By Over the years, hijab has been repeatedly exploited, sexualized, and politicized for various reasons that all fail to identify and understand its underlying purpose. In the West, it’s seen predominantly as a symbol of oppression, overlooking the fact that thousands of women wear hijab by choice.
Hijab is often erroneously reduced to a dark piece of cloth that serves a patriarchal purpose. But it’s multi-dimensional and dynamic. It is liberating, empowering, spiritual, and sometimes challenging.
Beyond hijab’s misrepresentation, there’s a common assumption that all Muslim women are veiled, despite the overwhelming number of Muslim women who don’t wear a headscarf. This monolithic description neglects to illuminate the diversity of Muslim women and their various definitions and modes of modesty.
Hijab is often erroneously reduced to a dark piece of cloth that serves a patriarchal purpose. But it’s so much more than that; it’s multi-dimensional and dynamic.
In commemoration of World Hijab Day, we at Muslim Girl asked our writers, hijabi or not, about their thoughts on the hijab and modesty to reveal the diversity of Muslim women, the religious and political struggles surrounding wearing or not wearing a hijab, and the nuances of Muslim women in their relationship with hijab and with God.
Amanda Sadler
Age when started wearing hijab: 32
What’s your hijab story?
I started researching why women from various faiths cover their hair. During this time, I rekindled my interest in Islam. Just before my 32nd birthday, I converted to Islam. A few months before that, I began experimenting with various head coverings like wide headbands and bandanas. Within six months of converting, I decided to cover my hair completely, sometimes with a turban and other times with a more traditional hijab, experimenting with styles from various cultures.
We moved to a new state and I began looking for a job. Every job I interviewed for and was sure I would get, passed me over.
At first, my husband hated it. He would constantly remind me of how beautiful my hair was and how much he loved seeing it. After a few months, he grew to accept it and even bought me several scarves. My dad would make comments about that “Arabic thing.” “Everyone is going to laugh at you!” my husband’s aunt exclaimed. Through all of the remarks, I decided I was doing this to please God alone and would not be taking it off.
We moved to a new state and I began looking for a job. Every job I interviewed for and was sure I would get, passed me over. I began to wonder if my hijab had something to do with it. As an experiment, I decided to go to my next interview without a scarf. Sure enough, I was hired on the spot for a position I was not qualified for. I could have put my scarf back on, but decided to keep it off. I ended up leaving that job several months later. I took another job after interviewing, sans hijab. I was hired and after a few months, I could not deal with lying to myself anymore. I put my scarf back on and have worn it ever since.
Have you ever considered removing it?
Occasionally, I re-evaluate wearing it. Is my heart in the right place? Do I still believe this is what God wants me to do?
What does hijab and/or modesty mean to you?
My hijab is my choice and a symbol of my faith and submission to God. Choosing to wear it does not make me any better than a woman who does not wear it. We all serve God in our own way. I could take it off and blend into the community I live in, but I know I would not be fooling anyone.
Marwa Abdulhai
Age when started wearing hijab: 8
What’s your hijab story?
I began wearing the hijab at the age of 8, clueless as to what it meant in a post-9/11 world. At the time, I went to an Islamic school in Seattle, W.A. where most girls wore the hijab in school as part of the dress code — but for some reason, I decided to continue to wear it on a regular basis. I felt so comfortable with my hijab that my mother had to force me to remove it right before going to bed. All in all, the hijab had become an integral part of my identity even before I realized the consequences of my decision and the message it conveyed to those around me.
When you’re a little kid, you are oblivious to the scores of people staring at you as you run with your two-piece hijab and awkward fashion sense through the aisles of Costco or bike through the neighborhood with your friends. But as you grow older and encounter unwritten rules that forbid you from following your aspirations and dreams, you are forced to reach maturity much earlier than your peers.
Now as a college student applying for internships in the software development industry, there is always a nagging feeling in my mind that I might not get the job solely based on that piece of cloth I wear on my head.
Since Seattle, I moved to Lorton in Virginia, Doha in Qatar, Dubai in the UAE, Holmdel in New Jersey, and finally Cambridge in Massachusetts, where I now attend MIT as a freshman. In some places more than others, I’ve faced enormous barriers in developing relationships with teachers and peers, finding modest sportswear to play the sports that I loved, and gaining access to resources in my interests. It was in middle school when I was forced to consider what my motivations were in wearing the hijab as a result of being in an environment, where Muslim girls began to remove the hijab at the pressure of peers. Modesty had become my form of empowerment and through it I found people who appreciated the ideas thriving in my head rather than what I wore on top of it.
Have you ever considered removing it?
For some reason or the other, Allah (SWT) had placed a fierce determination and belief in my heart at the time to not give up and refuse to believe in the bizarre idea that a piece of cloth covering my hair should dictate my success at friendships, academics or sports. Now as a college student applying for internships in the software development industry, there is always a nagging feeling in my mind that I might not get the job solely based on that piece of cloth I wear on my head. But with patience and belief in Allah’s will, I know that only He will help me find a way to succeed with my beliefs and morals fully intact.
What does hijab and/or modesty mean to you?
I wear the hijab proudly, for it clearly identifies me as a Muslim woman who is proud of her faith. With a surge in hate crimes and new legislation being passed against people like me, I know there will always be the uncertainty of a peaceful future in this country I call my home. Yet instead of complaining of the negative portrayal of the hijab in the media or living in fear of a potential Muslim immigration ban, I’ve learned to embrace and make the most of my situation, because nothing will change unless I do something about it. I fully intend to pursue my dreams with unflinching faith in my Creator who will protect me and make me stronger with every obstacle to my way of life.
Jennah Haque
What does hijab and/or modesty mean to you?
I’ve never worn hijab permanently. To me, hijab symbolizes a choice between you and God. It’s something that no other person is involved in, and it’s a decision that no one can make for you. I personally feel like I’ve found avenues in connecting with God other than covering my hair, but I still really applaud anyone who has chosen to wear the headscarf. It’s funny, because almost all the women on my dad’s side are veiled, and virtually no woman on my mom’s side chose to cover their hair.
Even though the choice to veil or not to veil is split nearly right down the middle in my family, I never noticed any major disparities in their faith.
And even though the choice to veil or not to veil is split nearly right down the middle in my family, I never noticed any major disparities in their faith. I consider all the women in my family, hijabi or not, to be good people. Great, in fact. They are intelligent, kind, loving and beautiful women.
Society often puts Muslim women in this tiny box, where they have to look a certain way and follow a strict dress code defined by them. In reality, not all Muslim women choose to veil, so why doesn’t media portray us like that? I support any woman who puts that crown on her head, but I also admire the women who chose otherwise.
Nihal Mubarak
Age when started wearing hijab: 15
What’s your hijab story?
I started wearing the hijab in tenth grade after my family and I moved to Texas. After seeing the diversity in my new school, that had been lacking in ~Small Town~, A.L., it didn’t take me long to decide that I wanted to start dressing more modestly and wear the headscarf.
As the epitome of who I wanted to be as a young Muslim woman, my mother taught me that wearing hijab is about having character and a strong belief system.
I found courage in watching the women in my family, especially my mother. As the epitome of who I wanted to be as a young Muslim woman, my mother taught me that wearing hijab is about having character and a strong belief system. At 15, I felt I was beginning to develop that character. My family was highly supportive, but didn’t pressure me to wear hijab, and left the decision to me.
What does hijab and/or modesty mean to you?
My hijab is as much a part of me as my hands are; it’s a lifestyle and a life-long commitment. It’s easy for others who are misinformed to look at me and see only a piece of cloth on my head. What they don’t understand is that for me, hijab is far removed from fashion and questions of political influence. I’ve never regretted my decision and I never will.
Hira Ismail
Age when started wearing hijab: 14
What’s your hijab story?
It’s been 10 years since I first began wearing hijab. When I was 11, I made a pact with my best friend Amenah that we would start wearing hijab when we were in the ninth grade. I wanted to take on the commitment to something that I felt went beyond myself. I wanted to identify very visibly as Muslim and to be modest. I considered everything from if I was prepared to forever take on questions from strangers about my headscarf to the realization that wearing jewelry, especially necklaces, would never be the same again. I took the idea that once I started, I would stay with it and could never turn back very seriously. I thought in those years that I could tackle every doubt that I might have about hijab and be able to sail through the rest of it.
I’m working in dance, theater, writing, there are no limits. If I can do it, you can too.
I was the first in my family to start. Priming my parents to let me wear it took a lot. They were worried about the exposure it would give and scared for my safety. It was my teenage rebellion of sorts. I insisted that I wanted to create a space for myself and that people here would just have to accept it.
I still remember the day I sat in the car with my dad and sister, hijab and salwar kameez intact (because why not go all the way on the first day?) and felt frozen to my seat. I was nervous, the significance of the moment weighing down on me. This is it. I said goodbye to my dad but didn’t move. He sat there quietly with me, letting me take my time and then reminded me I didn’t have to. I said I want to and finally left the car with my hijab on.
In the years since, my relationship with it has changed. Sometimes I feel I’m wearing it out of reverence to Allah (SWT), sometimes out of habit. Sometimes I think I owe it to the other Muslim girls out there — I’m here for you. I’m working in dance, theater, writing, there are no limits. If I can do it, you can too. I cherish deeply the ways in which we can create these female spaces with it — our hijabs are off, no men allowed.
Have you ever considered removing it?
I think sometimes that it’s served its purpose, that I have learned and grown so much from being visibly Muslim. I love being dressed ready for prayer, I love how it serves as a reminder of Allah in my life. But I’m somewhere in the middle with it. I would like to wear it when I feel like it and remove it when I feel comfortable or in a safe space.
However, in this country where our hijab is angrily contested, the definition is so narrow. Either you wear it or you don’t, and people like boxes with clear labels, none of this ambiguity. I can just imagine the confused conversations: But weren’t you wearing it yesterday? Why do you take it off there but not here? I fear that people will view that ambiguity as a reason to not allow hijab to be worn for religious reasons. “You took it off there so now you have to take it off for your passport picture.” “Is it really a religious garment if you’re always changing your mind about it?”
I took the idea that once I started, I would stay with it and could never turn back very seriously. I thought in those years that I could tackle every doubt that I might have about hijab and be able to sail through the rest of it.
I reject anyone’s attempts to define it for me. My initial decision to wear it was so intensely personal. I feel like that space is being stepped into. My wonderful form of self-expression is being crowded. The expectation is that because I started, I should never stop.
Whether people tell me to take it off or keep it on, it irks me. Where did they get the license to comment on how I should go about hijab. Wasn’t that supposed to be between me and Allah?
What does hijab and/or modesty mean to you?
My definition of modesty has changed, and I never really thought of the headscarf as a requirement, never thought that everyone should have to wear it. “Hijab” and “headscarf” were no longer synonymous to me. Hijab is so much more than clothing. It’s an inner respect of God, an ability to stay grounded, to respect yourself and others as people, not objects. This comes from me and my heart, not my clothing. Though clothing can become an outer expression of it, a tool, each person approaches the concept of hijab differently and I love to celebrate that diversity of thought.
Leah Vernon
Age when started wearing hijab: 7
What’s your hijab story?
I started wearing the hijab when I was around 6 or 7 years old. I wanted to wear it because mom wore it and she looked beautiful and she was proud. She converted to Islam when I was little and at first, she struggled with it. Then it became a way of life. We belonged to a conservative mosque so black, navy, and brown were common hijab colors. Later, she figured out that she could wear colors even though the others hadn’t. Mom was a bit of a rebel. She bought all kinds of colored scarves and matched each one with her outfits.
She’d also have princess dresses made for me with scarves to match. One time I had on an all-white dress with poofy shoulders and a white scarf trailing down my back. I felt like a little Muslim princess. Around that age, I didn’t feel as though the hijab was forced on me. I wanted to do it. But as time went on and I started the puberty stage and the “cutesy” hijab was starting to become a nuisance.
Have you ever considered removing it?
At times, it became a chore because I was tired of people asking me if I was a nun or why I had a pillowcase on my head. I got stares and I was deemed different. Every teen’s worst nightmare.
At that time, I did consider removing it — and I did when I was with my non-Muslim dad. I came home with a pair of shorts on and no scarf. I thought mom would spank me, but she didn’t. I think she wanted me to want to wear it.
One time I had on an all-white dress with poofy shoulders and a white scarf trailing down my back. I felt like a little Muslim princess. Around that age, I didn’t feel as though the hijab was forced on me. I wanted to do it.
When I got to college, I removed it a handful of times. But for the most part, I wrapped it in a turban or just wore it in the traditional style. It wasn’t a big deal to me.
Now as an adult, I have come to terms with it. That it’s my choice solely. I wear it 99 percent of the time and when I don’t want to, I don’t. Do I feel a pang of guilt as the wind whips through my scalp and no one knows that I’m a hijabi? Yes. Am I working on being a better Muslim? For the most part.
What does hijab and/or modesty mean to you?
Modesty to me is many things depending on the day. At times, I think it’s wearing a black abaya with a veil on my face and other times, I think it comes from within. What’s in your heart. I can’t really answer that right now because it’s ever-changing.
Tahira Ayub
Age when started wearing hijab: 12
What’s your hijab story?
I started wearing the hijab because it was just something that seemed like a natural succession — I have three older sisters that were, by then, already wearing it. Although I wouldn’t have admitted it back then, I wanted to do everything they did. I remember feeling a little bit nervous when I did finally start wearing my hijab, but I started in the summer so that I could ease myself into it before school started. I was nervous about how other people would see me with it on, since I had started middle school without it. Truthfully, I think I was a little embarrassed when I had to explain it to people and today, I can look back and say confidently that I was only embarrassed because I didn’t really know what it meant.
My understanding of what the hijab meant to me and to my faith really didn’t hit me until I was a freshman in college. Once I realized how powerful it is to wear the hijab, especially with everything that has been going on in our world today, I found myself wrapping it a little tighter and holding my head a little higher. I love when people ask me questions now!
Have you ever considered removing it?
Never, alhumdulillah. (Though I will admit, I often thought about how much easier it would be to run cross-country in high school if I didn’t wear it).
Truthfully, I think I was a little embarrassed when I had to explain it to people and today, I can look back and say confidently that I was only embarrassed because I didn’t really know what it meant.
What does hijab and/or modesty mean to you?
Hijab to me means power, modesty, humility, and courage. Especially in our political climate, where so much focus and hatred is on Muslims, it’s so easy to feel discouraged and unwelcome in so many levels. Any act of visible faith feels like a target, or an invitation for people to notice you. While I completely understand the reasons behind others choosing to remove the hijab in times like these, I’m thankful that I have never been in a situation where I find it necessary for myself. I’m so thankful for that, because I can’t imagine how difficult that decision must be.
I have found that throughout the hardships that our ummah is facing today, my hijab provides me a reminder of who I am and that this life and all its pain and suffering is not our ultimate goal. It reminds me to be humble before God, to approach everything I do with both humility and strength. It’s my protection from harm and my source of courage when I feel anything but brave.
Iman Abid
What does hijab and/or modesty mean to you?
I’m 24 years old and I don’t wear the hijab, I always wanted to wear it, but always hesitated. Many of the women in my life wear hijab and take such pride in it, just as they should. I haven’t admitted this to myself, but I strongly believe that it was being raised in a place that glorifies Western culture that I never chose to wear it myself. And I really think that subconsciously, it’s because of the culture that surrounded me — where it was not acceptable to wear it.
Throughout my life, I embraced hijab as a symbol of Muslim identity, empowerment, and unconditional love for Allah.
Throughout my life, I embraced hijab as a symbol of Muslim identity, empowerment, and unconditional love for Allah. Growing up, I understood it as a sacrifice and as a means of exemplifying the beauty within. It meant not being afraid of your Muslim identity and that you could transform the culture of beauty in a way that no other faith can.
Guest Blogger
Age when started wearing hijab: 20
What’s your hijab story?
I used to think I’d never wear it, but during college I went through a transition and started giving my faith more importance. Before committing to wearing the hijab, I started trying to cover up more. Eventually, it got to the point where I felt like I needed to wear the hijab in order to feel comfortable about fulfilling my obligation to God. I wanted to show Him that I was grateful for my religion and newfound faith, and was trying to practice it to the best of my ability. And I wanted to show the world that I’m a Muslim. That’s one of the things that I like the most about wearing the hijab — the fact that everyone knows that I believe in this beautiful, perfect message to humanity.
Have you ever considered removing it?
Even though the political climate has gotten progressively worse since I started wearing the hijab, I have never seriously considered taking it off. I actually started wearing it without telling my parents, because I knew that they might tell me not to for the sake of my safety.
For me, the hijab doesn’t symbolize modesty. People can be modest without wearing a headscarf, and they can be immodest while wearing it.
Now, I feel that my husband worries about my safety because of it, too. But wearing it is my own choice, unlike what many people think. I didn’t start wearing it because of anyone, and I won’t take it off for anyone, either.
What does hijab and/or modesty mean to you?
For me, the hijab doesn’t symbolize modesty. People can be modest without wearing a headscarf, and they can be immodest while wearing it. It means, first and foremost, my commitment to pleasing God. My hijab is my effort to follow Islam to the best of my ability, the way that God asked me to. I love it, because I love Him. And that’s enough for me.
Marwa Adina
What are your thoughts on hijab and/or modesty?
I am 19 years old and *still* do not wear the hijab. My entire life, I’ve struggled with not only self-identity but also religious acceptance. I knew I was Muslim for as long as I can remember. I was afraid to let the rest of the world know I was Muslim, however. I was scared of what they would think of me. I was the girl that hid her prayer rug in college because I did not want to scare away my international roommate. Wearing the hijab, in my opinion at the time, was a physical representation of a target. I was scared.
I see [hijabi women] as examples of a revolution in cycle — each continuously fighting one’s self to be their representations of Islam.
Frankly, I still am scared. I am afraid for all my sisters in Islam that wear it with confidence. There are days were I wear a scarf around my head loosely just to get the world ready for my embrace of self. And while many see the hijab as a symbol of complete submission — a reflection of a pious being, I think otherwise. The hijab, to me, is a reminder of the daily struggle we go through as Muslims. It is a reminder to one’s self to overcome our own self-struggle against sins. I don’t see hijabis as individuals that have reached this ultimate level of purity, although some surely have. Rather, I see them as examples of a revolution in cycle — each continuously fighting one’s self to be their representations of Islam.
Laila Khan
Age when started wearing hijab: 9
What’s your hijab story?
I went to Islamic sunday school to learn about Islam, and so hijab was always on my mind. I’m the youngest in my family; I have an older sister who started wearing hijab a year before me and countless cousins and aunts who wore it confidently and proudly. So, it came very naturally to me.
As I was leaving, I suddenly remembered my internal promise to become a hijabi, so I ran back inside to grab my hijab and left the house with it on ever since.
In fact, on my 9th birthday I remember clearly, my parents had a birthday party for me at home, and we were all going to the park. As I was leaving, I suddenly remembered my internal promise to become a hijabi, so I ran back inside to grab my hijab and left the house with it on ever since.
Have you ever considered removing it?
Never seriously. I mean I’ve gone through phases in high school where I would think if I took off my hijab I would look better, or I would get more attention (lame), but I just sort of understood that as my struggle. I had a really great support system comprised of both family and friends whom I would talk to about it.
What does hijab and/or modesty mean to you?
I used to just think of it as an extra piece of cloth that’s just covering my body and hair. And as I grew up, I sort of grew into the reasons I chose the hijab for myself. Ultimately for me, it is both a powerful and inspiring statement that I can break the expectations and objectification of women in this world, and take one step closer in choosing God and my beliefs over the desires of this world.
So true.