I’ve written a lot on this blog about wanting to move past the Ex Muslim identity, and at the time I always wondered if that was really possible. I’m happy to say that over the past few months, I have found that it is possible – and I have begun to live it.

The Ex Muslim identity is one which has torn me apart, pulled me in different directions. For years, I’ve been trying to feel whole, to pull together the various strands of my double life and somehow merge it all together so I can be one person with one life.

I’ve since accepted that that’s not going to be entirely possible, at least, not for me. Having thought long and hard about it over the past eight years, I have slowly come to the realisation that to me, it is not worth the pain I will cause to my parents by “coming out” to them as an atheist. They have a deep and unyielding faith in their religion, and as a result of that faith, they will truly believe that I would burn in Hell for all eternity as an apostate. I have realised that this will torment them, and I cannot put them through the suffering they will feel as they imagine their daughter being tortured for eternity. Nor can I rip apart the only thing which keeps them going in life – their religion. As first generation, working class immigrants, they have never had much in life, and they have struggled. I have seen them bowing their heads and prostrating in prayer during their darkest hours, and I have seen the strength their faith gives them. Despite my dislike of their religion, I cannot find it within me to begrudge the comfort and strength it gives them.

Nor can I accept the thought of not having them in my life. I know many great, brave Ex Muslims who have had to accept this reality, and I am in awe of their strength. But I also know that this is not a reality I wish to bear.

And so, there will be some elements of my double life which I will always lead – but over the years, I have managed to introduce more and more of my life to my parents, and keep only the most necessary facts to myself – the main one being, of course, my atheism. This balance has been constantly amended and renegotiated and has now found a sort of happy equilibrium, especially since my family have now been introduced to my partner. Whilst my parents are spared the devastating knowledge that their daughter is an atheist, they now know and have even accepted the most significant parts of my life – that I live independently, that I am not traditional, that I travel alone, that I have a career which is extremely important to me. And they have finally accepted my partner. It has been a long, painful process but we have come out the other side with a closer relationship – they now ask me questions about work when I visit instead of about religion, and take a genuine interest in my answers; in return, I go through the motions of prayer when the adhan goes. But I don’t feel suffocated- I feel content, because this compromise means I get to live my life how I please for the most part, and still have a relationship with my family. Of course, there are moments when that stifled feeling will flare up again, but it is no longer constant, as it used to be. I can breathe.

Outside of family, I have also been writing much less this year as I have been trying to build up the rest of my life and move forward. I have focused on work, on my close friendships, on my interests, and on my writing in other areas of life. I have started to learn new skills which I’d been neglecting. And somehow, slowly but surely, my life has started to look like the life I’ve always wanted. I can finally look in the mirror and feel like a person. Not an Ex Muslim, whose life and very being is tied down and defined by the religion she left, but a normal person who happens to be an atheist. I look around at my life, at all the people in it who love me for who I am, and I feel incredibly fortunate. And I know that I owe a huge debt of gratitude I can never repay to every single person who has helped me along this journey – you know who you are.

There are those out there in the world who have lost their loved ones or are living under constant threat of death for their apostasy. There are those who have lost their families, or taken their own lives. There are those who cannot tell their parents they have had a child out of wedlock. There are so many who suffer. For their sake, I hope that we can normalise apostasy and create a world where it is no longer a death sentence or a cause of ostracisation, stigma, shame, depression or anxiety. And I will do what I can to build that world.

But for me personally, I am incredibly lucky to finally find myself free from the shackles of the Ex Muslim identity. To Islam, I can finally say: Goodbye. I have closure. I am no longer defined by you, or by having believed in you. Goodbye – Finally, I am moving on, to just be me.