TOWIE star Junaid Ahmed should be on cloud nine right now. Just a few weeks ago, the reality television favourite announced his engagement to his boyfriend of two years, Joe Blackwood, after popping the question in a dreamy beachside proposal in Albania.
But for Junaid, 31, the joy of impending wedding bells has proven bittersweet — because he knows that there may well be an empty table at his nuptials where his family should be.
The first openly gay Muslim cast member on TOWIE, Junaid was just 18 when he was forced out of the family home in Peterborough, he says, with just £3 in his pocket. His mum and dad, devout Muslims of Pakistani heritage, kicked him out and disowned him.
Thirteen years later, he says that he remains estranged from his family. That is until he recently received a message from out of the blue.
“I’ve not told this to anyone,” he says, his voice slightly quivering. “My mum did text me after my engagement and she called me an embarrassment. I did not think I was going to get a message like that after all these years, especially at such a pivotal moment in my life.
“I think the hardest thing in the world is not seeing my mum's name pop up on my phone in so many years and then pop up on my phone and have that message. It shatters my heart into a million pieces because I sit there and think it's been 13 years since you kicked me out, and you still hold onto that level of shame and embarrassment. It's sad.”
Still, there is a glimmer of hope in Junaid’s voice when he talks about his wedding to Joe, 27. Despite everything, he says he still loves his family and wants them to be there on his big day.
“Call me delusional, but one day I do think we may reconcile,” he says. “I love my mum. I still see mum as one of my best friends. That's the relationship we had. It's a shame that we don't have it anymore.
“I'm planning to get married next year. I'll have a table for them 100 percent, whether they turn up or not. I'm still hopeful in having that relationship with them because they are my blood at the end of the day.”
Junaid grew up with his mum, dad, older brother and three younger siblings — two brothers and a sister — on a council estate in Peterborough, a far cry from his life as a reality star now. Growing up, he and his family were active in the local Pakistani Muslim community, with Junaid regularly attending mosque and learning to read the holy Quran.
But deep down, Junaid always knew he was gay and was terrified of being found out, fearing that his sexuality was incompatible with his family’s religious views.
“I felt like it was literally me against the world. [It was] quite sad, really. When I was a kid, I'd write down plans of how I'd escape and live my life and who I wanted to be,” he says. “I would hide [the] pieces of paper, rip them up, put them in the bin [so] no one could find out.”
When Junaid turned 18, his worst fears were realized. As gossip spread in his local community about his sexuality, he took it into his own hands to make sure his parents heard the truth directly from him.
“It was probably the saddest day of my life, just having them say, ‘You've got to go,’ throwing my clothes out of the windows in bin bags,” he says. “I was a student. I literally just finished my A-levels. I had absolutely nothing at all.”
Junaid left Peterborough for Essex and enrolled at the University of Arts London (UAL), but still just a teenager and cut off from his family, he remembers drinking and partying heavily to cope with his loss.
Six months after being forced out of home, he was dealt another blow when he learned via Facebook that his older brother, his sole confidante within the family, had died while on holiday in Portugal. “He was one of the first people I did come out to. I lost my brother, who accepted me for me,” he says.
While Junaid was able to pay his respects to his brother at his funeral, he immediately returned to solitude in Essex after that painful day. Without the comfort of his family to share his grief with, Junaid admits, “I don't think I fully grieved. Even today, I don't think I've fully dealt with it.”
Over the years, there have been fresh reminders of the family he has lost, too. “I found out on social media a few months ago that my little brother got married. I wasn't invited, and that's a massive pill for me to swallow. It hurts. I get so emotional about it all the time, but there's nothing I can do,” he says.
After all he’s overcome, and as he prepares to settle down with Joe and hopefully start a family of his own, Junaid says that he’s proud to be a gay, Muslim man. He wants to be a beacon for hope for other Muslims who may be struggling with their sexuality. That it doesn’t have to be one or the other.
“I pray every day and I love that,” he says, describing himself as a “modern-day Muslim.” “I pray to God every single day. That's my relationship. That's no one else's business for judgement, for opinion, for anything,” he adds.
“In the Quran, it states people should accept people for who they are. My interpretation personally is that you accept people for who they are. Everyone is on their own journey with life, with God. Let them do what makes them happy because they'll answer to God themselves.”
“Sexuality is not a choice,” he says emphatically. “You don't choose to be gay. You can't help me being gay. There's no medicine to cure it.”
