My mother still thinks – to this day – that I am gay because my father died and I lost a male role model. In a way it helped her accept me. People seem to find it easier to accept homosexuality when they can attribute it to some reason. Their immediate reaction is usually “la2! Leh baddik totla3i heik? ” implying that there must be something wrong that happened to you. Because, otherwise, if they had raised you correctly, you wouldn’t turn out to be a lesbian. Maybe finding the “wrong thing” helps them make sense of it. I remember a Meem discussion group once when someone said she’d like to know every girl’s reason for being gay. She said we all become gay because of something that happens in our childhood: abuse, rape, losing a parent, divorce, bad experiences with the opposite sex, or something equally disturbing. I don’t believe that’s true. It might be the case with some people, but it wasn’t for me.

Excerpt from the story "When My Father Died" from Bareed Mista3jil

Even today, some years after the incident, I’m not ready to deal with any questions: why didn’t you scream? Why didn’t you tell your parents or the police? Why didn’t you go to a hospital? Don’t give me any questions. I know all the theories about what you’re supposed to do if you get raped – no wait – when you get raped. I didn’t want to get even with the criminals. I just wanted to be left alone and forget it ever happened. The funny thing is that you think you’re immune to these things when you’re a lesbian – especially when you’re a tough dyke. You think if you cut your hair short and wear punk clothes, men will leave you alone.

Excerpt from the story "We Are Not Safe" from Bareed Mista3jil

The popular chatting program at the time was called ICQ, which I immediately downloaded, created some romantically morbid nickname, and set out to find other lesbians. There was some method of searching through lists of people and I spent hours looking till I found someone with a nickname like “sexy lesbian 4u.” Oh my God! I thought, a sexy lesbian for me! I messaged her instantly and said: “hiiiiiiiii! I am a lesbian too!” She said hi back but with far less enthusiasm and then asked me if I wanted her to bite my ear. I wondered why she was saying that, but was so excited about meeting another fellow lesbian that I just started babbling on with details about my life, the suffering I’ve been through, the identity crisis, the broken heart, and other teenage lesbian drama. You have to remember, it was over 10 years ago, and I was very slow at typing. Then the sexy lesbian 4 me made a very indecent proposition that involved touching her private parts. I was shocked! Mortified! No! I said. I want us to talk and share our life stories!

Excerpt from the story "My Quest to Find Lesbians" from Bareed Mista3jil

And so it went for a long time. Nightlife was the only place fortinfees. The general attitude wasn’t really about activism; it was about meeting up. And of course, problems arose inside the so-called “community” at the time. The more people we met, the more we found friends and rivals. Fights broke out between people all the time. Some were benign, but some got really serious. People would report each other to the police or out each other to their families. A lot of people were severely depressed and got lost in their double lives that they became hooked on alcohol or drugs. There were no daytime conversations; everything happened at night. We came to Acid every week with our most basic instincts on our sleeves to let out all the tensions from our daytime closets.

Excerpt from the story "How It All Started" from Bareed Mista3jil

My mother is a devout Muslim woman. Her belief in God is so powerful that she surrenders everything to His will. Anything that happens is because God wills it. And so she didn’t question or challenge my homosexuality “Allah heik ketiblik,” she said. She told me it made no sense for her to try to change God’s will. Shortly after, I told my father, and he had the same reaction: “We cannot change what is God’s will. If it is meant for you to change, you will change on your own.” This is an odd reaction for Muslim parents, who usually get scared of their children’s actions being sinful. Not my parents. When they thought about it and discussed the matter between themselves, they deduced that my living a lie was a bigger sin than my sexuality. They told me that it was better for me to be honest with myself and my parents than to be a hypocrite.

Excerpt from the story "God's Will" from Bareed Mista3jil