Ramadan is coming up soon, and I always remember that Ramadan was the period in my life when I fully accepted I am no longer a Muslim. I can’t remember the exact year, I think it was around 2012, I was living alone. I had been having doubts for years, but I never let myself admit that I didn’t believe in any of it anymore. It seemed incomprehensible, and I knew the consequences would be too great.
So I woke up for Sehri (this is when Muslims get up to eat and pray, before the fast begins at Sunrise). But then my day began, and I found myself thinking… why on earth am I doing this? I have perfectly good food that I can eat, so why am I starving myself all day? The reasons I used to tell myself just didn’t make sense to me anymore. Of course, Ramadan is about so much more than not eating, I knew that, but I didn’t see what me not eating would achieve. So I ate. I broke my fast and ate. I remember this feeling of overwhelming emotion, as in that moment, I knew that I didn’t just have doubts anymore. The faith I had been trying to cling onto, the beliefs I was trying to force myself to believe, they were completely gone.
PS I chose photos of Samosa's because that's what I associate with breaking my fast!