I came to Islam during one of the lowest points in my life.
During the COVID lockdown, everything slowed down. I didn’t realize how much I had been distracting myself until I couldn’t anymore. Having more time on your hands can make you think about your past more than you want to.
All the trauma I never dealt with started coming back up especially the trauma from men. For some reason, that pain always affected me the most. It hit my self-worth in a way other things didn’t.
As a film buff, I’ve watched more films and shows than the average person, and during the lockdown I stumbled across a TV show called Ramy that aired on Hulu. At the time, It was the only thing in Western media that showed Islam in even a remotely positive, human way.
It wasn’t perfect, but it was the first time I saw a Muslim character who was struggling, learning, messing up, and still trying to connect with Allah. It made the religion feel less foreign to me.
I didn’t know much about Islam before the TV show Ramy. My only exposure was the surface-level stuff most Americans grew up seeing after 9/11, plus the disturbing videos online of stonings or so-called “honor killings” that had nothing to do with actual Islamic teachings. Those are murders, not Islamic punishments, and have zero basis in Islam.
These are cultural crimes, not religious ones. A lot of people tend to confuse culture for religion and it’s totally wrong. So my understanding was shaped by fear-based media, not real Muslims or real knowledge.
When the lockdown gradually lifted, I started to party more with my friends. I was the type who always had party friends, but politely declined them to stay home and netflix and chill instead. But I felt lost and numb. I didn’t know my purpose.
I regretted a lot of my decisions in life and felt like a total failure. I was trying to forget everything I had been through prior. Drinking and partying was the only answer for me at that moment.
While all of this was happening, I had a pen pal who was Muslim and lived in another country. It wasn’t anything serious, we were just online friends on Instagram, having casual conversations here and there.
He noticed how much I was partying from my insta stories and he knew how sad I was. I vented to anyone who was willing to listen. One morning he messaged me,
“Turn to Allah before it’s too late.”
I don’t know why those words hit me so strongly, but they did. After he said that, I started researching Islam. I didn’t plan to become Muslim, but I became curious. Never in a million years did I ever thought that I would become Muslim.
One night, while browsing YouTube, I came across a Ruqyah video. It was a powerful prayer for inner peace and relief from depression, recited in Arabic. I didn’t understand the language, but the moment I heard it, an overwhelming sense of inner calm washed over me.
From that night on, I began playing it every evening, letting the recitation carry me into a place of peace I hadn’t felt in years.
This planted a seed that would eventually grow into a major turning point in my life… one that would connect me not just to a new faith, but to a whole new way of approaching health and healing.
Two weeks later, I took my shahada.
I didn’t overthink it. I just knew it felt right. And on the exact same day, I put on the hijab. I didn’t take it off, not even once. That’s just how I am, when something feels right, I commit fully. I get passionate and dedicated fast.
As for the pen pal, we no longer talk anymore, but I will always be grateful for the impact his words had on my life.
Reverting to Islam is the moment everything shifted for me. It was the beginning of my soft era and the first time I chose something that brought me peace instead of chaos.
Islam came into my life when I needed grounding, stability, and direction the most. This is where everything started for me and I’m forever grateful that I listened.
Honestly, Vanessa 