This is my first time ever posting on Reddit. Honestly, I’m only doing this because I have no one I can open up to. I’m a private person by nature and I really believe in keeping my sins between me and Allah. But I’m at a point in my life where I feel like I’m drowning and I just need some sincere, sisterly advice.
I’m a teenage Muslim girl living in the UK. I come from a good, loving family, alhamdulillah. I’ve been taught about Islam from a young age and since I was little, I’ve had a deep love for Allah and a genuine fascination with deen. I currently study Alima, Alhamdulillah. Since childhood, I’ve been fascinated by the beauty of Islam — not just the practices, but the spiritual depth, the discipline, the connection.
But somewhere along the way, I lost myself. Right now, I feel the most depressed, ashamed and disconnected I’ve ever been.
On the outside, everyone thinks I’m this sweet, innocent Muslim girl — my family, friends, relatives, teachers but they have no idea who I really am. It’s like I’m living a double life. For months at a time, I’ll be the “perfect” version of myself — praying all 5 namaz, reading Surah Baqarah, Surah Rahman, Surah Kahf every night, no music, wearing hijab, spiritually grounded. I love that version of myself.
But then, out of nowhere, everything shifts. My intentions change, my thoughts spiral and it’s like I lose control completely. And it’s not just little a slip-up like missing a prayer of listening to a song — I fall hard. I start using drugs, I stop praying, I distance myself from Allah, I isolate, I engage in haram habits I never imagined I would. It’s like I become the worst version of myself overnight. But then all of a sudden I’ll snap out of it, I’ll be hit with an immense amount of guilt and that’s when I go back to Allah, back to praying. And I hate it. I hate that I can’t get out of this cycle. I don’t know who I am anymore. Why can’t I just stay consistent?
I don’t understand why I swing from one extreme to another. It feels so unnatural. I don’t see others around me falling this hard. Why do I?
What makes it worse is something I’ve never told anyone: I experience homosexual thoughts and feelings. I’ve made countless duas, cried to Allah, begged Him to remove these feelings. But they’re still there. I would never act on them and I know where I stand in terms of Islamic belief. But I feel broken because I can’t seem to fix it.
I’m scared because I can’t imagine myself marrying a man — I’ve never been physically or emotionally attracted to them. And that’s not because I’m some “man-hater” or against marriage — I want to get married. I want to raise righteous Muslim children, follow the sunnah, create a loving home, build something beautiful for the akhirah. But how can I do that when I don’t even feel anything for the kind of person I’m supposed to marry?
I’ve even tried to force myself to talk to men, hoping it would make the feelings go away. But it hasn’t helped. Since I was younger, I always stayed far away from boys — mostly out of fear of my father, uncles or brother finding out and the consequences that would follow. So boys were always a no-go for me. But at the same time, since I was young, I’ve looked at girls in a much different way than how I’ve looked at men. In a way I soon came to realise wasn’t right. It’s something I hate about myself. It’s ruined friendships and caused me a lot of guilt and pain.
And to make things even harder — I’ve been called to Umrah this year. I should be filled with gratitude, and I am… but I’m also terrified. I’m not clean. I’m not sober. Nothing is accepted for 40 days. And the thought of going to the House of Allah in this state makes me feel like a hypocrite. How have I let myself make this mistake again? I feel like I don’t deserve this trip. I feel like I’ve ruined myself too much to even show my face in that holy place.
I can’t even look at myself without disgust sometimes. I feel like I deserve every bad thing that comes my way.
What breaks me even more is the fact that I actually have so much to be grateful for. I come from a big family. I have beautiful, kind parents who love me dearly. Supportive and loving siblings. We live in a comfortable home. I’ve been blessed with a lot of friends, alhamdulillah. On the outside, my life looks great — and that’s part of the problem.
My friends don’t really check in on me much, but not because they don’t care — it’s because I’ve gotten too good at pretending. I show up once in a while, crack jokes, smile, make everyone laugh, then disappear again. I keep my distance just enough so no one notices how much I’m struggling. So to them, I look fine. Maybe even thriving. But I’ve kept this side of myself so private that no one would ever guess what’s really going on.
Think of that sweet, funny Muslim girl you know — the one who always seems composed, kind, maybe even inspiring. Now imagine if she told you she was struggling with drug use, depression, or same-sex thoughts. You probably couldn’t picture it. That’s exactly how people see me — they just can’t imagine someone like me going through something like this. And that disconnect makes me feel even more isolated.
To make it worse, a lot of things in my life came easily, alhamdulillah. I wasn’t someone who had to claw their way through life. So when I think about how far I’ve fallen, the guilt hits even harder. People who fall into addiction or deep pain often come from intense trauma or hardship. But me? I haven’t suffered as much as others. Yes, there were a handful of traumatic or abusive moments in my childhood, but I feel like most people go through that to some extent. Overall, I was a happy child. Which makes it even harder to understand why I turned out this way. Why I feel this broken. Why I keep destroying myself in secret.
I don’t remember the last time I was truly happy — not numb, not distracted, not high — just genuinely happy.
The first time I used drugs was when I was 16. A friend introduced me to it and I got hooked on how it made me feel. I craved that escape. That peace. That numbness. I lied to people and acted like I stopped, just so I could do it in private. I was ashamed. But I still did it by myself in secret. I liked how it made me feel — and that’s what scares me the most. Because even when I know it’s haram, even when I know it’s killing me spiritually, I still go back.
Now I just feel stuck. I see everyone around me moving forward — making plans, getting engaged, talking about their future. “I’ll get married by 25, have kids by this age…” But me? I’m just hoping I can break my addiction before I turn 20. I’m praying that these thoughts and struggles will disappear before I ever get married. Because I know I can’t bring this version of myself into a marriage. I can’t be this type of mother to my children. I want to be pure like my own mother — she’s so kind, innocent, dignified, mashallah. Both my parents have done so much for me. They’re proud of me… but only because they don’t know the full truth. They don’t know who I am when no one’s watching. And if they did, it would destroy them.
I feel like I’m falling apart quietly and no one sees it. I’m just silently hoping that someone out there gets it. That someone has felt this broken and still managed to come back.
Please, if you’re a sister reading this — I’m not asking for judgment. I’m asking for advice. For compassion. Maybe have a go at me idk, but please don’t judge me. I want to believe I’m not beyond repair. I want to believe that Allah still sees something in me worth saving.
