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Would I have become Muslim if I hadn’t set out to do my own research, to probe and investigate independently, to question popular narratives, to delve beneath the surface?

What else could motivate me to take such a momentous step? What profit, gain or advantage? For consider my background.

I am the youngest son of four children, famous for being both extremely timid and shy, raised in a respected family with extremely high expectations.

My mother was one of the first female priests ordained in the Church of England, with degrees in theology.

By then, my father had been a lay preacher for a quarter of a century, was a successful solicitor and later went on to be ordained priest too.

Several relatives worked as Christian missionaries overseas, one of them considered an expert and authority on Islam.

What factor, then, could be considered my primary motivation for pursuing this path?

No, there wasn’t a girl. There were no promises of riches or status. Just that simple pursuit of something resembling the truth.

And so it was in those early days along the road that I continued to probe and investigate everything.

Some of my new brethren grew frustrated with me, for continuing to read articles written by our opponents, or from across sectarian divides.

Indeed, it became a running joke that I would forever ask, “What’s the evidence?” when presented with a new point of view. Or, “What’s the source?” when presented with a hadith I had not heard before.

Thrown into an ocean completely unfamiliar, I would thrash about in search of guidance, questioning everything. And so it has always been.

So why should the present be any different? Why should I not continue to do my own research, to probe and investigate independently, to question popular narratives, to delve beneath the surface?

The search for truth did not cease the day I uttered my testimony of faith. Rather, it is a lifelong mission. To be with the truthful, as the Quran puts it.

Yes, so I put photos of the viral messaging campaign through reverse image searches, where others simply forward them on enraged.

When asked to sign a petition with nowhere to go, I ask myself why. When presented with suspect information, I can’t help but delve into every detail, checking every purported fact.

Perhaps it’s true that this is an obsession. Perhaps it has gone beyond what is reasonable. Perhaps it leads others to other conclusions, that I enjoy being contrary or argumentative, or seek controversy or confrontation.

Well, each can judge intentions as they please. Probably the fairest reproach would be to say it’s bordering on obsessive compulsive behaviour. A kinder rejoinder of my advisors might then be, “Just relax, man, chill out.”

As for ulterior motives, serving different masters unseen? No, I’m just the same obsessive compulsive I’ve always been, forever asking himself, “Is this true?”