I don't want to be a lesbian but I might not have a choice. What am I going to do? I feel like I don't know anything anymore. My name is Halima Hussein and I am a young Black woman of Somali descent living in the City of Ottawa, Ontario. If you saw me walking around wearing my long skirt and hijab, with my Koran tucked under my arm, you'd assume I was just another Muslim gal living in the Capital. And you'd be wrong. I'm not your average ordinary Muslim chick. Hell, I'm not your average ordinary anything. I am only me.
Three months ago my parents, Abdullah and Fatima Hussein of Orleans, Ontario, kicked me out after finding out that I am a lesbian. They found my blog, where I expose my innermost thoughts under the moniker SingleSomaliDyke1989. Who knew that my computer illiterate parents would follow the link I posted on my Twitter and find my little online lair? Damn. When it rains it frigging pours, eh? Life hasn't been the same since that day, as you can imagine. I went to stay at my friend Amina Khalid's house. She lives alone in an apartment near Baseline Road and studies economics at the University of Ottawa. We've been friends for a long time and she's always had my back.
After getting my bearings, I began to try to make it in the world as best I could. I got myself a job working as a cashier at Wal-Mart and continued going to school. I'm in my third year at Carleton University, where I study criminology. After three weeks together, Amina and I were honestly starting to get on each other's nerves. Sharing a one-bedroom apartment can test even the strongest of friendships. You know us females and our need for our space. That's why I moved into a one-bedroom apartment in the Overbrook area.
Vanier is by far the cheapest area of metropolitan Ottawa so I figured I'd stay there for a bit. Slowly, I began rebuilding my life. Job? Check. Apartment? Check. Still in school? Definitely. Still confused about my sexuality? Nope, not really. I am one hundred percent sure that I am a lesbian. I just don't want to be a dyke. I'm a Muslim woman, dammit. Being a lesbian and a Muslim don't fly where I come from! Lucky for me I was born and raised in Canada. Had I been living in Somalia I would be a dead woman. In Islamic countries it's not okay to be gay, lesbian or bisexual. I've heard stories about gay Somali men and lesbians getting stoned by angry crowds in the streets of Mogadishu. As much as I love my Somali people we're not really a tolerant bunch. I don't know who's more persecuted in Somali communities, the gays and lesbians or the growing Somali Christian minority. It's not easy to be me, for real.
Honestly, I tried my best to forget about my forbidden sexual feelings for women. Being a Somali lesbian at Carleton University isn't easy. Everywhere I look I see hot women. Tall, flirty white girls with blonde hair and blue eyes clad in tank tops and miniskirts, defying the cold September weather. Big-booty Jamaican girls in booty shorts and sweatshirts, strutting their stuff up and down the quads. Nerdy Asian girls with doe-like eyes and slender bodies. Arab girls who wore their hijabs, tight shirts and super-tight jeans that showed off their curvy forms. Oh my Gosh, how's a Muslim lesbian like me supposed to get any studying done? Temptation is everywhere I frigging look!
Yeah, I decided to focus on school and work and forget about all things related to my emerging lesbianism. It wasn't easy. Especially after I met a unicorn. Remember what I said about LGBT Somalis and Somali Christians being the most persecuted group among my people? I wasn't kidding about that. One day, while waiting for a bus at the Rideau Shopping Center, I saw a really pretty young Black woman. you should have seen her. A vision of beauty, for real! Almost six feet tall and absolutely sexy, with a curvy body, thick legs and a big round ass. With her caramel skin, long curly Black hair and almond-shaped golden brown eyes, she was something else. Hot tamale, I liked what I saw!