By Ramy Eletreby

Muslims throughout the world are coming together at this time to celebrate the holy month of Ramadan, a special period marked by fasting, deep prayer, family togetherness and charitable donation. Ramadan is the ninth month of the Islamic calendar and its holiness comes from the belief that the holy Qur’an was first revealed during this month to the Prophet Muhammad in 470 A.D. It is during this month, more than others, that Muslims are able to put aside their political, social, material and differences and just be at peace.

The most crucial part of observing Ramadan is the fasting. From dawn till dusk, Muslims deprive themselves of food, drink and other vices (smoking, sex, etc.) in order to promote serenity and a spiritual connection with a higher power—Allah. This deprivation enables the physical self to undergo a deep cleansing, making way for a clearer mind and a sharpening of the senses. Throughout the month, an overall sense of power and focus is achieved by seeing beyond the immediate physical needs of the body and finding ways to fulfill it consciously and spiritually. Believers become more humble and grateful for what they have and become more even-tempered and less likely to be frustrated over trivialities of the physical world. Above all else, it is a time when Muslims can reaffirm their faith and strengthen their belief in one God and the teachings of the Prophet Muhammad as God’s messenger.

With such a powerful display of faith and flow of positive energy, those who have struggled with Islam in their day-to-day lives often react in disparate ways. Because the holy month of Ramadan represents a strong set of core beliefs, questioning Muslims find themselves in a complex situation, as is often the case with those who are LGBT. In the lives of gay Muslims (or those raised Muslim), Ramadan tends to open up a Pandora’s Box of emotions and feelings surrounding their personal journeys with the faith that has repeatedly shamed them for being who they are. Many forage through the dark and complex forest of reconciling their religion with their sexuality to wholeheartedly appreciate the joy of Islam and observe this holy time. Others find the pressure to coexist just too difficult and wearisome.

H.M., a 25-year-old Pakistani-American who currently lives in London, is someone who has struggled with his faith ever since he recognized he was gay. Compound that with the tense political atmosphere that surrounds British Muslims nowadays, and H.M. sees little reason to celebrate the holy month. “[Ramadan] used to have significance for me when I was younger, but not anymore. Fasting basically fucks with my metabolism, and I end up stuffing my face and drinking anyway, so I refuse,” H.M. tells IN Los Angeles magazine. “I make it a point to say I am not a practicing Muslim, but instead, that I was raised Muslim. Being gay and Muslim is nearly impossible in my experience, and there are only a select few that can execute it gracefully. It seems to normally feed a pattern of self-hatred—I’m against that.”

On the other end, M.M. is a 23-year-old part-Saudi practicing Muslim living in New York City who considers Ramadan imperative to his self-empowerment as a man. “Every time I fast, I feel better and more in touch with the world and God, as well as my family and friends. Imagine a ‘reset’ button that makes you appreciate what you’ve got,” says M.M., who refers to himself as “gay with a possibility of being straight.” M.M.’s choice in being a proactive and practicing Muslim actually helps him achieve a stronger sense of reconciliation between faith and sexuality.

“It’s extremely important for me to participate in activities that emphasize my Muslim-ness, especially as a gay man who sometimes has to defend being Muslim and gay,” M.M. tells IN. “I try to be a model of Muslim ethics on every count, so that when I argue with Muslims about my sexuality—or even deliberate internally about it—I know I have demonstrated my duties as a Muslim, and have intimately felt and know what it means to be Muslim.”

With the growing visibility of LGBT Muslims internationally, the call for Islamic reform has grown louder in recent years. LGBT Muslim support groups such as the Washington, D.C.-based Al-Fatiha and the U.K.-based Imaan have shown that with the support of peers and colleagues, gay Muslims should not have to face the impossible decision of accepting their faith or accepting their sexual identity. The Progressive Muslim Union of North America (PMU) is a grassroots organization that provides a forum for North American Muslims to pursue a progressive intellectual, social and political agenda. One of their key principles is affirming that a Muslim is anyone who identifies herself or himself as Muslim, including those whose identification is based on social commitments and cultural heritage. By placing the definition of being Muslim in the hands of the individual rather than the general population, which is a foreign concept, it allows for a broader, more accepting Muslim identity. This call for reform can promote a sense of solidarity among Muslim brothers and sisters despite sexual, political and social differences.

Adnan Ali, one of the most highly visible gay Muslims in the U.K., founded the LGBT Muslim support group Imaan in hopes to widen the perceived Muslim identity. “Being Muslim can mean different things to different people, whether referring to a certain association with a specific culture (like being Pakistani-Muslim in my case) and/or reference to Islamic rituals and spirituality in everyday life,” Ali tells PlanetOut/Gay.com. “In the beginning, I had to dismiss my sexuality to be Muslim. However, things changed and got better once I met other gay and lesbian people who culturally and/or religiously identified as Muslim.”

According to Ali, the need for religious gay groups is stronger than ever as they can pave the way for LGBT people to rise above the current conservative revolution. “It is quite significant to question this religious banishment by actually finding out what a particular religion says about homosexuality,” says Ali. “You will be surprised to learn that a religion can be appreciative of sexual diversity. So it is important for some of us to have religious gay groups.”

For now, the holy month of Ramadan rolls on for all Muslims, gay and straight. After 30 days of cleansing, purging and spiritual reflection, one thing can surely be expected: a clearer focus on what must be done in order to achieve a stronger sense of solidarity among the Muslim community.

Hassan Mirza of gay.com/PlanetOut contributed to this article.