A birthright is defined by Merriam-Webster Dictionary as: a right, a privilege, or possession to which a person is entitled by birth.
At least two basic rights are taken away from every person on the day they were born: 1) The right to name themselves; and 2) The right to choose how they would like to fill in that section on their IDs under the column “Religion”. And when you were born with a vagina, of course the right to do what you deem is best for your body (yes, I am talking about female circumcision and piercing foreign objects into one’s ears).
Names and religions are intertwined, and whether we like to admit it or not those two matters play a huge role in how we define ourselves and how others define us. If you were born with the name “Ahmad”, “Akbar”, “Siti” or “Farah”, people would probably assume that your religion is Islam. The same thing goes with those who were born with the name “Nyoman”, “Yohanes”, or “Liem.” This is because as humans we are more comfortable when we can categorize things around us and put labels on them. Even when we are fully aware that assumptions is the mother of all f**k-ups (excuse my language).
I had been uncomfortable being called by my first name since I was on the third grade. From then on, I usually introduced myself by my last name. By the time I entered my pre-teen years, I realized that I was also uncomfortable with the teachings of the religion that I was born into. I later concluded that there is no other choice than to take things into my own hands.
Losing more and more faith in our educational system, I took an initiative to educate myself through books and discussions with many people. Internet was not a popular choice back then where people could just go with their questions and let Google provides them with different answers from different point of views. School did not teach me how to deal with my changing body and hormones, it didn’t provide me with enough information on why the religion that I was born into claims itself to be the truest, holiest, and those who have the same belief should be proud of the choice that is made for them since the very first time they breath air. School, for me, did not give enough room to simply ask: why?
There are at least three topics that people don’t just usually bring up in conversations as they are deemed to be “taboo”: religion, sex, and politics. And when you put either two of those topics together, you can imagine what sort of reactions you will get from most people. To find the people who are knowledgeable and comfortable enough to discuss such topics is not really an easy job especially more than a decade ago. Luckily for me, I did find those people.
All through my teenage years for each day that I didn’t spend at school I learned about the one thing that I still hold true to this very day: it is okay to question everything. Everything from why do people keep referring to a girl that prefers to have a short haircut as “tomboy” or “boyish”, why do I need other people’s consent to decide what I think is good or even necessary to do with my own body, to God. I learned also that everyone is capable of learning, of course with each of our own limitations, but the real question here is do we want to learn? Because learning comes before understanding, and how do we expect to understand if we are not open to learning?
I went on with my agenda to obtain as many information as I could before I am ready to make important decisions. I learned about societal and theological concepts that I deemed important at that time, familiarizing and understanding those “big” words such as “atheism”, “agnosticism”, “patriarchy”, and “rights”. I learned about the religion that I was born into and other religions. I wore hijab for a couple of years to really try and get if everything that it represents is in sync with who and what I am. At the end, I am glad that I did what I think I had to do at that time.
I was about 16 when I got my first tattoo, a symbol of a band that I used to listen to all the time. I got another one when I turned 17 to simply celebrate my birthday (and yes, I was still wearing a hijab back then). Somehow the reactions I remember the most after both times were the questions that people asked, “Did your parents know about this?”, “What did your parents say when you told them that you are getting a tattoo?” I would surely discuss it if I knew they are open to such ideas, but I know they weren’t, not at that time. Same reason why I had to secretly learn about all the other stuff I mentioned earlier.
One day, I built up the courage to tell my mom that I have been learning about Catholicism exclusively and that I am considering to join the Catholic church. Her exact words were, “Well, if you’re serious about it. This isn’t something you joke about.” Her only request was to not tell other family members about it just yet. I know how hard it must have been for her and the last thing I wanted is for her to think that this is somehow her fault of not being a good enough parent (because we all know how judgmental people can be toward parents). Other family members soon found out and they naturally assumed that the only reason I “suddenly” became a Catholic is either: 1) I am dating someone with the same religion; 2) they persuaded me. My birth-father literally disowned me through a text message. Never once crossed their mind that this is my own doing, because well, it my friggin’ damn life.
Six years, six tattoos, six birthdays, six Lebaran and Christmas later, there is of course that family members who still comment on my tattoos, try to give me a present that turns out to be a book that explains how people who do not believe in the same God will eventually go to hell, and refuse to acknowledge the word “not” by turning it into “not yet” whenever I answer their questions about marriage. But there is also my mom who offers to pick me up or drop me off at church so that we can go to a mall after, there is my stepdad who remembered to send me a Happy Easter text a few months ago, there is my brother who couldn’t care less about what religion I believe in as long as I am happy and remember to breathe.
