Photo credit: Rayyan Sokkarie, Instagram (@anotherarabgurl1)

Sorry Not Sorry: I’m Muslim, and I Wear Makeup

Growing up and playing with different makeup products was cute and innocent back in my pre-teens.
So tell me this: Why is it as we transition into being young women that makeup becomes taboo amongst some Muslims?
Many defend their stance with the fact that God ordered us to stay true to ourselves, and not change our appearance, since He created us to look the best that we can.
Others tried to convince me that I was only wearing makeup to attract the opposite sex.

Many defend their stance with the fact that God ordered us to stay true to ourselves, and not change our appearance, since He created us to look the best that we can.  Others tried to convince me that I was only wearing makeup to attract the opposite sex.

Excuses, excuses. I’m about to set the record straight on why some of us love makeup by telling you my own story.
Hopefully, it will lend some clarity so you makeup haters and critics back off.
I had always struggled with my self-esteem, trying to fit into clothes that my mother picked out. They would quickly become too small for me. Looking up to my sister’s style, I was constantly stealing clothes from her closet. No matter what size, what shape, what brand, nothing I wore made me feel pretty.
Middle school was by far the hardest; I began wearing the hijab. Good luck finding hijab-friendly clothes to wear in Florida! My outfits were all over the place, and I was all over the place trying to find my place in this sea of middle school kids that did not understand why I wore the headscarf.

Middle school was by far the hardest; I began wearing the hijab. Good luck finding hijab-friendly clothes to wear in Florida! My outfits were all over the place, and I was all over the place trying to find my place in this sea of middle school kids that did not understand why I wore the headscarf.

What they did understand was the art of picking on me. In the locker rooms, I’d be the one wearing the long sleeves under my uniform with others staring at me wondering, “Is this girl nuts?”
Toward the end of those hellish three years, I discovered this thing called eyeliner and I went ham (halal ham, of course).
Eyeliner everywhere, on my eyelid, on my waterline, darkening my eyebrows. My mom was like, “Yeah, whatever! Have fun with that. We’ll see where this goes.” Meanwhile, my sister would low-key judge me, but she mostly just let me be.
Fast forward to being halfway through high school, I’m scrolling through YouTube after a failed attempt of becoming a YouTube star, and I found a playlist of makeup tutorials.
That’s when all hell broke loose, and so did my wallet. Foundation, powder, mascara, all of it.
It’s strange. As I grew up, nobody cared about my sudden interest in makeup. It was just a “phase.”  As a young woman now, some people take the time out of their day to spam my Instagram comments arguing with me over why the kohl on my eyelids–which is sunnah, blush on my cheek, and gloss on my lip is haram. Wait a minute, wasn’t it all fun and games just a couple years ago? Why the big deal now?

It’s strange. As I grew up, nobody cared about my sudden interest in makeup. It was just a “phase.”  As a young woman now, some people take the time out of their day to spam my Instagram comments arguing with me over why the kohl on my eyelids–which is sunnah, blush on my cheek, and gloss on my lip is haram. Wait a minute, wasn’t it all fun and games just a couple years ago? Why the big deal now?

I didn’t start loving, experimenting, and wearing makeup because I wanted to change myself or impress anyone. I wore it for me. Surprised?
Read that again. It’s all me.
My confidence skyrocketed; I became my own person. I played around with different types of lipsticks, messed up on my eyeliner wings a couple of times, but sure as hell felt bomb. *Insert the heavily repetitive joke about why I shouldn’t say “bomb” as a Muslim.*
What I’m trying to say is that this ain’t about you, you, or you. This is about me.

What I’m trying to say is that this ain’t about you, you, or you. This is about me.  I, and so many other girls, wear makeup because it enhances our features; not because Moe from the corner store is cute, or because I’m disappointed in the way Allah created me.

I, and so many other girls, wear makeup because it enhances our features; not because Moe from the corner store is cute, or because I’m disappointed in the way Allah created me.
I understand makeup isn’t for every girl, but it is for me.
I could count on my eyeliner to make my deep brown eyes pop, and my mascara to make my eyelashes reach my eyelids when I couldn’t even depend on others to respect me for my hijab.

I could count on my eyeliner to make my deep brown eyes pop, and my mascara to make my eyelashes reach my eyelids when I couldn’t even depend on others to respect me for my hijab.

I could depend on my blush to make me look alive after spending all day in bed because of a bad day. I could depend on my foundation to hide my acne instead of hiding behind everyone else’s shadows as I had done most of my life.
Like Drake said, “If I was doing this for you, then I’d have nothing left to prove….”
This is for me.