From Anger to Gratitude

“You’re not gonna join the Taliban, are you?”

This from my sister when I explained to her how I was in the process of converting to Islam. My sister is a college-educated, kind, intelligent and thoughtful woman. Granted that living in Argentina (where we both grew up), she has less exposure to other Muslims than if she were to live in the U.S. But regardless, this reaction is indicative of the very minimal understanding and knowledge that the majority of those living in the “West” (i.e., Europe and the Americas) have of both Islam and Muslims.

So how does a typical white westerner, a card-carrying Roman Catholic who couldn’t make the sign of the cross on himself with his left hand for fear of the devil laughing, end up as a Muslim? The short answer (which I am in part stealing from author and professor Jeffrey Lang, a fellow convert himself) is that an infinitely loving God manifested his unending compassion and guided me to a life that would be better for me and for those closest to me.

As a child, I was a typical Catholic boy. During my earliest years living in Queens, New York (where I was born), I went to a Catholic elementary school. When my family moved to Buenos Aires, I was neck deep in Catholicism. At that time, 98% of the country’s population identified as Roman Catholic, and the 1853 constitution that was reinstated in 1983 after the fall of the military dictatorship and the return of free elections stipulated that the president of the federal government was required to be a Roman Catholic.

My mother was from Spain and fairly privileged. She grew up during the Spanish Civil War and therefore was heavily invested in the side she and her family identified with, i.e., that of Generalissimo Francisco Franco and his Catholic brand of fascism. Couple that with the stories she would tell me of the “glorious” Reconquista (the re-conquering of Spain: eight centuries during which noble and chivalrous Christian knights fought back the hordes of usurping heathen Moors), and I ended up being pretty deeply indoctrinated in the paradigm of Western Christian moral superiority. This is not to denigrate her or her beliefs, only to point out that we’re all complex products of our upbringing. Just as she was, so am I.

With all that, as a kid and even a teenager, the fact that I was religious gave me a good deal of comfort. Sure, I probably suffered from more sexual anxiety than my less religious peers, but I had Someone to turn to when things got bad, and who I could thank when they were good. The problem is that this comfort and this structure, in my experience, only worked for me as a juvenile. As mental and logical maturity set in, as well as historical honesty, the foundation started to fall apart.

I was married fairly young to a woman with a similar background to me, and we kept the Catholic Church in our lives, at least moderately. We baptized our two children and sent them through their first communion without question. But because I was interested in Christianity and history, I spent a lot of time reading about the early Church: what was it like? What did they practice? What was their creed? What about the life of the historical Jesus: do we have any historical evidence contradicting the religious narrative?

From what I could gather, it seemed like Jesus and his early followers did not intend to have the Church we have now, nor even the Church that existed a thousand years ago. I can go into this in another article, but basically, I came to believe that everything I had learned about my religious life was historically and purposefully inaccurate. None of it made historical or logical sense to me anymore, and so I drifted away from practicing the religion of my family and culture. The problem was that I didn’t replace it with anything else, and so, there was simply a void where God once was in my life.

Looking back now, in hindsight, I believe this probably contributed to the increasing anger I accumulated and in the selfish, egocentric behavior that I adopted. It also led (for my part) to the dissolution of that first marriage and then the huge guilt and shame I started carrying now that my children, at ages 10 and 7, had to (through absolutely no fault of their own) live in two different houses and no longer enjoy the stability and example of a mother and father who loved each other and them. Instead of then trying to deal with that guilt, anger and shame, I doubled down on it, believing that the only worth I had was in what women would ascribe to me. So, I went into one romantic relationship after another, as if trying to redeem myself from that previous “failure”.

The cycle ended when one of these relationships resulted in a second marriage. With my own anger and shame still not only unaddressed but in fact growing, there was no hope for me being a good husband in this relationship. The plot twist this time, however, was that the marriage came with a child, a little girl who I fell in love with and ended up adopting as my own daughter. Sadly, I poured out all my own anger and shame onto my second wife, and I also accepted both the abuse I received from her as well the awful situation my first two children had to endure, because I was still trying to fill that void. I was trying to find a way to clear that shame and that guilt. But as the saying goes, if you want to get out of the hole you’re in, the first thing you need to do is stop digging, which I instead relentlessly kept working at. The image is very relevant because it demonstrates exactly how I was addressing the issue: trying to force a solution on my own terms and through my own will.

Circumstances now brought me to begin attending meetings for a twelve-step program, and to begin working through these steps. Something I didn’t know at the time and that most people I’ve spoken to about the twelve steps don’t know either is how much they rely on a higher power and on a spiritual path. God willing, I’ll write another article on how closely working the twelve steps aligns with being a Muslim. For now, let me say that the first 3 steps can be synthesized down to: 1) I can’t; 2) God can; and 3) I’m gonna let Him.

At this point in my life, I described myself as an atheist and had no belief in any Higher Power. However, this program now brought me face to face with choosing to continue that path or trying to get out of my hole using a different method. So, I had to reconcile that, deep down, I did still believe there was a God, since it was an integral part of my upbringing (and because, frankly, there are no atheists in foxholes, right?), but that the lens I was given to connect with Him was flawed. Yet I couldn’t pick up the Catholic understanding I used to have, so I had to look for something different.

I started learning about Stoicism and reading what the ancient Stoics like Epictetus, Seneca and Marcus Aurelius wrote. I also read material from many modern Stoics, like Ryan Holiday, Donald Robertson and Massimo Pigliucci. Much of the theory behind CBT (cognitive behavioral therapy) comes originally from the tenets of Stoicism. The philosophy that almost everything in our lives is outside of our control related to the unmanageability of my life. And that within the small part we can control, when we act virtuously (i.e., with courage, wisdom, moderation and fairness) we tended to feel better and do better for those who depended on us. Moreover, the ancient Stoics like Epictetus and Marcus had a deep spiritual side, since they believed it was a benevolent Nature that guided all of us correctly and to the best end for each of us, if only we would accept it and work towards helping it unfold (i.e., Amor Fati).

The principles of Stoicism dovetailed very nicely with what I read about Buddhism and the Eight-Fold Path. How attachments to things of this world and even other people, none of which we can control, lead to suffering and anxiety. But then again, I was still in this world, right? I had a wife and 3 kids. I wasn’t getting the concept of detachment as a healthy part of a relationship, and instead I assumed it meant “Screw you guys, I’m going home.”

What was still lacking for me in all these beautiful paths was the God that my mother had instilled in me from a very early age. The God of Abraham, Moses and Jesus. It didn’t feel quite right without that very basic understanding of God I had inherited but that I needed to update. I turned to learning more about Judaism, figuring maybe I can go back to the O.G. God, right? And while I found a lot of wisdom and peace in this, especially in the Torah, the Book of Isaiah and the Psalms, it seemed like a message that had difficulty being brought into the 21st century for those not already born into the tribe.

Finally, a question came into my head: “What about Islam?” So I started researching. Imam Google was very helpful. And everything started falling into place. The third step (of the twelve steps) says: “Made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understood Him.” When I found out that the word “Islam” simply means “submission” and the word “Muslim” means “one who submits”, it seemed like a perfect fit. When I learned that I would be required to reconnect with that God five times a day, it seemed like the best way to consistently be asking for help and guidance. When I was able to understand that I could have a direct, one-on-one connection with God, without the intervention of any mediators or priestly caste, I thought I would be very happy turning my will and my life over to Him.

I went to a mosque on a Friday and, by God’s will, I met exactly the correct teacher that God knew I would need to guide me to His straight path. I came to a class he taught on the weekends for teens and young adults in order to learn the prayers and, during that first class, I had a unique experience. I wrote it down at the time, thankfully, and sent a description to my teacher:

“But to be honest, the biggest thing I got out of the class was in the beginning, after our meditation. You had us stay in sujood and try to feel the presence of God. I’m not sure exactly what I felt, but I can tell you I had tears in my eyes and it felt like something that I can only begin to describe as awe and amazement. I’ve never felt that before in my life, and the rest of the day I was walking on a cloud. The best I could come close to describing it is the feeling you have when you first fall in love, how you’re constantly thinking about your lover and can’t think of anything else, and thinking about your lover just makes you feel good. The feeling ended up fading somewhat during the week, especially with the demands of wife and kids and job, etc. muscling in.”

I think this sealed the deal for me, and I believe it was God confirming to me that I had found the right path for myself. Then everything else started falling into place as well. As I stopped digging and asked God for help, He reached down and began to pull me out of my hole. I started to take ownership of the problems and pain I had caused for my children and for both my ex-wife and my wife at the time. The guilt and the shame (and with it the anger) began to lift as I addressed my shortcomings and made amends to these people that I had hurt through my action or inaction and as I then resolved to live in a different way. A way that would follow the guidelines that God encourages us to follow in the Quran.

“And [tell them that] I have not created the invisible beings and men to any end other than that they may [know and] worship Me.” (51:56)

The “worship” in this case makes it sound like the “jealous God” of the Old Testament, but when I found out that the same Arabic word for worship is used for “serve”, I now understood this verse as “the purpose of humans is to serve God.” And as I began to have God as the goal for everything I did instead of holding my own desires as God, my actions served as a positive for me and for those closest to me.

As for the difficult relationship I was still in, God was able to show me that the guilt which kept me in that situation was not good for anyone and only caused more hurt. He showed me that I could still be a good father to our daughter without staying married and wrapped up in a toxic cycle of hurting and being hurt:

“And if they decide on divorce — then indeed, God is Hearing and Knowing.” (2:227)

“Divorce may be retracted twice, then the husband must retain ˹his wife˺ with honor or separate ˹from her˺ with grace.” (2:229)

Even in something as painful as divorce, God provides guidance, i.e., to do it with “with grace”, or “with kindness” as is often translated too. The Quran often refers to the intention behind our actions. Was my intention to gratify my own ego and desires? Or was it to treat myself and my wife with the love and compassion that God shows to us? I saw that I could stop this vicious cycle of mutual harm which was also keeping me from a full, loving relationship with my daughter; that I could end it through the kindness of letting go. So I made the decision to end that marriage while still providing a soft landing for my wife (now my second ex-wife) and started a new, wonderful, loving and compassionate relationship with my daughter, like I had been able to begin fostering with my older two children.

What’s more, the blessings kept on coming. I spent over a year without being involved in or pursuing any romantic relationship (which is the longest stretch I had done since high school), and unlike after my first divorce, I was perfectly happy with this situation because I did not need the validation of another human being to feel like I was worthy of taking up space in this world. God was telling me in the Quran that I was His, and that He was validating me every day. But eventually, I started a relationship with a friend I had made through a Quran study group, a fellow Western convert like myself. She is truly the kindest woman I have ever known, and we performed our Nikah (the Muslim wedding ceremony) last December. She is my inspiration as the partner on this blog. And she has been the embodiment of exactly what the Quran describes as spouses for both men and women:

“Another of His signs is that He created spouses from among yourselves for you to live with in tranquility: He ordained love and kindness between you. There truly are signs in this for those who reflect.” (30:21)

I realize that I have been blessed with far more than I could ever deserve, which is part of the beauty that I found in Islam: I don’t need to “earn” or “deserve” God’s blessings, I just need to appreciate them when they come.

“Why should God punish you if you have thanked Him and have believed in Him. And God is Ever All-Appreciative (of good), All-Knowing.” (4:147)

“If you are grateful, I would certainly give you more.” (14:7)