Why Deism? Why I Left Islam for Deism

I chose deism for several reasons. But to explain that properly, I first have to explain how and why I left Islam.

One of the earliest influences was my upbringing. I grew up in the USA, although I’m not a U.S. citizen. I returned to my home country when I was around 15, and later, at the age of 20, I started working to support my family during a financially difficult time. I was already living in a dysfunctional home, and all I wanted was to pursue an undergraduate degree, which I still have not been able to do.

When I entered the workplace in Pakistan, I was honestly shocked. I saw married men making extremely graphic and inappropriate comments about women—things I would feel ashamed to even repeat. I had always assumed that because they were Muslims, they would behave better, but what I saw was completely different. There was also a level of cheating and dishonesty that deeply disturbed me. I don’t think I had seen anything like that growing up in the USA.

That was the first time I started to feel a kind of bitterness toward the religion—not necessarily just the beliefs, but the way people who followed it behaved. At the same time, I was struggling personally, and I felt like God wasn’t helping me despite the fact that I hadn’t done anything to deserve what I was going through. Eventually, I left the religion.

Later, around the age of 28, I got married and moved to Dubai, United Arab Emirates (UAE). Without going into too much detail, I ended up suffering due to polygamy, which is permitted in Islam. The problems that came from that situation were deeply painful, and I began researching more. I found that many others—especially children who grew up seeing their mothers suffer in similar situations—also ended up leaving the religion. That realization stayed with me.

I had already left Islam once before, but I returned to it around the time of my marriage. After leaving my ex-husband, I eventually left the religion again—this time for good.

Now, living in the UAE, I’ve observed something else that surprised me. The environment here can feel very contradictory. In my experience, some of the most promiscuous behavior I’ve seen has come from people who identify as Muslim. Again, I’m not trying to target anyone unfairly, but this has been my personal observation, and it added to my growing discomfort.

However, these experiences were only one side of the story. The other side was intellectual.

Even before my marriage, I had started questioning the logic behind religious narratives. Stories about prophets—like Moses turning a staff into a snake, or the Virgin Mary giving birth, or Jesus walking on water—felt, to me, more like something out of a fairy tale. Maybe I’m wrong, but I couldn’t reconcile these ideas with the reality I see today.

I began thinking about how ancient civilizations, like the Greeks, once believed in their own mythologies—figures like Zeus—and later moved away from those beliefs. That made me question whether religious stories might be similar.

I also struggled with the idea of revelation. If God exists, why would He communicate through selected individuals rather than directly with everyone? Why rely on dreams, intermediaries, or specific people? If someone today claimed to be a prophet based on a dream, we would likely dismiss them. So why should it be different in the past?

For me, it became difficult to believe in something I could not see or verify—aside from the idea of a Creator itself. I do believe that something must have initiated existence. There has to be some kind of beginning. But beyond that, I cannot accept the structure of organized religion.

I also feel strongly that religion does not determine whether someone is good or bad. Character does. In my own life, I’ve seen people who are atheists or not particularly religious behave far better toward others than many who are deeply religious. This has been especially noticeable in my own community, which is why I speak about it from experience rather than theory.

That’s ultimately what led me to Deism. I believe in a Creator, but I don’t feel the need for organized religion or for someone to tell me what to believe, how to live, or what is right and wrong in a rigid sense. I find more peace in Deism.

I also believe that if we, as a society, moved away from religious divisions—whether by believing only in a Creator or even by setting aside belief altogether—there might be more peace in the world. Religion, in many ways, has caused deep conflict throughout history. As someone once said, religion can be one of the greatest sources of division for mankind, and I find myself agreeing with that perspective.

This is how I came to where I am today, a Deist, and will never go back!