During Taraweeh's prayers today, a younger version of myself flashed before my eyes. I hadn't seen him in about 15 years. He has such a good soul, a very warm personality, and is always looking to put a smile on others' faces. But his problem was that he struggled with being a young Muslim in the West during a time when being Muslim was, let's say, really hard. I want to open a parentheses here, but we'll be here all night. I can't help but reflect on the difficult tightrope I walked daily back then.

The pressure to fit in and to be accepted by my peers often clashed with my desire to hold onto my faith and cultural identity. The fear of being made fun of or bullied for my beliefs. A heavy burden to bear for anyone, but even worse, especially during these formative years. This was during a time when misconceptions were at its peak about Islam. The world seemed intent on defining us by its narrow parameters. I remember that all I wanted to do back then was hide who I was, and I often wore masks to show up in the world.

Fast Forward to today, I'm not saying things got drastically better. They haven't. But with all these challenges, I see a glimmer of hope. I see young Muslims today carving out their own spaces, embracing their identities with courage and grace. They create communities, engage in open dialogues, and challenge stereotypes with their voices and actions. As I stood there in Taraweeh prayers, I wished I could speak to young Souba. I would've told him that the struggle to reconcile faith and identity is not a sign of weakness but a testament to his strength. It is a journey of self-discovery, a testament to his commitment to his faith and desire to contribute positively to the world around him.

I still deal with the symptoms of the struggles I faced as a young Muslim. Like, bro, you couldn't have paid me to pray at the park when Salah came in, or to step out of school/work to pray when Salah came in. And you definitely couldn't pay me to wear a thobe outside of Eid. Al'hamdulilah, these days, I'm synonymous with a thobe; everyone at work knows I'm unavailable for prayer times, and wherever I'm at, whether it's the airport or on a hike, when Salah comes in, I clock in. Let me not front, tho, because I only recently got comfortable doing these things within the past five years.

On day twelve of this blessed month, I pray for the Muslim youth of the West. May they find the strength to navigate their challenges with grace and resilience. May they find communities that embrace their identities and support their spiritual growth. May they remember that their faith, heritage, and unique voices are invaluable gifts to the world. May this Ramadan be a time of empowerment and growth for Muslim youth everywhere. May they find solace in their faith, strength in their communities, and pride in their identities. Ameen.