Submissiveness..IslamStyle

A few years ago back in 03 I was actively trying to get married ala Islam. I had an email from a brother which blew me away. He said he was a Dominant and he wanted me to invite me to be one of his wives. Now it wasnt odd to me to be asked to be part of plural marriage but it was odd for him to state that he was Dominant. He meant it in the BDSM sense rather than the manly sense. I found this really intriguing and we engaged in an email exchange but at the end I decided that it wasnt for me.
Submission and Domination are two subjects that I find realy interesting. The idea that there is someone superior to someone else and being given the power to actually engage someone else to do as they please.
My interest in this has been a purely cyber interest,..Ive never engaged in actual BDSM play but I definetly beleive that my life as a wife set me up well in the realm of being very submissive.
Islam is very clear when it comes to the role of the woman. She is supposed to be submissive to the male. Theres no if, buts or maybes about that. Her role is to support the male…and its proven in a verse in the Quraan that states, “Men are placed a degree above the woman(because of their ability to support”.
I loved that verse a lot. I loved it because it had a small disclaimer…because of their ability to support. In Islam the man is considered the stronger, the breadwinner and above the woman only because he is supposed to be the provider.
I asked one of the more well known jordanian Scholars about this ayat(verse) and I asked him what about the men who didnt spend and support their women…and he said they were still placed above the women in terms of what they could do but they were lesser men.
Aha…so lets get this straight.
The men who do not support their family are considered less in Islam than the men who do.
The man is ONLY placed above the woman because he does FOR the woman.
Hmm…so to me it seems that submissiveness is a privilege….and not a right.
Some men have called me aggressive. Those are the men who cant control me. Dont know how to get me to follow their trains of thought. For the most part those men who find me difficult are the kind of men that are considered less in my religion.
I cant. Will not. Refuse to respect a man who isnt acting like a man.
I will not. Cant. I refuse to be submissive to a man because he has a penis.
I will however respect and honor a man who stands up for justice and righteousness. A man who looks to our Prophet as the example that he should reach for and respects a muslimah as a man should.
The muslimahs of old were not weak women who let the man do whatver they wanted. They had spirt. They had fire. They had depth.
Those are the kind of women that I aspire to be like,
The ones who ran into battle to aid their men if needed. The first martyr in Islam was a woman named Sumayyah(Raa). Her death was painful and terrible.
Women of those ages walked from Makka to Madeenah in the heat and dust of the desert Sun with their children. Those women stood by their men because their men were men.
Subhan Allah.
Those strong warriors. Those women who birthed sons and daughters alone…those women are the ones I aspire to be like.
Those strong women of substance who were submissve were not like us today but it is those women that I gain my focus from.
I want to be like Aaishah.
I want to be like Khadijah.
I want to be like Sumayyah.
I want to be like Zaynab Bint Jaysh
I want to be like Ruqqayah.

Radiyallahu Anhumma

Those are Mi Gente.

Snapshots (3)-White Thobe and Red Roses.

July 2000 

 

He knocked the door  and I nervously opened it. There he was dressed in the whitest thobe…his hair freshly cut…holding the biggest bunch of roses that Id ever seen.

Id never been given flowers in my life so to see him there looking so enticing…so handsome in that thobe with the contrast of those red roses….just made me lose my breath.

I felt so shy. Id wore a short skirt. Wed got married over the phone after our initial meeting. I really liked this brother. He flew all the way from New Jersey to meet me in Florida for one day. One day. Who did that back then? To fly all the way to meet me. I had three kids. I was stil raw from my divorce but he wanted me. And I wanted him back.

He was a serious brother. Serious. Arab. Handsome. Hood. Sooo hood. So gentle. Masha Allah. I dont think Ill ever find a man that was as good to me in that short few months as he was.

The first brother who didnt see me as a burden with my three.

Wasnt intimidated by the specter of an ex husband.

Fed-exed me his ATM card so that I could withdraw money to buy another man’s son pampers. Got mad at me for taking too much. Called me every day. I missed him soo much.

I told him that we should separate. I was 25. He was 22. I felt like a burden. I wanted him to be with someone who could give him firsts. Their first child. Their first everything.

I guess I was stil too raw to appreciate what I had in that man.I was Super Salafee Sister. I thought he was deviant for liking Salman and Safar. He wanted me to wear sneakers with my jilbab. I thought it was haraam. We spent too much time bickering on matters of aqeedah and manhaj. He called me a Salafee clone. I called him a Suroori. My “friends” thought Id lost it. How could I marry someone who liked Salman Al Oudah? Back then….it was crazy. We separated on points of manhaj not points of personality.

He was my snapshot of 2000. Eight years ago. Hes probably married with beautiful kids. I make dua for him all the time. He deserved the best because he was one of the best.

Hey…who said all my snapshots were bitter?