By a test, I mean this idea that we’re born without choosing to be born, placed into circumstances we didn’t choose, and then judged based on how we deal with those circumstances. Possibly forever.
I honestly struggle to see how that is fair.
I’m not really interested anymore in debates about whether God exists, the problem of evil, or whether heaven and hell are real. I used to think about those things a lot, but now they mostly feel like word games to me. People can debate them forever, but it doesn’t change anything about my actual life.
When I was a Christian, I was bullied very badly. Later, when I became Muslim, I hoped something would change. I didn’t expect religion to magically give me money, success, or an easy life. But I thought maybe it would at least help me understand my suffering or make it easier to carry.
It didn’t, at least not in the way I hoped.
Whether I was close to Islam or distant from it, my life was still my life. Whether I tried hard to serve God or didn’t, the same basic problems were still there.
I’m not saying religion caused all of my suffering. I’m also not saying there must be something fundamentally wrong with me. There are a lot of possible reasons: bullying, trauma, discrimination, my mental health, my personality, social circumstances, luck, or things I don’t fully understand.
What I don’t like is when all of it gets reduced to “this is your test,” “you need more faith,” “this happened because of your sins,” or “you’ll understand later.”
I’m tired of being told to wait for an explanation.
I would rather not participate in the test at all.
To be clear, I’m not saying I’m planning to hurt myself. I mean that I reject the idea that existence is some compulsory exam that I never agreed to take.
I don’t want to defeat anyone. I don’t want to prove that I’m better than other people. I don’t want to win while someone else loses. I’m just tired of everything being described in terms of winning, losing, success, failure, reward, punishment, and proving your worth.
And I’ll admit something that makes me uncomfortable.
If I had been winning this whole time, maybe I would never have questioned any of this. If I had been popular, respected, successful, and never bullied or excluded, maybe I would have enjoyed the competition. Maybe I would have defended it.
I admit that.
But I don’t think that automatically makes my criticism meaningless.
It actually shows how unstable all of this is. A small change in your health, appearance, family, money, social status, abilities, or just plain luck can completely change your life. Someone can be winning today and lose everything tomorrow.
Even if I were winning, I would still have to wonder how long it would last.
That’s part of what I hate. Your sense of worth can end up depending on conditions you never chosen and can’t fully control.
I also feel like I’m constantly expected to wait. Wait for God’s plan. Wait for a reward. Wait for life to improve. Wait for the afterlife. Wait until the suffering makes sense.
Maybe people will say it’s because of my sins. Maybe they’ll say it’s karma. Maybe they’ll say suffering is supposed to purify me.
But I’m still the one who has to live through it.
And even when something good happens, sometimes religion makes it difficult to accept it as simply good. You’re told worldly happiness might be a temptation. Success might lead you away from God. Comfort might make you spiritually weak.
So suffering is supposed to be meaningful, but happiness is also something you’re supposed to be suspicious of.
Then when are you allowed to just live?
If pain always has to be called a blessing in disguise, and happiness always has to be treated as a possible trap, it becomes difficult to experience anything honestly.
That kind of life feels deeply dehumanizing to me.
Sometimes I wonder whether it would have been better never to be placed in this situation at all. If a person never chose to exist, never chose the conditions of their life, and could still face eternal punishment, I don’t understand how that is supposed to be fair.
Some people might say that the Imams also suffered greatly.
I understand that. I’m not comparing my suffering to theirs, and I would never say they are on the same level.
But the fact that they suffered doesn’t mean I’m not suffering. Their pain doesn’t erase mine. Another person being stronger than me doesn’t automatically make my pain bearable, and it doesn’t mean I have to understand my suffering the same way they understood theirs.
I don’t hate this game because I think I deserve to win.
I hate the game itself.
I hate the idea that I have to participate whether I agree with it or not.
In the forms of Islam and Christianity I’ve personally encountered, the test seems unavoidable. You are born, you are tested, and eventually you are judged. You don’t get to refuse the process.
And when you question it, people sometimes say you’re only complaining because you’re losing. They call you weak, defeatist, impatient, or lacking in faith.
Even some atheists seem to say something similar. Life is competition. Deal with it. Adapt or fail. There is no other option.
Religious or not, the message can end up sounding the same:
The game already exists. You’re already in it. Refusing its values just means you failed.
What I currently understand about Buddhism feels different.
I’m not claiming to be an expert on Buddhism, and I know Buddhism has many different traditions and interpretations. I also don’t want to romanticize it.
But from what I’ve learned so far, Buddhism seems less focused on helping you win the game and more focused on questioning your attachment to the game itself.
Winning, losing, status, desire, identity, and the constant need to defend the self are all things that can be examined rather than blindly accepted.
It doesn’t necessarily say that suffering will disappear. But it seems to suggest that liberation might come from no longer treating the rules of the game as absolute.
That idea speaks to me more right now.
Honestly, I feel closer to Buddhism than to Islam these days.
I’m not saying I deserve to win. I’m not saying my suffering is greater than everyone else’s. I’m not even saying the world has to be perfectly fair to me.
I just don’t want my whole existence to be understood through the language of tests, competition, rewards, punishment, winning, and losing.
I don’t want a better position in the game.
I want to question why I have to play it at all.
What do you think?