u/Vast_Advantage_3790

Peace be upon you.

I am writing this message with great respect and sincerity. This is not an easy step, but it is one I have deeply considered.

I am 31 years old, a practicing Muslim, living in France (Paris region), and I am going through an inner struggle related to my sexual orientation. Despite this, my faith is important to me, and I wish to uphold it as much as possible, without lies or injustice towards anyone.

I am looking to connect with a Muslim woman living in France (ideally in the Paris region) who might be in a similar situation and would like to consider a marriage based on mutual respect, discretion, kindness, and a clear agreement from the outset.

The goal is neither to deceive nor to manipulate, but to protect each other, preserve our families, and move forward in life in a dignified, honest way, in accordance with our personal values.May Allah make it easy for us and guide us towards what is best for us.

Hello everyone,
I’d like to ask a general question about religion and philosophy.
If we assume that Hell is real, does it change how you view the decision to bring children into this world?
Personally, this idea makes me think deeply. If such a place truly exists, then bringing life into existence comes with an enormous responsibility and a risk that is difficult for me to ignore. This thought causes me anxiety and raises moral questions about procreation.
I am not targeting any specific religion and I am not trying to debate the truth of any particular faith. I am simply asking a general reflection: how do you reconcile the possibility of Hell with the decision to have children?
I would be interested in hearing different perspectives on this question.

Hello everyone,
I am a Muslim, and for some time now I have been deeply troubled by the question of Hell. It affects my relationship with God, my view of life, and even my desire to have children one day.
When I read certain descriptions of Hell, I feel immense anxiety—not only for myself, but also for others. I struggle to accept the idea that people I see as good, kind, and sincere could be condemned. I think about Muslims, non-Muslims, my loved ones, and humanity in general, and it fills me with sadness.
Sometimes I find myself thinking that I would rather never have been born than face even the slightest possibility of ending up in Hell. I know this may sound extreme, but it reflects the depth of my anxiety.
This fear has made me very pessimistic. I even struggle with the idea of having children. If Islam is the truth—and I believe it is, and that it is a beautiful religion—then the stakes are incredibly high. We bring conscious and sensitive human beings into existence, people who will carry the responsibility of their choices and face the consequences of their lives.
This is something I find very difficult to understand. If Hell is real, then the risk feels enormous. Even though I believe that Allah is infinitely merciful, the mere existence of such a place fills me with anxiety.
I try to remind myself that Allah is the source of all mercy and goodness. When I feel compassion for others, I tell myself that this compassion must ultimately come from Him. Yet I still struggle to reconcile that mercy with the idea of such a severe punishment.
I also have many questions about guidance. Why did God leave us in a world with so much religious disagreement and confusion? I often wonder: if I had been born into a Christian, Hindu, or atheist family, would I simply have become what my environment taught me to be? The reality is that many people inherit their religion from their parents.
Another thing I struggle to understand is how some people seem able to live peacefully with these questions. Personally, when I think about Hell, I find it difficult to think about anything else. I do not understand how people can live normally while believing that such a place exists and that some people may end up there—whether themselves, their loved ones, or other human beings.
Sometimes I wonder: if the consequences are so serious, why bring new human beings into existence at all? How do believers reconcile the beauty of faith, God's mercy, and the responsibility of existence with the possibility of eternal punishment?
I am not asking these questions out of hostility toward Islam. On the contrary, it is precisely because I believe Islam is true that these questions weigh so heavily on me. I want to rebuild a relationship with God based on love, trust, and hope rather than fear and anxiety.
Has anyone else gone through something similar? How did you find peace with these questions?
Thank you to anyone who takes the time to read and respond.

Bonjour à tous,

J’écris ce message parce que je suis arrivé à un point où je ne sais plus quoi faire.

J’ai 32 ans, je suis musulman et gay. Pendant plus de 15 ans, j’ai essayé de lutter contre ce que je suis. Je me suis convaincu que ça allait passer, que je pouvais changer, que je devais juste être plus fort, plus religieux, plus discipliné. J’ai vécu dans le déni presque toute ma vie adulte.

Et malgré tout ça, je tiens encore à ma foi. Je suis même prêt à supporter cette épreuve pour Dieu si c’est ce qu’il faut. Mais ce que je n’arrive plus à gérer, c’est le poids psychologique de tout ça ajouté à la pression constante de ma famille.

Aujourd’hui, ils veulent absolument que je me marie avec une femme. Plus le temps passe, plus les questions deviennent insistantes. Et moi je me sens piégé.

Le problème, c’est qu’à force de me renier, j’ai l’impression d’avoir détruit quelque chose en moi. J’ai développé une forme d’anhédonie : je ne ressens presque plus de joie, plus d’envie, plus d’émotions fortes. Même les choses qui devraient me rendre heureux me laissent vide. C’est comme si j’avais éteint une partie de moi-même pour survivre.

Ce qui me fait mal aussi, c’est que je ne suis pas quelqu’un de froid à la base. Au contraire, je suis quelqu’un de très drôle, très vivant, avec un côté extravagant et expressif que j’ai appris à cacher pendant des années pour éviter que les gens “devinent” mon homosexualité. J’ai passé tellement de temps à surveiller ma voix, mes gestes, ma façon d’être, que je ne sais même plus qui je suis naturellement.

Je suis fatigué mentalement. Mort de l’intérieur par moments.

Je regrette aussi de ne pas avoir parlé plus tôt. Maintenant, si je dis la vérité, j’ai l’impression que ma famille et mes amis vont voir ça comme un mensonge de plus de 15 ans. Alors qu’en réalité, je crois surtout que j’ai passé 15 ans à essayer d’être quelqu’un d’autre pour ne décevoir personne.

Je ne sais plus quoi faire :

Dire la vérité à ma famille ?

Continuer à me taire ?

Chercher une aide psychologique spécialisée ?

Est-ce que certains ici ont vécu quelque chose de similaire ? Comment vous avez réussi à avancer sans perdre votre foi, votre famille, ou vous-même ?

Merci à ceux qui liront.