The Expressions Narrative Project is a platform dedicated to the voices and perspectives of Muslim women, from activists and artists to professors and political representatives. This blog showcases personal narratives expressing Muslim women's thoughts, opinions, and lived experiences.
The reason I am standing where I am today is because women-led organizations within the community were providing services and support to Muslim survivors. These organizations created spaces where women could seek help without shame and begin rebuilding their lives with dignity. later had the privilege of beginning my career at the very organization that once supported me as a client, which has been one of the most meaningful full-circle moments of my life.
Read MoreThe fact that my friends and I had all been silent survivors of sexual violence is no coincidence. The systems of patriarchy around us would rather we stay quiet than confront the realities of what women experience. Naming what has harmed us, questioning the roles we've been expected to play, and envisioning something different all challenge a system that benefits from our silence. Because once we speak, it becomes harder to ignore the changes that justice requires.
Read MoreOn the 1st of December, 2024, I was out with my cousin when we had just started hearing about the resistance in Aleppo. We’d gathered our political information the same way we always had, via conversations with people who seemed to know more about the topic somehow and the Facebook groups where people either voiced their concerns or poked fun at the fact that nobody really understood what was going on at the core of the matter. People were saying that Aleppo was now “free”; we couldn’t quite comprehend that. There had been so many attempts at our liberation that we came to see any further ventures as distant and indiscernible.
Read MoreYet, beyond the hospital's embrace, I encountered a jarring contrast — a world where compassion intertwined with insensitivity. Friends and family rallied around me, offering the strength to carry out the burial and janazah [funeral prayer] for my precious Asiya Meriam. Their presence during the janazah and the tender care they provided were a lifeline, but the aftermath of my daughter's passing revealed a disparity within my community. Opinions and judgments echoed, casting a shadow on my grief.
Read MoreThe ramifications of being sexually abused, and particularly by a religious leader, skewed my sense of morality. He was supposed to lead by example to teach me about my beloved faith. He was supposed to protect me. Neither of those things happened, and I’m still undoing the trauma and repression.
Read MoreThe same late-capitalist world that has commodified the language of self-care encourages us to isolate ourselves, to retreat from each other. What if, instead, we took care of ourselves in order to seek camaraderie and companionship with others?
Read MoreIn the fall of 2016, I broke my silence as a survivor of sexual violence. Nearly everyone I knew was shocked. I felt free. That was, until community members began calling my parents to tell them about my unwelcome declaration. It was taboo. Nobody wanted to talk about sexual violence. What kind of nice, God-fearing girl would ever talk about *gasp* SEX? (Shhh, you can’t say that out loud, Asma!)
Read More
