Navigating Identity and Connection in a Diverse Family Background
Growing up, I wasn’t particularly religious as a Muslim. My parents sent me to madrasah (religious school) every weekend, I had Quran lessons once a week, and I tried hard to pray five times a day. But honestly, I felt like I was just going through the motions without any real connection to Islam.
That all changed when my aunt moved into my bedroom in 2008. She wasn’t Muslim; she was Christian.
Worlds Apart
Written from the perspective of Yulianna
As an impressionable nine-year-old, I was fascinated by the limitless life my aunt seemed to lead. It felt like a stark contrast to the rigid rules I experienced as a young Muslim—like the looming threat of hellfire if I missed a prayer.
My aunt often shared stories of her travels around the world and the diverse men she dated. Thanks to her, I’ve always been open to interfaith and interracial relationships. My late grandmother was Muslim, and my late grandfather was Christian who converted to Islam, which explains my aunt’s faith and my mother’s.
Both my mother and aunt were raised to embrace differences in faith, and they had the freedom to choose their own paths. This openness extended to me, allowing me to explore interfaith relationships too. I once asked a staunchly Christian acquaintance out for a date to Christmas Wonderland, but he turned me down. I also had a crush on a friend who turned out to be committed—not to a partner, but to being agnostic.
As an adult, I came to realize that marrying a Muslim might be easier, as conversion can be challenging for some.
Fond Memories
One of my favorite memories with my aunt happened when I was eleven. I was devastated over Jay Park leaving his K-pop group, and I cried over it. My aunt embraced me without judgment, offering comfort when I felt silly for being upset.
Despite guilt over enjoying secular music instead of focusing on the Quran—something I’d heard from relatives was discouraged—I found solace in my aunt’s company. In my room with her, there were no such restrictions.
Music became a lifeline during tough times in my life. My love for the band Hyukoh and rapper pH-1 was nurtured by my aunt’s encouragement, helping me through periods of grief, like when I lost a friend to suicide and when my father passed away. I often wish she had stayed longer to share in those moments.
When I was eleven, my aunt quietly packed her things and left, never to return. I remember the hurt of her absence, especially when my mum relayed her wish for me to keep her belongings in my room. For years, I was surrounded by remnants of her life—biblical verses, books, and CDs—that felt increasingly unfamiliar. I finally cleared her things out at sixteen, feeling relief as I made more space for my daily prayers. Her absence allowed me the freedom to embrace my identity as a proud Muslim woman.
A Turning Point
At sixteen, I felt compelled to start wearing the hijab. As I prepared for polytechnic, I hoped it would shield me from the judgmental stares of strangers. My aunt learned of my decision through my mother.
She reached out to advise me to consider the commitment seriously. I responded defensively, thinking she wouldn’t understand my journey. Now, I realize her concern was rooted in love; she understood the weight of that choice. At the time, however, I only wanted her to back off. I’ve never regretted my decision, but I wish I had appreciated her support then.
Reconnecting After Years
Written from the perspective of Vivian
Being alone in the US has given me a new perspective, making me cherish the time I had with my family. I moved into Yulianna’s room at her late father’s request, happy to care for my beloved niece. I remember her birth well; my sister scolded me for joking about her looks.
I’ll never forget the frantic call I received when Yulianna had a high fever. She usually feared me due to my teasing, but this time, she cried for me. I dropped everything to rush to her side. After a few hours, her fever broke, and we bonded more closely.
Leaving for the US was difficult, but I told Yulianna about my partner to help her understand. I’ve created many fond memories with her, including the time I tried to bring her along on my travels, but my sister wouldn’t allow it. I always brought her souvenirs, and her joy when receiving them filled my heart.
I’m thrilled Yulianna wants to reconnect. We haven’t spoken much in the past thirteen years, and I miss her and my other nieces and nephews deeply. I avoid sharing my struggles with them because I don’t want to worry my family.
Catching Up
For this story, I interviewed my aunt to reconnect.
Aunt: How old are you now?
Yulianna: I’m twenty-fourrrr!
A: And I’ll be… fifty-threee! (Laughs) So how’s everything?
Y: I’ve been very busy and tired. I was recently promoted to manager and am running my own advocacy platform. When I got the chance to write about you, I was both nervous and relieved. I’ve really wanted to reconnect, even if it’s through work.
A: I was so happy when you reached out. I thought my nieces and nephews had abandoned me for being so far away.
Y: Like you, I felt abandoned. After you left, it was hard for me. I felt like I had no one to talk to.
A: You know you can always talk to me, right? Even across different time zones? I’ll always be your ‘cheche’ (a play on ‘jie jie’, meaning older sister in Mandarin). We should catch up like this every month.
Y: That would be nice. How could I forget you’re my cheche? By the way, did you hear my eldest brother is planning to get married?
A: Yes, I know. And as for you, I always thought you’d end up with a Korean husband. (Laughs)
Y: (Laughs) Yes, I remember that. It’s much harder to date a non-Muslim, so I’m unsure if that will happen, but I’m still open to it. Speaking of Korea, I’m going on my first solo trip to Jeju!
A: Sounds fun! My first solo trip was to New Zealand when I was 18.
Y: Oh, I wanted to go to New Zealand too, but it was out of my budget and comfort zone. I realize now how much I take after you. By the way, do you remember when I first wanted to wear the hijab?
A: Yes, and I was very concerned because radicalization was common back then.
Y: I didn’t even know about that. I just felt called to wear the hijab on my own terms.
A: I respect your decision. I was also 16 when I felt the calling to Christianity. Even here in the US, I still listen to the adhan (Muslim prayer call) when I’m having a tough time; it gives me a deep sense of serenity.
Y: Interesting. Was it difficult for you to raise me as a Muslim?
A: Not at all; I was raised with Muslim teachings by my mother. I would remind you to pray before your mom could nag you. We come from an interfaith family, so respect was emphasized.
Reflecting on Identity
As I wrote this story, I realized how much my identity—shaped by growing up in an interfaith family—has influenced who I am today. This understanding grounds me in my advocacy for minority communities.
It’s serendipitous that my good friend, Ustazah Liyana, has been inviting my Lepak Conversations team to interfaith events. From movie screenings about interfaith marriages to discussions by Professor Mona Siddiqui on the human struggle from Christian and Muslim perspectives, I’ve felt right at home.
Ultimately, I gained something profound—having my beloved aunt back in my life. Thank you, RICE, for helping me mend my relationship with my aunt.
