الجمال داخل

“Mom, I think I want to convert,” I remember telling my grandmother, who I refer to as mom most times, that I wanted to convert over to Islam. Her response was blunt, “Who are you converting for? are you doing it to benefit yourself or them?” Her response had me thinking. Was I converting to make my parents and the people around me, who were Muslim, proud? or was I doing it because I actually wanted to do it? I spent my whole life doing others wanted me to do, to make them happy but was I actually happy? why would I make a choice to do or be something when I wasn’t actually happy? Who was I doing it for? Me or them? I’d rather make mistakes while doing something that I love while being genuinely happy instead of doing what others wanted, making them happy while I was unhappy.

I remember keeping it bottled up, feeling trapped, feeling forced. I felt like I wasn’t being true to Allah. I felt like I was only Muslim to make my parents feel proud like they accomplished something. I wasn’t born into an Islamic family and I wasn’t around Muslims every day. I was confused, I felt pressured. But I couldn’t reveal that to my family and friends.

When it came to my parents, religion has always been pushed down my throat in the most forceful way. I couldn’t even be able to imagine what would happen to me at home if I declared that I no longer wanted to practice and/or be Muslim to my Muslim family and friends. So, I kept it to myself, which was the hardest thing ever. All I craved was to meeting a human and to be able to relate deeply within but I had yet to find someone with the connection to the beings around me. I thought, “Maybe if I took time to myself and dug deeper into the religion that I would actually be interested.”

First, I discovered the beauty of the five pillars of Islam, which are so gentle and lovingly composed. I still wasn’t convinced though. Fast forward to my start of freshman year. I made friends with someone who changed my outlook on Islam and my life overall... I promise you, this was one of the best things that happened to me. They showed me a side of Islam that I had been longing, and what Islam truly is and how Allah SWT is the most compassionate, forgiving, and merciful. I knew my decision to practice this religion would affect nearly every aspect of my life, but I didn’t care. My decision was a shock to many people, but it is a choice that I have never once regretted. Being Muslim is a lifestyle, not just a religion and wearing the Hijab is a dedication.

When I wear a hijab, I feel like a different person, I feel abnormal. Being more open with my religion was a challenge because people would stare, and when people gazed at me for a long amount of time, I began to feel uncomfortable, as if they’re judging me with their eyes. The Hijab is not just a headscarf, and it’s certainly not a form of oppression. If people actually took the time to understand the real meaning behind the hijab, the values of the hijab, then maybe there wouldn’t be as much ruckus as there is.

One thing that I was hesitant about was revealing that I was Muslim to the world. I never wore the Hijab to school. Would I cover for Ramadan? If I did, how would people react? On the first day of Ramadan, It was a Monday, which meant I had to go to school... Covered. I made my decision. Walking into the building, catching stares that made me uncomfortable. Taking a seat in my first class, I avoided eye contact.

“Hey Riri, I didn’t know you were Muslim.” One of my peers said. “Well Surprise.” I chuckled. Then the questions came flooding in.

“Are you Fasting? Is it Mandatory for you to cover? Do you feel beautiful? Hows your hair under your Hijab? Let me see! Let me seeeee!”

I first informed them that I was fasting and that unless you can’t fast, you should be fasting. I then informed them that it is mandatory for me to cover because it helps me preserve my modesty and morals. I also told them that I am not allowed to describe what my hair looks like under my hijab, for it is a sin to do so. Lastly, I explained that I feel beautiful in my skin and in my Hijab. It felt great to be able to share with others without getting overlooked.

“Do you like to be referred to as a Hijabi?”

“Hijabi” isn’t offensive, but it isn’t the first word I’d use to describe myself, therefore it’s not how I’d like to be defined. I respect women who choose to have the word ‘Hijab’ in their title but for me, I feel as if I’m being placed in another category as if I’m not normal when in reality, we’re just normal people who have a strong passion for our religion.

“Well, Tyria, you look cute.” One of my classmates cooed and I smiled, “Thank you.”  

After recieving many compliments from many of the students, I felt more comfortable. I felt beautiful. I felt proud to be Muslim.