By Last weekend, amidst a deep decluttering of my room, tackling my hijab drawer brought out a heap of emotions for a Muslim girl like myself. Over the past decade of practicing hijab, I have accumulated quite a collection of scarves. I had scarves of different colors, textures, and sizes, and I even acquired prints down the line. My mind ran down memory lane as I touched each of the scarves, thrusting me to ponder about my hijab journey.
It’s been ten years since I decided to start practicing hijab. Ten years of matching a scarf to the rest of my outfit, endless bad hijab days, not feeling good enough to be a “hijabi”, and constantly searching for peace and God’s presence.
The birth
I come from a practicing family and hijab was always encouraged, but never forced. Because I went to an all-girls school for all of my adolescent years, I never felt compelled to truly practice hijab but in my heart, I knew I eventually wanted to. I had always planned to officially practice hijab once I started going to college. It would be a completely fresh start which was more of a reason to start then. I decided to commit to practicing hijab the day after I graduated high school. Why wait? I knew it was something I wanted to do and I felt ready.
Just finishing up high school, I was very naive. I lived a pretty sheltered life as I went to school and then back home, with few occasions of hanging out with friends. I wasn’t exposed to external forces that could disrupt my newfound embrace of the hijab yet. The first year of practicing hijab was seamless. It felt so easy and the transition was so natural for me. I didn’t question my decision and my faith in it remained stagnant. I didn’t know that I was only at the beginning of a tumultuous journey of practicing hijab.
The troubled years
As I became a college student, I acquired more freedom as I had to commute into the city and spend more time building a life outside of my home. I was experiencing so many things for the first time and in turn, I struggled with hijab. I fell into what I like to call, the troubled years. This was the era in my life in which I forgot why I decided to practice hijab and behaved in ways that contradicted how a “hijabi” should act. I remained steadfast in my faith and practiced Islam all the same but I knew that I was struggling to represent as a visible Muslim. It didn’t help that I was also witnessing a surge in Muslim influencers quitting hijab, especially since they built their platforms on content related to their identity as a Muslim woman practicing hijab.
It was heartbreaking to lose representation on the internet and no longer identify with the same content creators who encouraged me to start my hijab journey. It made me fall deeper and deeper into the horrid cycle of questioning my decision to practice hijab and whether or not I was worthy enough to continue. However, even if I knew my actions didn’t match my appearance and I often felt like I wasn’t good enough to practice hijab, I never once considered actually taking off the hijab for good.
The healing
On the prayer mat, I repented for my past incessantly and begged God to help me re-embrace the hijab. I wanted to feel that excitement I had when I draped a scarf around my head for the first time and stepped outside of my home, proud to embark on this new journey. I wanted to feel that connection to my faith and to God. After years of not understanding the meaning of hijab and my own perception of it, I was tired of misrepresenting and not practicing it with all my heart. I put in the effort to revert to a place of happiness by practicing hijab.
This included a variety of things such as doing my own research on the purpose and meaning of hijab, purchasing new scarves to engage in necessary retail therapy, and even finding a different community of Muslim women content creators to follow on social media. I got rid of the negative feelings by erasing the people and circumstances that distracted me from being able to practice hijab how I wanted. I had to rewrite my vows for this new commitment to hijab. Slowly but surely, I was chasing a sense of peace that came with being connected to God and strived to perfect my practice of hijab.
The peace
Somewhere along the way, practicing hijab became a part of my identity. It was something that I struggled with immensely but at the same time, could not part with. My hijab became a symbol of my strength, my endurance, and my constant reminder that I am Muslim. It’s more than just a piece of fabric on my head, it’s a commitment to serving God and being a symbol of Islam in the public’s eye. It is a visible representation of my faith that I am actively choosing to declare to the world every day.
This reminder has encouraged me to view the practice of hijab as an honor and duty instead of as a burden I have to bear. I don’t think my journey with hijab is ever going to be linear. I know there will be ups and downs as I grow older and moments of bad decisions are surely to come by, but as long as I continue to commit to practicing hijab, I’ll always have that direct connection to God. Practicing hijab isn’t meant to be perfect and that is why there is no such thing as perfectly practicing it. It’s something personal and unique to each person on their own journey with Islam.
Ten years later, here I am celebrating a decade’s journey as a proud visibly Muslim girl and it’s all because I chose to practice hijab on a random Saturday afternoon.
What about you? What is your story as a Muslim girl? Reach out to us and let us know!