Sometimes I can't fathom how I let myself end up in this situation. It just doesn't make sense when I stop and think about it with a clear mind.
It was bad enough that I actually had sex with a random refugee. That's not something I'd normally do. But the way he kept talking about getting me pregnant while we were having sex should have been off-putting to me. He kept going on about how I should "carry a child for Allah” and “let Islam sprout" in my womb. Very weird things to say to a girl you just met. That should have creeped me out.
And yet, I got incredibly wet and wrapped my legs tightly around him when he said those things. And he was successful in his endeavor. Now he's in who-knows-what-country and I'm pregnant. I have a Muslim child growing in me. I should be freaking out, and yet I'm not. I feel strangely honored to be carrying Islam in my womb, and bringing it into my decidedly not Islamic community. It's like something inside me is reacting to the idea of helping spread the religion of the man who conquered me. I don't fully understand why I'm thinking this way, but I know that I'm glad it happened.
Nicolas R.
2024-09-01 22:37:16 +0000 UTCCuckWolf
2024-08-30 02:52:26 +0000 UTCdaniwhiteboi
2024-08-29 18:46:04 +0000 UTCLuka
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