The Inside Man:

Caution BAD WORD are Rampant!

[bfinsideman-blog]

Loving reading more into your life B! Miss you tons, come back to Ottawa soon <3

<3 ;)

[bfinsideman-blog]

#irrational

I'm having a panic attack right now, it's 3:17am on Saturday Aug 27th and I'm laying here tearing up because I can't breath. It's like someone is pushing my chest down with their hands and I can't take a breath. I try to breath but it just doesn't want to happen. Why am i having this panic attack? Literally 20mins ago I was trying to look up how to sew a “cute as hell” Jean jacket (you know trying to jump on that trendy train) from old jeans; DIY and thrift that shit. Then I put my phone down and I closed my eyes and within a millisecond my brain decides to turn against me. I started thinking about my future, which is the worst thing i can do, it's just a spiral downward from there. what if I don't get to marry the person I want? will I ever find that person? What if my parents force me to marry a girl? Should I marry a girl for their happiness? I told my mom I would give her an answer to her marriage questions in December. December is coming up, what am I going to say? Do I really have to come out to my parents again? Why do I have to come out to them again? Why don't they understand? Will they ever understand? What if they don't, can I truly cut them out. I'm scared that because I am who I am I might end up with their version of my future. I wish I was braver. Why do I have to worry about others before me? Why do I have this crushing feeling in my chest and my heart? Why am I going through these panic attacks over and over again? What do I do? I wish I could run away from here. Start over. Is it just me or are there others like me out there? Why do I have to go through this alone (from a Muslim coming out perspective)? I wish I knew other Muslims who came out and their stories and how they did it? Is life supposed to be this way? Will it be this way forever? I don't know what to do? But I know that tomorrow I will get up, if I can fall asleep tonight, and pretend like everything's a-okay. Maybe it's about time I go to the docs again, cause I hate this and I want it to stop. How do I make it stop?

This post was supposed to be about failed expeditions: stuff I start and eventually never stick to. I think it dies out because I try to give myself way too much to do. But i think it's also something more than that. It happened with my YouTube channel, the millions of other blogs and tumblrs i started. You know what they say when you're trying to commit to something new, start slow and build up a habit so that eventually it just becomes a part of your everyday routine. Gotta do that with brushing my teeth too. This blog almost died too. I said I would post every day, but that was unrealistic. So I gave myself a break and I was sick and said that instead of everyday let's make it 2 times a week. That's manageable and more efficient, i think. That way I'll also have more stories to share too.

Well I think the typing helped, I think my panic attack has all but faded out. If I'm honest though, I don't want to stop typing, because I'm afraid that if I close my eyes it will start happening again. It's why my sleeping habits are bat shit cray. I stay awake to the point of raising the white flag and forcing myself to call it quits. So I drift off to sleep instantly and without a chance for thoughts to creep in. My eyes are starting to close so I'm going to go. Sorry if this post was weird.

Tune in for more stories next time and hopefully something a bit more upbeat.

Till then,

The Inside Man.

[bfinsideman-blog]

#broseph

Hola Extraño,

Not Sorry for not posting! I was sick for the past couple of days, therefore no new stories. I won’t tell you what i had but I’ll just say there was blood, pain and screaming involved.

Broseph: (noun)

A term used primarily by frat boys and douche bags, or by hipsters ironically.

A term used to indicate a brotherly relation to an individual. A bro of biblical proportions.

“Broseph, we deep fam”.

“Broseph that was a lit party”.

“Broseph from another Moseph”.

(Caution: Use of sentence may cause riot, outbreak and melting of brains)

Oh god! Writing those last sentences, I think, literally gave me an aneurysm. “Broseph” I don’t know how it started, but one day the revelation of broseph came to me and ever since that enlightening day, it is the method in which I refer to my younger brother (kind of like a real weird inside joke). My brother is 3 years younger than me, a wannabe juice head and a religious fanatic (but not all the way, and by that i mean not terrorist level, but sometimes it’s questionable,JK! (it’s a joke, NSA please don’t come for me or Broseph!)).

My relationship with my brother is tricky. I think it’s more of a big bang theory roommate agreement than a relationship. We have mutual understanding of each other and try our best to let each other do there own thing. I really wish it was a classic brotherly relationship. We fight sure and then make up, but are we close, are most brothers close; I think they may be closer than we are or sometimes pretend to be. There is a mental block that I have created when it comes to broseph. I’m gay and he’s extremely religious. There is no eye to eye there. I haven’t even told him yet (DUN DUN DUN), I mean he might know but I’ve never brought it up to him myself. in that sense i wish we were closer, because if western cinema and culture has taught me anything about siblings, it that usually you come out to your sibling first and then your parents (kind of like test driving a car).

Broseph started memorizing the Quran when he was in middle school (it’s kind of what brown family’s due to make themselves feel closer to God). So broseph’s got that in his background and then with the progression of time and his own personal interest in the subject matter, he took to it. Now it’s hard to have a conversation, where the road doesn’t, inadvertently, lead to religion or some aspect of it. Think of it this way for every 1 rule concerning religion I follow, broseph has 10 that he follows. The whole family is actually tired of it, but it’s his thing so we let him do it. Thus again is posed the question of how do I tell a person of such religious involvement that I am gay, something that would go very much against his beliefs.

I’m not dumb; I know eventually he’s going to find out but by then I won’t care as much, hopefully, or I’ll just be over it all. I don’t fucking know. i have hope though, as the only one in the family who puffed around in the past (not the goody two shoes he and everyone thinks he is), i have hope that maybe he would understand. All I know is that a fight with broseph is a fight not to be had. I’ve seen it with him and my parents it gets ugly and dumb and just stupid and quite frankly completely against what our religion teaches. So for the time being, I will sit back enjoy being a brother to Broseph and deal with it when I want to fucking deal with it.

Even though it’s tough between us sometimes, I still love broseph, cause he’s fam and broseph’s before hoseph’s. I don’t know.

Tune in next time for more stories.

Till then,

The Inside Man.

[bfinsideman-blog]

#marriagegoals

Bonjour Étrangers!

OK so recently, on like a daily basis, my family's been dropping the M-bomb on me. Everywhere I fucking turn its what about her or her or her. Of course if they listened when it mattered they would get the correct pronoun.. But this really got me thinking. I mean, since when does the M-bomb come with a “use before” date.Oh! You've come of age and barely started your adult life, here have a ring, another person to worry about and now you're a real adult. I was asking myself these questions a lot, but then i got whacked on the head and remembered that i live in a brown family. Back home if you're not married by 23-25, something's up. Like there is something wrong with the person, usually the girl (never the guy, don't even get me started) or there is something wrong with the family, the girls family of course. I mean they still have fucking matchmakers (who btw, I learned are the biggest fucking sleep balls, taking all the money for now good fucking reason).

Anyway, back to the point, so my mom's been on my ass to make the “decision” (she got married when she was 18, but that was like a totally different time and they should know now it's different). She knows who she wants, but surprise, not who I want. I mean I'm turning 24 this year, marriage isn't even on my mind, I'm mean it is but not completely. I know and I have always known that i want to have a family, a big one too; it's just something I’ve known deep down was going to be on whichever path i chose no matter what. So I know for a fact that it's in my future. I know it's going to be a “he” and I will fight for him with all my heart and I know there will be kids because that's something I have known since forever. It's sappy and cheesy, but fuck it, bring on that sappy sap and all that cheese. I know I'm a hopeless romantic and I own that and I try to put hope into that hopelessness. It can be hard and tricky but I'm OK with making that commitment. Ive may have only ever been in one serious relationship and by all the fault of the guy it was like prison and did not end well (basically got chewed up and spat out, like a fucking piece of gum, ASSHOLE!!!). It may have started out as two people, but by the end of it i realized i was standing alone as he just used me and left. I won't deny i went back a couple of times, but with where i am now and all that I've been through dealing with coming out of my family and figuring out who i am and what i deserve and want, i know that he is somewhere i never want to go back to.

So what have I learned so far: 1, as sad as it is, once again, I'm going to have to, most likely come out for the billionth time to the same fucking people (can't believe I have to navigate those fucking waters again, literally like a row boat going in circles; OVER IT!). 2, I know what I want and I will fight for that future, 3: I'll get married when I fucking want to get married, that's my prerogative (someone said that once, right?).

Tune in next time for more stories.

Till then,

The Inside Man.

[bfinsideman-blog]

#iknowwhatyoudidlastsummer

So this past summer, for 4 ½  fucking months, I was in my homeland, motherland, whatever it is. Let me tell you, it was a fucking nightmare.

Due to the most corrupt ass government the electricity is on the clock. Every single day the fucking power goes out for an hour in increments throughout the day and God forbid the fucking whether act up because then the lights gone all day. This means you are sitting in a 40°C climate just melting the fuck away and getting drenched in your own sweat. I could fucking swim in the amount of sweat I produced. Heat stroke and dehydration big issues there. The technology totally exist to dismiss this issue, but because the government has their heads up their asses and they need a way to control the people they take the electricity away. living like fucking cave people!

Now for something a little more interesting, the underground gay community. I had Grindr, that lovely app, on my phone over there and to my surprise there were a lot more people that used it then I assumed. It's all underground, of course, but let me just tell you the amount of dick pics I got there beats out the number from here. Mind you I'm not a fan of the instantaneous dick pic. If you send me a picture of your junk, i will automatically assume you are a fucking flasher. You've gotta have balls, other than the ones in the photo, to send a dick pic because you are literally giving a person your genitals and, most of the time, your face. Now, I wouldn't do this, but I can assure you from a very reliable source here on Tumblr that that shit is going up. Anyway, so yea a lot of dick back in Pakistan but unfortunately no action for this hombre. Two reasons: first, it's sketchy as fuck over there, like you could literally die or get reported and go to jail, and I ain’t about that life; second, no protection, like literally I don't think any of the stores I went to sold condoms; I'm not talking about like shoppers drug mart caliber stores here I’m talking about like underground, like literally a pop up stand type shit and they didn't even have any. Luckily I’m always packing (😜) but I referred back to reason one, of course.

Then there was the social blackout that i had to deal with; like the whole internet and social connectivity sucks ass there. I mean, fuck, the light goes out every other hour so your phone is good for jack shit and when it is connected the service there is like if Google fiber had a cousin that forgot to take its fiber supplement, backed up and shitty. So safe to say that I had a fun celibate and unplugged summer.

In my mind I saw myself spending the summer very differently. With my friends ( who I consider my family, shout out to the Ottawa peeps) and exploring Ottawa, something I ironically didn't get to do in university. What, leave me the fuck alone, I was going through shit. But here I was caught in a century old feud between two brothers, being my grandpa (dad's side) and his brother, and their families. In the past i was always on the outside and didn't know much and didn't really fucking care. Then out of the blue my name goes under the bus and my family is devastated and enraged, at the bullshit, and so very confused. Btw, i was fucking accused of being an alcoholic; i enjoy my wine and liquor but safely and responsibly (there was other stuff but it’s just as redundant). So being the people my parents are, I was sent to Pakistan for 1 month to “right the wrongs” and show everyone I'm sane and completely fine, not the truth but it's what was needed. I learned a lot from this trip I saw the families and their dynamics through a completely new and unfiltered lens and that shit is fucked up and complete and utter nonsense. Literally I felt like I was back in high school caught in the middle of a fight between my two bestie over the most stupidest shit you'd ever heard. Like it was completely ridiculous and so darning. By the end of it I was glad to see everyone but I need to “Peace out” of that business ( is that even a saying ). No but in all seriousness it was actually pretty great; that's why I extended the trip to another 3 months (another 3 months of humidity, monsoon season and mosquitoes that literally turned me into the red fucking hulk, not cute) . Majority of my family is there and getting to see them and my new nieces and nephew was awesome.

I had fun, but like anything in my fucking life it wouldn't be complete unless there was something hiding under the surface or an underlying, secret mission that was being carried out. In this case two things (wow, a lot of things come to me in twos *wink wink*). One, I know my parents sent me there to look for the future miss (enter my last name) and two, and probably the biggest reason, because my parents thought going back to fucking Pakistan would somehow de/un-gay me (that's not a real word) or scare me straight, like a fucking conversion camp. Well guess what, I'm back and gayer then fucking ever!

p.s. Pakistan is pretty fucking gay too, if you take off its pants everyone would see that!

Tune in next time to hear more stories, maybe about marriage!!!

Till then,

The Inside Man.

[bfinsideman-blog]

#therootofitall

(Continued from the previous post becuase that shit would have been too TL;DR)

Oh geez, this is already so fucking long, who's gonna read this shit anyway.

Let's move on cause IDGF.  the inside man. Let me explain that, so No.1 -  family, my family is huge, No.2 -  religion, I'm a Muslim, still am even though I'm gay, I need god and it's as simple as that, No.3 - Community, the Muslim community is very tightly knit together especially in the west and especially in small towns. Now that we have that, let's break it down:

No.1: Family

My family, on my mom's side, is now 20 people, miss you grandma, my dad's side of the family is, drum roll please, ….a whopping fucking 80 people, miss you grandpa. That's a 100 people all together. That's a fucking small village. And this shit isn't even including close relatives and family friends, who are basically family. That's a lot of goddamn people. Now being the first of a 100 people to come out is terrifying. Do you understand that it's basically me tossing a coin, heads they still love me tails they fucking kick me out and on the off chance it lands on its side (Shaolin Soccer style, great movie, btw) it’s somewhere in the middle. That’s a big fucking gamble to take. That's why I am scared about my future. If I marry a man (which I want to do) and have babies (also on the bucket list), then I have to consider 100 people who are my family knowing my truth and their reaction to said news . Statistically my chance of keeping this family are not all that great. 20% of the 100% live in the USA, so we can assume they may be progressive and may accept my truth (although my parents have kind shifted that perspective for me), so let's change it to 10%. 80% of the 100% live in Pakistan, an Islamic country and very in culture compared to the west. So I can't expect acceptance from there, hope but nothing solid. So, in the end, I may potentially have a support from my blood family of 10% out of 100% (Is that how math works, I don't know I didn't pay attention to that in school). of course i also said it was like a village, 100 people, maybe they wont care so much about a single person.

No.2: Religion

So that leads me into the religious aspect of it all. Islam says that being a homosexual is one of the greatest sins. It also says that God is kind, merciful, forgiving, loving, just and good. Now from my logical perspective, I can’t see or understand, how a god that is all those things could condemn someone to a life of pain and misery and suffering. why would i as a Muslim, choose for my self to go down a path of exile and hardship, if i didn’t know that god, in some way or another, has got my back. But I don't want to get into the whole religious aspect, because that is an issues that will remain an issue to close minded people, for a long time. All I know is that I have made peace with my god and I am more than happy to receive what may come to me on the day of judgment, because i have faith in the man upstairs. And that's all I'll say about that. Btw, i just want to say that since i came into my own truth i have been more closer to god than i ever was living a lie, so explain that bitches!

No.3: Community

Now, finally the last one. (If you made it this far, i applaud you and since its been a while, Hey!) The community. The Muslim community is and always has been very tightly knit. This becomes even more apparent when you take Muslims out of a country that is Islamic, at its core, and drop them off into the Wild Wild West ( another movie reference, except i didn’t see that shit). Everyone knows everyone and if there is something going on in a particular family the news is bound to ripple out to the entire collective. It's like a book club a group of suburban housewives started to read books but it's actually for keeping tabs on everyone's lives. So coming out to my family sure “easy peas”, but also coming out to the entire community ummm...I don't know. we all know when Linda May has shit going on at home and it's too different and controversial, it's time to slowly ice out the may’s family and toss poor ol’ Linda to the curb. no more block BBQ’s, book club or play dates. its tough being Linda and the May’s. Do you get what i mean?

Of course this is all hypothetical and only commencing these events would we actually come to see the outcome, but I'm just saying that's a pretty comprehensive look into my brain as I try to go to sleep (which I am trying to do right now but actually can't because my fucking brain won't shut the fuck up and stop thinking about stupid shit.

See, this one was shorter, well not really, but i don’t fucking care. The next one will be shorter, or it won’t, fuck you! 

Thanks for reading and tune in next time for more stories.

Till then, 

The Inside Man.

[bfinsideman-blog]

#shitscray

Hello world,

(that's about as much programming I learned from my time at university, the phrase Hello World)

This is my, what, 100th attempt at writing a blog or starting one. Maybe it's just the basic white girl in me that craves attention and wants the whole universe to be about her (a.k.a me). I'm basic, I own up to it. So let's talk about the title. The title has two meanings: first literal, being inside a man, or as the layman's would say it being gay. I’m gay. Yay!!! There goes my affinity for trying to rhyme whenever I get the chance. Second, I'm the first in my family and my community to say that I am gay, therefore an inside man. Get it, genius right, well I completely just pulled that out of my ass. But let's tread back a little and take it one at a time (or if you're brave we can try two).

I can out to myself a long ways ago. When I was just a babe and knew that something was different about me, I wasn't chasing the girls I was running with them, more like tripping i have no hand eye coordination at all. I came out to myself official first year of university. The year was 2010 and I had just found out that my roommate switched rooms because he was under the impression that I was judging him for being gay.Gasp, What, NO, Impossible, no? When I first heard it, I sat on my single, too small for me, bed and thought “was I actually judging him for who he was, but wait I can't be judging him cause that's who I am or who I hope to be, a proud out and in his own skin homosexual man”. I still tease him about it today, fun times. Slowly I came out to my friends and soon it was just kind of a known fact, but I guess some of my friends still get shocked way into the friendship when they found I am gay and I’m like “gurl, let me get you up to speed”!

My Parents that was a whole different ballpark (is that what sports say, I don’t fucking know). I came out to my parents, the first time in 2013. I remember the exact date, 03-25-2013 cause that day I mailed my letter and my biggest secret with it. Safe to say it didn't go so well. There were tears and guilt and pain and being the person I am I couldn't face my parents in that state so, ironically enough I yelled out April fool's and that was that. The seed was there, but my parents were master suppressors. They let the topic die away and I tried to bury it myself. Thus began my dark ages. It was literally the shits. I was depressed, severely, having panic attacks on the regular and just to top it off my brain was totally going against me. I started cutting myself to avoid the real issue and mask the pain and thoughts of suicide took over my dreams. It was tough. My parents being very conservative, didn't believe anything was wrong and they chose not to believe it, it couldn't happen to our family. Then I had a melt down. Britney Spears style, like i mean a full on 2007 Britney Spears MELTDOWN. I cut off my beautifully dyed hair (from Texture in Ottawa, ON love that place) and had a major panic attack in front of my whole family. Finally they had proof, they had seen the actuality of my situation. So they sent me to good ol’ Oklahoma to see a shrink friend (She is by far the most amazing person I have had the pleasure of getting to know; She helped me out, more than she ever needed to). So with my sanity back and some courage, that finally fucking decided to manifest itself, I came out to my parents, again. There was crying and yelling and by the end of it, I learned that it doesn't matter who you are, if the people that love you and the people you had complete trust in don't understand you then too fucking bad, they don’t deserve to. I'm not changing and I'm not going to let you make me hurt myself, I'm sorry, but finally, I love myself too much to let that happen, over you, no matter who you may be. So here I am living back home in a battle field, trying very hard to keep myself true to me. Wish me luck.

Well I said a lot so I'll leave quickly. Tune in next time to see what other stories the inside man has to share with you.

Till then,

The Inside Man.