As Salam Alaikum, dear readers. May the Most High bless your path on this very day. My name is Mariam Alzahrani and I am a young Arab Muslim woman living in the City of Toronto, Ontario. I was born in the City of Dammam, somewhere in the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia, but grew up in the United Kingdom. For the first few years of my life, Berkshire was my home. And then we left this wonderful place. That’s life, I guess.
In 1999, in the tenth summer of my life, my parents Mahmoud and Amina Alzahrani left the United Kingdom and moved to the City of Toronto, Ontario, and we’ve lived here ever since. Ontario is the most immigrant-friendly area of Canada. I am a proud Saudi-Canadian Muslim woman with one helluva story to share with you. The story of a Muslim lesbian trying to get by in a tough world. My story.
Does that surprise you? The fact that a Saudi Arabian Muslim woman living in Ontario identifies as a lesbian? It really shouldn’t. I am a pious Muslim woman who wears the hijab and prays five times a day, as required by the sacred rules of Islam, my religion. I go to the Masjid every Jummah or Friday, and pray fervently in the ladies corner of this sacred place. I am a proud Muslim, just want to make that abundantly clear.
I’m studying civil engineering at the University of Toronto, and hope to make an impact in the world of science someday. We need more Muslim women in the sciences. People seem to think that all Muslim women, especially the ones from Saudi Arabia, are passive and helpless. That is not the case, ladies and gentlemen. I am very much an empowered woman. There’s more than one way to be a strong woman, something I try to explain to white feminists time and again.
I believe that western feminists mean well, but they don’t understand women from other parts of the world. I am a Muslim woman and a feminist. They don’t get it. To them, because I wear the hijab, I am not a strong woman. To white feminists, a Muslim woman is a victim bahis firmaları of Islamic patriarchy. I wear the hijab by choice, not because anyone forces me.
Let me make certain things clear to you, dear reader. My father is a feeble old man who’s lived at home ever since his stroke, and my mother is stuck taking care of him. I don’t have any siblings. My parents depend on me financially. See? No strings on me, folks. I do what I want. Does that shock you? A Muslim woman who wears the hijab, leads a pious life, considers herself empowered and free, and answers only to the Most High? It really shouldn’t. Dear westerners, stop believing in stereotypes. Use Google to educate yourselves instead of making assumptions. It’s, um, free.
I’m really passionate about my civil engineering studies at the University of Toronto, but all work and no play makes me a dull gal. I am really thankful for the presence of Fatoumatta Ali in my life. I met the cute Somali gal while walking around the University of Toronto library, looking for a quiet spot to study. We just clicked, became friends, and sparks flew between us. Fatoumatta Ali and I have been together since.
Fatoumatta Ali and I are both Muslims, and we’re women-loving women, but we’re from very different worlds. Fatoumatta was born in the City of Edmonton, Alberta, to Somali immigrant parents. The gal has it all, beauty and brains. I love my brilliant and beautiful Fatoumatta, and can’t get enough of her. She did her undergrad in criminal justice at the University of Calgary and came to the University of Toronto’s prestigious Faculty of Law last year. I’m glad Fatoumatta Ali came to Toronto because my life honestly sucked without her.
I, Mariam Alzahrani, am proud to be Fatoumatta Ali’s girlfriend. When I see her, I always greet her joyfully with a kiss on the lips and a tight embrace. Lots of hijab-wearing Muslim women walk around together in Toronto but people assume they’re just friends, even kaçak iddaa though in a lot of instances, they’re lesbian couples hiding in plain sight. With Fatoumatta Ali, I don’t have to hide because, like me, she’s proud to be both a Muslim and a woman-loving woman. I don’t like the term lesbian. I find it outdated. Woman-loving woman is a better term, I think.
Labels such as gay, lesbian, bisexual or whatever are so politically charged and boring. As a Muslim woman, I find them too westernized and filled with way too many negative connotations. I am a servant of the Most High, and I am as the Creator made me. I am a woman who loves women. That does not mean I hate men. In fact, most of my friends are male. I’ve always gotten along better with men than with women. I think it’s because I’ve always been a die-hard tomboy, and most of my playmates were athletic young men. Of course, my fondness for males is not sexual or romantic in any way. I have always been sexually and emotionally attracted to other women. I’ve always known this about myself. I am what I am, I guess.
Last week, after Friday evening prayers at our favorite Masjid, Fatoumatta Ali and I went to the Eaton Center and ate some delicious Chinese food in the food court. Afterwards, we went to watch The Equalizer at the movie theater, and delighted in Denzel Washington’s performance. We went home, talking and laughing, holding hands while riding the train. Once we got home, Fatoumatta and I had some wonderful fun together.
A lot of people say that I’m a very bossy gal, and I think the fact that I am five feet eleven inches tall, not fat or thin but sturdy and curvy, and kind of outspoken, has a lot to do with it. I am a very submissive woman in the bedroom, though. Just ask Fatoumatta Ali. The five-foot-four, curvy and sexy, gorgeous dark-skinned hijab-wearing Somali sister is one of the bossiest women I know, whether in the bedroom or out of it. I really, really like that about her.
My kaçak bahis sweetie delighted me that night, and I thoroughly enjoyed myself thanks to Fatoumatta Ali’s sexy brand of domination and discipline. My Somali goddess introduced me to the pleasures of BDSM, and I’ve been addicted to them ever since. Fatoumatta laid me down on our bed, stark naked, and tied me up. Gently Fatoumatta kissed me, then licked my tits while fingering my hairy cunt. Oh yeah, I cried out happily as Fatoumatta worked on me.
Fatoumatta spread my thighs and licked my pussy hungrily, and I found myself moaning in pleasure and crying out her name. Love it when you’re helpless, Fatoumatta whispered, and then she whipped out her strap-on dildo and put it to good use. Translation? Fatoumatta fucked me silly, raising my bound legs in the air and pounding her strap-on dildo into my cunt as I screamed in ecstasy. Hard and fast we went at it, as is our custom.
After fucking me real hard for a while, Fatoumatta switched things up. The sexy Somali gal worked her fist into my asshole, after lubricating me good and proper and cleansing my rear end with an enema. I screamed loudly, and Fatoumatta smiled wickedly while fisting me. Anal fisting is something I really enjoy, but it is not the easiest thing in the world. It takes a lot of lubricant, and patience, and of course, the one thing that influences every human interaction, chemistry. Fatoumatta Ali and I definitely got chemistry, and the bossy Somali cutie made me how in sweet pleasure and agony as she fisted my asshole. This Fatoumatta did until I begged for mercy.
Much later, I lay in Fatoumatta Ali’s arms, with tears of joy on my face. You’re welcome my angel, Fatoumatta whispered into my ear. Gently she kissed me, then pulled the covers over the two of us. Just another night of fun in our little household. Couples like Fatoumatta Ali and I aren’t exactly rare out there. I strongly doubt we’re the only Muslim women who love other women in a big town like Toronto. We’re together, and we’re happy, and we are proud Muslims. We don’t apologize for being who we are. Live your life your way and we’ll live our lives our way. Peace be upon you.