerian Genocide during the Algerian Revolution. Contrastingly, I was unhappy (before this challenge), in spite of having an incomparably easier upbringing and similar genetics. I’ve spent enough time with my grandad to see this refusal to “complain” manifested in his day-to-day. I am sure that the Palestinian sister also lives this dignity despite having survived unimaginable horror.

My belief is that Western psychology was a materialist field until recently. It denied the existence of free will, and so deterministically reduced us to our circumstances. Our genetic lottery and environmental upbringing.

So, the thoughts that we choose are not of much interest.

Now there is evidence within the positive psychology field demonstrating the power of thoughts in predicting your wellbeing (however, I remain sceptical of associative studies as final evidence… or of denying the impact of the environment and genetics altogether).

Why I Partook In The Challenge

In Islam, shukr (gratitude) is a highly praised quality. So much so that some have defined kufr (literally, burial of the truth) as denying Allah’s favours, subhanahu wa ta’ala.

وَإِذْ تَأَذَّنَ رَبُّكُمْ لَئِن شَكَرْتُمْ لَأَزِيدَنَّكُمْ ۖ وَلَئِن كَفَرْتُمْ إِنَّ عَذَابِى لَشَدِيدٌۭ

And when your Lord proclaimed, ‘If you are grateful, I will surely increase you; but if you deny, indeed, My punishment is severe.’”

Surah Abraham, ayah 7

So I want to be grateful as a way of being close to my Creator, rather than because science increasingly suggests that it helps me in my brain and happiness. I tried to make gratitude lists. I recently am trying to remember the positives in people. But both felt like an uphill battle in my gratitude journey. This week taught me that ingratitude undoes gratitude.

It’s Dior without deodorant.

Abu Sa’eed narrated that the Messenger of Allah said: “Whoever is not grateful to the people, he is not grateful to Allah.”

Jami` at-Tirmidhi 1955

I’m still learning and new to positivity, so much so that I feel a little undeserving to share ayahs and hadiths. But Islamic teachings are an important part of the motivations of my journey, more than scientific evidence.

How It Went

Since starting the challenge, I’ve noticed a shift into a positive mindset, better emotional regulation, and better relationships. I believe that such positivity exercises should be integrated into therapies for people with mental illness.

[Warning: This post briefly discusses sexual abuse.]

Okay, so maybe the title lacks nuance- we live in an attention economy.

Therapy has immense benefits. It helps us glimpse the iceberg of the mind that is submerged in the waters of the subconscious. It helps us get our lives back on track. Many therapists are incredible people doing emotionally taxing job, often going the extra mile for their clients. The last thing I would want to do is spit in their face after they extended their hand and helped me onto my feet.

But just like we’re not perfect, neither are our therapists… or the field of psychology itself. It’s worth entering therapy with that awareness, so that we can discern what’s truly helpful from what might be unhelpful or even harmful.

Especially as someone from a racialised Muslim family in a Western context.

I don’t have a background in psychology, but I hope that I can open the conversation.

And maybe help someone.

Sometimes It’s Straight-Up Racism

I said it.

As an undergraduate, I once told a university counsellor that a male colleague (non-Muslim, mixed Pakistani-White heritage) had responded to my lack of interest in him by bullying me. He insulted my appearance, thrust his hips, made inappropriate noises in that vein- then stroked my thigh.

For those less versed in the law, touching someone without consent in sexual areas of their body or with sexual intent is legally considered to be a sexual assault. It’s criminal.

The counsellor kept their frozen smile in place, but their eyes weren’t smiling.

“That’s normal in our culture.”

Yes, you read that correctly. Apparently stroking thighs- the famously nonsexual part of the body- are just part of friendly exchange. Especially when accompanied by hip-thrusting. The area of the body so famously nonsexual that products completely unrelated to women’s thighs totally don’t use women’s thighs to sell them.

The counsellor framed my sexual assault as a cultural misunderstanding.

I’ll spare you the tedious details of the discrimination that followed in future sessions. But this racial bias and White solidarity had a role in me slipping through the net with the abuse that I was experiencing at the time and resultant psychosis.

This first session with a therapist was the first sign that something was not right about the psychology field.

It was the first sign that too much trust in the field could damage, rather than help.

Sometimes Its The Framework

Years later, I found a therapist who helped me immensely. She supported me through the aftermath of chronic, rabid racist abuse, and gave me invaluable insights. I’m deeply grateful to her.

Once, I told her about a misunderstanding that I’d had with a member of my family who’d supported me through my psychosis. She interpreted the misunderstanding as resentment and competitiveness on their part towards my illness.

I was shocked. Do people feel anything other than compassion towards their loved one who’s ill? I brushed it off. Until the situation with the family member repeated.

Her words echoed in my mind.

I internalised this perspective and things got worse between us.

After some reflection (and chamomile tea), something clicked.

Just as I had trauma and triggers from abuse and illness, my family member also carried trauma from watching me spiral. They had their own triggers.

I communicated with the family member and we resolved it. This perspective rooted in compassion and respect helped build understanding and resolve the situation. Whereas the well-meaning advice was rooted in a selfish and competitive framework. This Western individualistic lens didn’t fit my reality.

I Don’t Usually Share Moments of Family Tension

Algerian culture is shaped by Islam and collectivism. In Islam, spouses, and the family by extension, are like clothes to one another; covering each other’s flaws and beautifying one another. You’ll notice this principle of inner openness and outer privacy even within architecture.

So I really hesitated to share this story.

But it truly made me realise how even well-meaning advice can be harmful when given to someone with a different framework for life. I’ve seen racialised Muslims traumatised by structural racism end up hating their family that they got along with before. I don’t know the details of their cases, but I can easily imagine how Eurocentrism or racism may have contributed. Sometimes families don’t have the awareness or capability to support a traumatised family member or to navigate Eurocentric therapy, or even racist therapy.

That’s why I decided to share my experiences.

“Habibi, Be A Lawyer/Doctor/Engineer”

If I tried giving culturally sensitive advice to a Chinese person I wouldn’t be able to- because I’m an Algerian Muslim. Likewise, my English, non-Muslim therapist meant well. She tried to help within her capabilities. But, in this particular instance, her framework didn’t fit my worldview. In other cases, including the one mentioned with the university counsellor, racism is also a factor.

This is why culturally-informed and qualified counsellors or therapists are important.

(From my experience, this gap in the market is exploited by some, but that’s a different topic for another day).

Ultimately, therapy works best when we engage critically; take what’s good, and leave what isn’t so helpful.

Not Sorry To Blaspheme

I know what you’re thinking (if you’ve met me at least).

Afnan? Condemn Algerian culture?

I’m deeply in love with my culture- or at least the rose-tinted version of it I glean from my homesick parents, and my brief holidays around my extended family who love me anyway. Also, Pinterest.

An Algerian’s cultural background is the first thing they will share when you meet them.

The second thing is our resistance against the genocidal French settler colonialism, voices loud, accents pronounced, like a machine gun. Our histories woven into our very tongue.

The third thing will be about the weather.

Just to provide a glimpse into how writing the title of this article felt blasphemous to me.

The Drawbacks of Culture

‘I’m Algerian’

‘Ah nice. Do you speak French?’

Like many Algerians, I grew up with a resentment of the French language, which is the language of offices. As though Algeria was just an extension of Fr- oh wait. Dang it.

In Algeria’s educational system, the French language is prioritised compared to Modern Standard Arabic, and certainly over all forms of Tamazight. It is seen as the language of the the civilised modern . This conflation of French with progression is how you find political leaders like the previous Minister of National Education becoming a a laughing stock for her poor command of Modern Standard Arabic.

So, yes, it is natural to resist deriving my self-esteem and feeling of progressing from France. Just imagine upon meeting a Jewish person or Palestinian asking ‘ah great, do you speak German/Hebrew?’ as a way to break the ice. I digress, but the genocide of the Algerians is not taken seriously by many.

Yet, I took this resistance a step further and became hesitant to learn French at all until I ranted to a Palestinian uncle about it. He looked at me with judgement. Although I hadn’t fully expressed my reasoning, and my resistance to conflating French to my identity is justified, the moment made me reflect. Learning French is a means to access the historical archives of my own people.

So maybe I shouldn’t get carried away by the cultural tide of resistance against the French language… not completely carried away, in any case.

Khamsa wa Khmees

If you’re Algerian, you’re probably familiar with:

• Women being judged- as well as their families- based on how they dress.

• Hastily reciting your Quls before entering a wedding adorned in your gold and embroidery.

(The Quls are short chapters from the Qur’an asking Allah for protection. In Algerian culture, people recite them to ask Allah for protection from what is superstitiously believed to be the ability of an envious eye to curse the envied through the supernatural power of djinn. Yes, you read that right).

These beliefs are claimed to be Islamic, even though the conditions of hijab were commanded at a later period of Islamic revelation, and thus hijab is not the first or sole measure of a person’s religiosity. I say person because men also have hijab, though Arab culture rarely judges them for breaching it.

As for belief in evil eye and magic as supernatural realities of an invisible djinn with superpowers harming victims… I recently found out that many Islamic scholars interpret magic in a non-literal way. They interpret magic as being what is said for emotional manipulation for instance, or that potions would just be concoctions that have a physical impact on the body upon ingestion.

In other words: the reason behind your marital problems is probably your poor communication skills.

Not from Fatima (27, unmarried) who looked at you a bit too long in your wedding.

For the record: all cultures have whacky beliefs and customs. If you think yours doesn’t, it’s just because you’re blind to them.

When Culture Becomes Backwards

وَإِذْ قَالَ إِبْرَٰهِيمُ لِأَبِيهِ ءَازَرَ أَتَتَّخِذُ أَصْنَامًا ءَالِهَةً ۖ إِنِّىٓ أَرَىٰكَ وَقَوْمَكَ فِى ضَلَـٰلٍۢ مُّبِينٍۢ

And [mention, O Muḥammad], when Abraham said to his father Āzar, "Do you take idols as deities? Indeed, I see you and your people to be in manifest error."

Surah Al-An’am, ayah 74

Culture is beautifu;. I love couscous. I love shakshouka. I love our traditional arts.

But there comes a moment when you realise you’re living on autopilot- conforming to norms passed down from generations. Just because women were considered the honour of the family hundreds of years ago, or because during colonialism people were denied access to logical explanations for strange phenomena, exacerbating superstition. There are examples other than the French language, hijab, and magic (such as queer issues and others).

Muslims often take great inspiration from the Prophet Ibrahim, upon whom be peace, who questioned the idols of his society, even though it was his own father who made them and despite it being their livelihood.

In Islam, we consider the Qur’an to be the supreme guide on how to live, with the Prophet Muhammed’s (peace be upon him) sayings (hadith) as our second source. Qur’an interpretation and hadith authenticity are different questions.

But with my Islam, I know that my ground will always be solid, even if the landscape needs weeding once in a while.

If you’re the sort to question other people’s clothing choices, irrespective of your racial, religious, or clothing backgrounds, kindly this isn’t the space for you. We can talk about religious and philosophical reasonings until we’re blue in the face.

But, ultimately, that is neither here nor there.

Just as a niqabi questioning the clothing decisions of a woman in makeup looks intolerant rather than insightful, equally telling a hijabi minding her own business ‘the veil/abaya/niqab aren’t part of Islam’ or other such comments also make you look like an Australopithecus.

A moment of reflection

Today, I celebrated my hijab and abaya anniversaries!

I don’t know the exact dates that I chose to wear either. So I took a leaf out of my father’s book… or rather I should say from his birth certificate. Yes, my dad doesn’t know his birthday, as my Algerian culture is traditionally oral and also French colonialism caused widespread illiteracy in my country of origin, Algeria. According to my grandma, my dad’s birthday was “when the bean plant flowered”. He chose a date based on that.

I decided to do the same for my hijab and abaya anniversaries!

I committed to wearing hijab roughly around March 2006 aged 9… so I’ve chosen 26 March 2006 as my hijab anniversary!

I started wearing abaya at the end of the year 10 term, at the age of 14… so 7 May 2011 marks that milestone!

Initially, I wanted to focus only only on the positive aspects of wearing hijab, but pretending that significant challenges don’t exist is dishonest. However, the mindset with which we navigate those challenges makes all the difference.

So, here’s my hijab journey… unfiltered.

Hijab (yes, technically, it’s a khimar)

I chose to wear hijab full time aged 9 because I wanted Allah (swt) to be happy with me.

This decision was during the climate of the U.S.-led invasion of Afghanistan (in spite of propaganda of saving these poor Muslim women beaten into wearing the burqa, the invasion harmed Afghan women due to the US alliances, presence of troops, and politicisation of charity. The U.S. alliances even saw a comeback of the practice of bacha bazi).

Because of my hijab decision, the school years 2006-2007 were difficult. Kids are kids, but adults hold the power in managing the environment. I remember flagging the issues I experienced to the headteacher, and her first question was “But Afnan do you want to wear it”.

I lucidly remember not feeling hurt.

I did not feel hurt because I had idea why she would even think that. I remember the feeling of thinking nothing. Just feeling confusion.

So I firmly said “yes” and then tried to bring back the topic to the issue.

This was my first real exposure with the politicisation of hijab.

A symbol of values that grabbed the idols of capitalism, colonialism, and white supremacy and shook them.

An item of clothing which threatened the status quo by its very symbolic presence.

‘If you have to dress, live, and think like someone else for them to respect you, then they don’t respect you. They respect themselves.’

My decision to wear abaya was more challenging. I was facing peer pressure in secondary school, which is never nice. Unless you make the Faustian decision to suck up to the kid who no one actually likes but pretends to. But, yes, being Muslim made it harder.

In the end, I decided to wear it. I remember feeling empowered within me and deeply connected to Allah (swt). My decision was rooted in a belief of wearing loose clothing being a form of worship and also a form of liberation from societal pressures.

Then Allah (swt) put my intention to the test.

The ISIL years

I began collegejust as ISIL was rising and when steroids were injected into the PREVENT Programme, which doesn’t seem to have prevented anything other than dissent against British interests in SWANA countries. In fact, it appears to be legislatively designed for this very purpose.

The PREVENT programme has a very clear ‘good moderate Muslim’ vs ‘bad radical Islamist’ division, with the latter never seeming to apply to supporters of regimes like the Western-backed Egyptian Sisi regime, which used supposed Islamic justification for massacring hundreds of civilians.

I remember teachers in college abusing their power in managing the class to pressure me to explain the meaning of ‘jihad’ to the group. Another suggesting in front of the class that I had behavioural similarities to specific terrorists. The abuse of power was even worse in my undergraduate studies where even criminal behaviour by other students towards me was excused by staff and extenuating circumstances for assessments were rejected in cases where I’d had serious medical evidence from specialised professionals asking for a circumstance.

The abuse wasn’t easy. Part of me hated my abaya for it.

But I didn’t take it off.

You can’t abuse someone out of a decision that comes from the heart.

Seizing your power

For a long time, I didn’t know how to make sense of my experiences, and so attributed the problem to ‘white people’. White people who viewed themselves as superior and discriminated against others. And I wanted my right to equality and representation.

It wasn’t until I studied politics that I had the vocabulary to describe what was happening around me.

Now I realised: I don’t want representation. I don’t want equality.

At least not in a world governed by an ideology of bloodlust. A poisonous ideology that churns the remains of the oppressed into the furnace of Western so-called civilisation, the heat emanating from their bodies keeping others warm in the winter, the rancid fumes of burning flesh fusing under the latter’s skins.

As an early teen, back to when I was struggling with my abaya decision, my mother told me that if someone has to see their history, their philosophy, their identity plastered onto you to treat you with dignity, then they don’t respect you. They respect themselves.

It wasn’t until recently that I realised what she meant by this.

The United Kingdom domestic sphere, like the international system, bows to the hegemony of today’s idols that hurl our very existence over the cliff’s edge and into the abyss.

If you don’t feel the batons beating on your back, the dogs tearing at your heels, the slurs of a thought to-be forgotten history hurled onto your face like acid, all in an effort to force you to submit.

Submit violently to the idols of today.

Then is the freedom from experiencing those batons, dogs, and slurs really worth it?

My introductory notice was strongly worded. If it hurt your feelings in any capacity…

maybe ask yourself why. It’s probably because it was a mirror to your own misplaced sense of superiority towards others. Just as it would be considered normal and rightful to address a non-Western Muslim questioning the clothing choices of a Western dressed woman this way, so too it should be for the opposite way around.