Hijab – It is an idea I have grown up with. It was not the result of a life-changing event or a sudden religious epiphany. I started covering my hair (on and off at the beginning) when I was about ten years old. Before you jump to any conclusions – let me make it clear that my parents did not force me into it. But it wasn’t until much later that I actually started wearing the ‘Hijab’ – until I learnt that true Hijab was more than a piece of cloth that covered your hair.

I always liked the idea of wearing hijab when I was younger- it made me feel special though I couldn’t really put a finger on why that was. Hijab was not something I dived into headfirst; I waded into it step by step. And by wading into it I don’t mean I put it on piece by piece – rather I mean I learned to appreciate the value of it day by day as I got a little older and just a tad bit wiser!

I learnt over the years that Hijab is not just a headscarf, long sleeves, and a garmet that flows to my ankles. I learnt that hijab is a way of life. It is the way you walk down the street. It is the tone of your voice when talking to members of the opposite sex. It is the places you hang out in after school and the friends you have around you all the time. Simply put – It is the way you carry yourself. A scarf on your head cannot simply define who you are. You can wrap a pashmina around your head but still be a flirt. You can wear long sleeves but still l look at all the wrong thngs. You can be covered from head to toe and still not be in a state of Hijab (and yes, here I refer to Hijab as a state you are in, not just an object wrapped around your head). However, the way you carry yourself can define the person you are. The way you walk can show modesty. The way you talk can earn you respect. The places you hang out in can show your values. And the friends you have can be a reflection of who you are.

When you think of Hijab the right way – It does not seem constraining or opressive. Rather, you will realize that it is a shield that is handed to you so you can better protect yourself – not a weapon of cruelty used to unnecessarily torture you.

The next time you walk down the street in your Hijab, remember that it is about more than just your headscarf. Remember that Allah wants you to be protected. Allah wants you to be protected because you are special – very, very special! For who would go through all the effort to protect something that was worthless in the first place?

 Often times we lose sight of what our true purpose is in life. And yet, there are reminders all around us.  

Our preoccupation with life gets in the way of our dedication to religion. Our “life” gets in the way of salat. Our “life” gets in the way of remembering Allah ta’ala. Our day may revolve around our education, our children, our parents, our wants, our earnings. Our busy days often distract us from our true purpose, pleasing Allah.

However, we have been blessed with reminders to guide us back to our true purpose in life. A beautiful and practical reminder is the blessing of hijab. Use your hijab as your aid in remembering Allah as often as you can. So, even when you get up for school or work, when you step in front of that mirror to put on your hijab, don’t worry so much about how well it matches or if it’s perfectly pinned. Instead, worry about whether or not it’s fulfilling its purpose. Throughout the day, when you see your reflection in a window or when you take a moment to tuck in the strand of hair, look at your hijab and remember what it represents.

Is it reminding you that you are a Muslim? Is it reminding you that you are a believer in the one Lord? Is it reminding you to praise Allah?

We can use these moments to remember that what we have on our head represents what we believe in our hearts. It is the perfect opportunity to gain blessings. Simple dhikr during those moments can increase our good deeds. So even if you are having a busy day with running errands, working or shuffling from one class to another, you can use your hijab not just for modesty, but to remember Allah every chance you get!

Guest writer Bint Yousuf details her friend’s journey towards finding inner freedom.

A smile in passing, an “Assalamu ‘alaykum” when our paths would cross and an occasional “whats-up-with-you?” was the limit of our contact.

However, towards the end of our first year of university together, that changed. In class, attendance was low since we were nearing the time of our term exams. Often a few of us would loiter in the back of the lecture hall and talk about every conceivable matter: talks of the Sahabah, dowries and extravagant weddings, deceiving appearances, what we heard in a lecture, and  amazing incidents from the lives of people who had tawakkul upon Allah. Our talks together  felt out of this world. Just as the teacher would walk out, we would instantly draw closer and immerse ourselves in iman-lifting, thought-provoking conversations.

We were changing. Together.

Being a niqabi, my change was more internal, while hers was a mix of both. Pre-university years, she was the very definition of a high-society party girl. Tights, drop-shoulder shirts, intermingling, high-fives, gossiping, back-biting –the regular stuff. I didn’t know her then, but apparently she was a lot different. It’s hard to believe that though, as I now know her to be the sweetest, friendliest person imaginable.

Once she had gone to the cinema with her friends in just such an outfit, when an auntie asked her to wear a scarf on her head. She carelessly draped it on, not really thinking about it. Later, she felt eyes on her. People were laughing at her, wearing hijab with such clothes. She felt really hurt.

When she started university, she decided she’d cover her hair and dress modestly –at least within the bounds of university. Outside, she felt conflicted. Her friends weren’t really the sort to accept this change of hers, and neither were her family.

Second year started. We started listening to Islamic lectures together. Sometimes we’d even sit in the library just to read  the Tafseer of the Qur’an together.

One day, she walks up to me and a group of friends and points at her eyebrows. She had stopped getting them plucked! She looked very delighted, too. We hugged and congratulated her. She said it had just stopped mattering.

A few days later, while sitting together with her and another friend who wore an abaya,  she was telling us about how this girl she knew had gone to a popular spot in Karachi and had been mistaken for a “not-so-good” girl. She admitted that had really scared her….  As we shifted onto another topic, and with a million thoughts swirling in my head, I finally asked her: so what’s stopping you from taking that next step?

She looked at me, speechless.

After a moments of screaming silence, with a new light in her eyes,  she could say nothing.

“Has not the time come for the hearts of those who believe to be affected by Allah’s Reminder…?” (57:16)

She messages me the next morning, before class: she wanted to start wearing the abaya! Apparently, that question had left its mark on her. Having admitted that there was nothing stopping her as such, she was eager to plunge ahead. However, her friends were discouraging her saying she was taking things too quickly, and to first focus on changing herself internally and all that. She really wanted to start though. I hurriedly texted her a reply:

Only you know when you are ready. People will always talk, but it’s the pleasure of Allah that’s important. And eventually, you’ll see. Allah SWT will put love and acceptance into other people’s hearts as well. Go for it!

I told her what made my sister take the next step. She was sitting in a lecture during her Hajj. The Sheikh  had made a du’aa: Oh Allah, we wish to adorn ourselves with the uniform, the outer appearance of a Muslim. So too adorn our insides with the character of a Muslim.

We should do what we can, I thought; whatever it is that we are ready for at this moment, and to not delay it even a second. And leave the rest to Allah subhanahu wa ta’ala.

She replies, “I know I am ready. I was planning to start in third year, but who knows whether I’ll be alive till then. If I want to swim, I’ll never learn unless I get into the pool first. Insha Allah, I’ll start and hope for the best.”

She wore an abaya the next day. Inspired by her, another of our classmates who had wanted to start for a long time but didn’t have the courage to do it alone- came wearing an abaya too. They looked gorgeous. Sweet and innocent, with an inner glow. It was a wonderful day. We were on a iman high. And it was Ramadan.

I was so happy for them; for the start of their journey to attaining the pleasure of Allah subhanahu wa ta’ala.

Her family ridiculed and mocked her. The first day she wore it, everyone took a turn to comment on her. She cried in front of her mom that day, and later in front of us. Her sister would comment, when she was going out to an iftaar party wearing perfume: “Huh! So you’re wearing perfume?!” Another time, when she was planning to visit UK, her sister would mockingly ask her, “So what will you wear there?” With tears in her eyes, she’d exclaim to us: why do people expect me to be perfect overnight?

Once, she was advising one of her hijabi friends in class how it is just not okay to talk to guys so freely. It really touched me how sweetly, entreatingly, she was saying: “Listen you know me. You know how I was. And now I’m not like that anymore, I feel so good. It feels so right inside.”

Once she came up to me and told me how she wore an abaya to her first big gathering. A lot of people appreciated her step, but one auntie was like, “Hmm, this isn’t fun… oh well, its okay. You’re just going through a phase. Even my daughter in Ohio went through a two-year abaya period. She got over it.”

With that light in her eye, she said to me: “I will not get over it. I don’t understand how anyone can.”

Hijab isn’t just something on the outside. And she’s taken that to heart. To give another example of how ready she was to change, she told me, “I know I cant shake hands with my brother-in-law anymore. Or uncles. But I don’t know what to do when they approach me. I just sort of shuffle my hands and hold them close to give them a hint.”

Her brother-in-law even said to her, “Hey so now you’re not going to celebrate your birthday, right? I hope it means you’ll still give us presents when its ours.”

That got me thinking: inside, we all really do know what’s right and what isn’t, but we  just aren’t willing to accept it. We know there’s one God and that we obey Him because that’s what’s right; why don’t we just embrace it?

So are you ready to take that next step? It won’t be easy, or hey –it just may be a joy ride if you’ve got the support! But remember this: insha Allah it will be oh-so-worth-it in the end.

“And whosoever is conscious of Allah, He will make a way for him to get out (from every difficulty). And He will provide him from (sources) he never could imagine. And whoever puts his trust in Allah, then He will suffice him. Verily, Allah will accomplish His purpose. Indeed Allah has sent a measure for all things.” (65:2-3)

Maimuna stood there quietly memorizing me as I pinned my hijab beneath my chin and wrapped a piece of the blue material around my neck and tied it into a knot on the side. She left the room while I gathered diapers and sweaters to put in the diaper bag; we were getting ready to go visit a friend that evening.

She came back with a bright pink Turkish hijab with polka dots scattered all over and lifted it to my face and said in a slow voice, “Heedaab.” I stood there stunned and realized she was saying hijab for the first time. And she wanted to wear one right before we left. I had just fixed her hair into a little ponytail on top of her head and looked at the hijab dangling from her hands and thought, uh, this hijab doesn’t even match her dress.

Then I stopped my irrelevant thoughts and realized how silly I was being. I should have been proud and excited that my two and a half-year-old daughter wanted to go out and wear hijab… hello! No one was even forcing or persuading her, she was doing it all on her own; how could I say no to that? She would randomly wear the hijab in the house or wear her outfit for prayer and join me sometimes, but she never actually initiated wanting to wear one when we went out.

I exclaimed, “Hijab! Come here and let me wrap it for you.” As I fixed the hijab onto her round head, trying to push back the stubborn locks of curls peeking out of the material, I felt the pride and happiness rising into Maimuna’s face. Her cheeks were rosier, her brown eyes sparkled, and I knew exactly what she was feeling at that moment: complete warmth and satisfaction.

It was the feeling you get when someone compliments you on your smile; it was the tingling when you knew you were going to your best friend’s house, and it was those “butterflies” fluttering inside your stomach when you were with the people you loved. It was the feeling of that warm stroke when your mother swept her hand across your head as she put you to sleep. This was what Maimuna was feeling. Interestingly enough, I was feeling the same way.

As I was tying her hijab, she stood there patiently and calmly, which is unusual since I am more acquainted with her much more wilder and untamed side when it came time to go out. To change Maimuna’s clothes or to get her to put on her shoes, I would have to go through all types of hurdles just to grab her and get her to follow directions: jumping on couches, racing through curtains, knocking over dining chairs, rolling through mountains of pillows, and springing atop beds.

But there was a sense of serenity and maturity emanating from Maimuna that seemed so magical while I was donning on the hijab for her. Usually I tie the hijab pieces behind her head, but this time I wrapped it around her neck and tied it at the side. Just like mine.

Maimuna noticed this specific action and squealed with delight because she knew I was taking her seriously. I was not just carelessly tying the hijab for her but she knew I was taking the time to fix and adjust the hijab as if I were wearing it. She appreciated this because she looked at me with pride and happiness that glowed from her little moon face.

When I finished adorning her attire, she turned around and looked at the full-length mirror before her. She smoothed her dress down and lifted her small hands and caressed the hijab. Maimuna turned to the side and looked at her reflection. Then a slow, proud smile spread across and radiated her whole face.

_______________

Mariam Al-Kalby is the founder of Maktoob-Untold Words by Muslims. She has been featured in various publications which include:  Maktoob, Damazine, InFocus News, MiniMuslimeen Magazine, Al Talib Newspaper, Muslimahsource.org, and MBMuslima Magazine. You can explore her website at createmaktoob.com or send her an email at mariam@createmaktoob.com.

It’s a sad unfortunate sight. I’ll be going about my usual day when suddenly I see a hint of familiarity. The hesitation comes first, but the second time I look, I’m reassured. My mind isn’t playing tricks on me. I know that girl. I recognize her face. But she looks so different; almost like a stranger without that soft fabric enveloping her head. As our eyes meet, I smile guiltily like I’ve been prying, but we converse as if nothing has changed.

Internally, there is a barrage of emotions and questions running within me. A touch of sorrow, a desire to reach out, but most of all a burning curiosity. Why did you take it off? What terrible experience or thought pushed it? Were you that miserable with it on? But the questions remain thick in the air, unanswered, and neglected because I never have the courage to bring the subject up. I don’t want to sound rude, intruding, or a know-it-all who has the habit of judging others. So what do I do?

Well, I have a theory I’d like to share. And perhaps one day, if I have the guts to ask why, I’ll find out if there is some truth in it. Here we go.

Theory A: I don’t understand why I need to wear the hijab.

Some of us start wearing hijab when we are very young; at a time when we don’t even understand the reasoning behind it. Maybe you are like me, who was excited to wear the hijab because everyone else was wearing it and it was cool to look like the older girls. Or maybe you’re the one who wore the hijab simply because it was another thing you had to do in addition to brushing your teeth at night and memorizing those surahs. Either way, when we start wearing hijab at a young age, we don’t really have a choice. We obey our parents. But eventually we grow up and we are not as innocent anymore. We see the world around us and we become skeptical. We don’t want to wear it anymore because simply put, it doesn’t feel right.

Our rationality, or what we think is rational, becomes our tool to defeat the hijab. Some ask the question—why do I need to wear the hijab? I am a good Muslim, I pray and fast and I don’t wear revealing clothes, so why do I have to prove my faith by wearing the hijab? In fact, there are hijabis out there that aren’t any better than those who don’t wear it. So why wear it? I don’t need a fabric to remind myself of my duty.

For these individuals, they are misunderstanding the profound significance of hijab. Its purpose is never to prove anything to anyone else; its sole function is not to serve as a symbol of piety and it does not end with preventing men from objectifying you. If your Creator Who has given you everything, including this very intellect and rationality you reason with, asks you of something for your own good, why would you reject it? If you didn’t need the hijab, why would He ask you to cover yourself with it? There is a greater purpose to wearing the hijab and sometimes that is as simple as loving your Lord.

But, maybe these questions don’t have such a simple answer and people want the easy way out.

When doubt and rebellion finally weave in at a more mature age, it only makes sense to take off the hijab. We all change and grow out of our childhood habits. Maybe hijab is one of them. Taking it off may kind of be like that coming-of-age phenomenon. It’s a big step, but hey, you’re not little anymore and the autonomy is yours. In the end, it is about free will and you are accountable for your own actions.

Theory B: A hope for a better future

Some females are excited when they first get adjusted to wearing the hijab. They feel a rush of iman and they feel good about themselves. They never once doubted their decision, whether they started wearing hijab at a young age or not. But, gradually life appears to be somewhat dull with the hijab. Suddenly, things are not that easy anymore.

Here’s a snapshot: I can’t get that job as a make-up artist at Mac like I’ve always wanted, even though I’d be so good at it. That interview I’ve been waiting for—the hijab won’t make things any easier. No guy wants to marry me. The last proposal that came in, the guy specifically toldme he prefers a wife who doesn’t wear the hijab. I don’t need this in my life.

Some hijabis go through this phase where they come to realize that the hijab isn’t doing anything for them. Instead, it seems to be in the way of everything they ever wanted. So then comes the whisper of Shaytan: take it off, it will be so much easier.

And in fact, it does. All those previous difficulties evaporate into thin air and life is blissful. But honestly, are you happy? Isn’t a struggle worth having if it will make you a better person? Isn’t a difficulty worth suffering if it will give you so much reward? And isn’t everything—your success, your wealth, and even the person you come to marry—in the hands of your Creator so that all you have to do to overcome each obstacle is to trust Him?

Well, that’s easier said than done obviously. Let’s not ignore the million of temptations running around us. The desire to fit into a society that measures success based on appearance. The natural inclination to love and be loved. And besides, just because you are taking off the hijab does not mean you’re going to stop all the other good deeds and it certainly does not mean you are a bad Muslim. It is just one thing out of many so why make it a big deal?

Actually, it is a big deal and that’s why I am discussing it here. You see, in the most general sense, the girls who are already wearing the hijab have an advantage over the girls who are struggling to start wearing the hijab. Those who are already wearing it are habituated to the life of wearing hijab even if they may not yet grasp its significance. They have already made that first step of putting it on, which is one of the most difficult and courageous acts. (And if you started it while you were young, then it was still courageous to keep it on when you got older). Ask the girls who are trying to wear it—it’s not easy. You have to give answers to everybody, get used to how you perceive yourself and how others perceive this change. But as a hijabi, you have already gone through all of that.

If you do decide to take off the hijab, realize that it will be much more difficult to put it back on. Like they say, sometimes actions speak louder than words. It says a lot when you decide to remove the hijab, and the consequences unravel endlessly. It doesn’t take long before you are tempted into getting the newest hairstyle, attracting somebody and starting a relationship, or simply hindering your growth as a Muslim.

Being an ex-hijabi may give you certain liberties, but in the end, think very carefully. Evaluate yourself and what it is that is bothering you in living a life with hijab. Maybe you’re not alone in how you feel; maybe there is something that requires clarification, and perhaps the best solution is far from the denial of the very thing that can bring you contentment.

The first thing I noticed about Evita was her shining face, with a pretty purple hijab firmly in place. As she pored over her book, trying to understand the glorious words of the Qur’an during our Tafseer class, I made a mental note to catch up with her after class. Evita had a very interesting story to tell, and in this email interview with me, she talks about her inspirational journey to taking the shahadah.

Tell me a little bit about yourself, where you hail from, your parents and family.  

Did the family eventually come around?

Unfortunately, I lost my father during the process, but about one month before he passed away, he did accept it (My Mum told me!), but it took slightly longer to convince my Mum.  Eventually, once I got married (about five years after I converted) my entire family accepted me as a Muslim wholeheartedly, and over time, when they got to know my husband and saw that I was happy, then they were all happy for me, alhamdullillah.  They are very receptive to da’wah, and constantly question my way of living and praying.  I’m always giving them as much insight as I can to this beautiful path to Allah.

If you had to choose just one thing that finally convinced you to embrace Islam, what would it be?  

The Aqeedah – The oneness of Allah.  The fact, that you can worship Allah the way it is supposed to be, without any intermediaries. It just feels so right.

Did you ever feel Islam was the natural thing to believe in, since it agreed with every natural feeling?

Yes, I believe that it is totally instinctual to follow and practice Islam the way our beloved Prophet (salAllahu ‘alayhi wa sallam) has showed us how to.  It is so simple, and beautiful. I love the fact that you have a direct connection with Allah, and you don’t have to go through some person, idol or ritual.  Also I was attracted to the lifestyle of Muslims – that you didn’t have to give up having a family or work to follow Allah.Most religions require a great sacrifice in your lifestyle in order to be worthy in the eyes of God.  Islam, allows you to get married, have kids and live out your life within the boundaries of Shariah.  When you implement this in your life, everything just ‘feels’ right.

How was it after you took the step of Iman? Tell me about the challenges you went through. And more importantly, how did you feel? Liberated? Curtailed? Frustrated?  

The very day I converted to Islam, I felt on top of the world.  I felt such a light feeling in my heart, and it was like I was flying.  I’ve never felt so happy in my life.  The most difficult hurdles that I had to face, was with my family.  They just didn’t understand where I was coming from.  All they could think about was, “what will people think, what will they say?” But alhamdullillah, it was those very hurdles,  that made my faith stronger and confirmed by belief even more.

And finally the HIJAB!  

I was always on and off with the hijab, and I finally took the big step and put it on about 4 years ago.  It was a great feeling, to be identified as part of the Muslim family, ‘officially’, and to start looking like one.

What did you think of hijab?  

The hijab is a true statement of ‘modesty’.  When you wear the hijab, it is the ultimate tool to freedom.  You’re no longer a slave to your mind and desires, and what people think.  You are no longer judged by your looks, but judged through your mind, and people see the ‘real’ you.

Did it ever make sense to you?

I took slow steps towards modesty gradually as my understanding of Islam increased.  Hijab is not just covering your head, but a whole way of protecting and honouring women.  The hijab doesn’t degrade woman, but elevates them with so much respect.

What made you take it up?

I put it on because I wanted to look like a Muslim, and be identified as one.  I was sick of looking like everyone else, and following the fashion, and most of all, being a slave to my desires.  It wasn’t until I put it on, that I realised, how much more people respect you.

And now that you have ‘got it covered’, how do you feel?  

I feel great. My husband respects me even more, and so does society.  I feel that the hijab protects me, and allows me to be myself.  I’m no longer treated as an object, but a strong woman who practices what she believes.

Jazak Allahu Khayr for your answers and here’s wishing you all the best from everyone at I Got It Covered!

The trees whispered the secrets of Summer’s passing breeze as she peered out the car window watching leaves dance wistfully with the beautiful, bright, blue backdrop. The tassels of her hijab caught the rhythm of the wind and stirred in the breeze. Her eyes watered as she stared out of the open window, and so she looked away to the passenger’s seat to her left. Her younger sister by two years sat looking out the open window near her, also watching the delight of nature in the city. THe only difference was that the wind danced tastefully through locks of wavy hair. The girl in hijab sighed as she remembered the days when the wind flew through her hair, but followed the sigh with ‘Alhamdulillah,’ since having hijab was one of the best decisions she was blessed enough to make.

She could see her sister become more and more beautiful every passing day, although the innocent fourteen year old didn’t think so. On seeing the image of her sister uncovered and unaware of her beauty, which should be covered, a gush of tears poured through her and she could only manage to whisper, “Ya Allah, please – please help her – please guide her. Ya Allah. Ya Allah. Ya Allah.”

With this, she returned her gaze to the window – heart still pouring in tears – eyes dry, and thus now she writes a letter to her younger sister:

Dearest Bub,

You have no idea how much I care for you – no idea. I sincerely want the best for you and I honestly want you to be smiling and shining for the sake of Allah. I know I may annoy you an awful lot and you must get sick of me to be frank. For this I am truly sorry, because I don’t mean to. I don’t only care for you as a person and for your happiness and success – more than this, I care about your soul and that’s what I long to see shine even more.

You honestly do not see how beautiful you are, do you? I see how your delicate cheeks scrunch up whenever I say you look pretty. Honey, you are absolutely beautiful and so incredibly valuable.

My precious sister, you dress to please the creation and act so beautifully to please the Creator. You are ten times the person I am because of your pure, good hearted. Dear, despite what you’re going through, I know you can overcome these hurdles – I know you can shine…

Value yourself, your intellect, your character, your humour and your body. It wasn’t meant for the whole world to see – they do not have this right. My beautiful sister, don’t sigh when he doesn’t pay attention to your new hairstyle – he’s not worth it. Why try to please him, you’re destined for someone and only one. For now, lose yourself in love, True Love: loving your Lord. Lose yourself in His boundless love, compassion and mercy. He will forgive you, my sister.

Turn to Him. Trust Him. Love Him and His Commands.

Dearest and most innocent sister, I love you. I believe in you. I care for you. I pray for you.

You want to feel safe? Then cover your beautiful self.

Hold my hand; come to hijab. Allah is always there for you.

Always in my prayers,

Your Sister.

P.S. Please smile. Yes, right now; smile. (:

In her recent novel Boy vs. Girl, Na’ima B. Roberts illustrates an important, yet overlooked phenomenon for girls and women who wear hijab:

        “But lately, she had lost some of that confidence, that immunity to guys’ indifference to her. It had started to bother her that their eyes glazed over when they saw her, sliding away from her face, brightening when they saw Robina’s cheeky smile and highlighted hair.
Her pride was hurt, her vanity bristled…
Once upon a time, she had been the darling of every clique that mattered. Now, in her hijab, she was considered a pariah…”

This excerpt details the struggle of Farhana, one of the main characters in the book, as she dons the hijab. She is a teenager in high school and the confidence with which she began to wear hijab slowly diminishes as she discovers some of the consequences.

Now, many females more or less know the reasoning behind wearing hijab—namely, to be modest and obey God’s orders. In essence, this also means deterring attention away from oneself by appearing and acting in a humble manner. For many of us, attention is something we prize so it is only natural to feel that way. We feel loved and secure when somebody gives us attention, whether it is as simple as a glance from a classmate or as complex as a relationship with a family member. Thus it is only natural that we feel hurt when some of that attention is lost.

Personally, I didn’t mind when people glanced past me because of my hijab. I’ve been shy for the majority of my life and I tended to be the student who hid behind another’s head so the teacher wouldn’t call me. But it isn’t so simple for other, more extroverted individuals. It may cause pain when those who had more or less adored you, such as your friendly male cousin or the guy sitting at your math table, doesn’t give you the same amount of attention anymore. It hurts when you cannot be part of that popular clique anymore and moreover when your crush hardly gives a glance in your direction. Even shy girls may crave this kind of attention once in a while—to have the temporal comfort of a good-looking guy flash a smile at you.

But, in the end, what good is that small bit of pleasure we gain? Can anything more happen beyond that smile, that glance, or that attention we crave? Or perhaps the better question is, shouldn’t we want something beyond that and why? Most of us are fortunate to have the loving care and attention from our parents and family. Others may not be so fortunate but an undying trust in Allah can help them move forward. And all that attention and affection can insha’Allah be attained one day by a loving spouse. Why bother your soul, your faith, your relationship with Allah for a mere desire to have attention that can only last only for a short time?

So, my dear sisters, don’t sulk with the feeling that you’re not getting as much attention now that you have a hijab on. Surround yourself with those who will give you affection—your family, your friends, the elderly, and even children in your community. And for those sisters who have not begun wearing the hijab yet, do not let the ideas that you won’t be as beautiful any more, or that nobody will like you or marry you prevent you from embarking on this journey.

Allah indeed is the provider of all good things. We have a duty to our Lord and no words are more powerful than His to consider:

“…And who is more astray than the one who follows his own desires separate from the guidance of Allah…” [Al-Qasas, 28:50]

When you find yourself brooding and lonely, ask yourself which you prefer to be—a slave to your fleeting desires or a slave to your Lord?

We all want to be remembered. We all want to make an impact on the people around us. It feels nice to get a compliment, and I would be lying if I insisted that I am any different. I enjoy being complimented as much as the next girl.

It is only human to crave attention and we are all only human after all. Yet, one thing we should really think about is, ‘how exactly do I want to be remembered?’ What kind of attention is it that I want? What facet of my ‘self’ do I want to be identified by? Ask anyone that question and they will probably give an answer which is a variation of: ‘I want to be remembered by my personality’, or ‘my work’ or other such epithets.

I’m not denying of course that we do want to be remembered for our great personalities or the work that we do. What I’m saying is that in three out of four cases, we often tend to settle for being remembered or complimented for something a lot more prosaic: our appearance. We may want to be known for our personalities, but inside all of us is that little voice that keeps telling us that physical appearance is way more important.

We live in a media-saturated culture that seems to reinforce this idea that to be ‘noticed’ or to ‘matter’ we must look first and foremost to our appearance. So much so that to not put an effort into your appearance is considered abnormal. I’m not saying of course that putting effort into your appearance or being well-groomed is a bad thing. Yet a problem with this is the idea that putting effort into your appearance is not enough; it has to be efforts towards conforming to a specific sort of appearance, to a specific ideal  and standard of beauty that is hardly realistic, let alone appropriate. We are bombarded with messages such as:

‘Who cares what you consider beauty. Looking like Katrina Kaif or Beyonce is what you should aspire for!’

‘What do you mean you’re not comfortable with sleeveless? Don’t be so mummy-daddy.’

‘You’re not comfortable wearing skinny jeans? Don’t worry so much, there’s nothing wrong in it, it’s just harmless fun! After all, you’re only young once.’

The main idea of course is that personality and character are all well and good, but physical beauty is what gets you noticed. The point isn’t that if you are pretty or attractive there is something inherently wrong with that, yet is it absolutely necessary to flaunt this gift to the world at large?

When I personally started covering my head, one of the first things people said to me was, ‘But you have such lovely hair! Why would you want to hide it?’ –more often than not saying it in a tone as if consoling someone who’s had a tragic accident. They could not seem to understand why I would choose to do such an ‘abnormal’ thing. Be ‘normal’ they said, ‘why do you want to stand out?’ I cannot blame them though, as the modern society that we live in is incapable of understanding why a ‘normal’, educated girl, would choose to do something so ‘abnormal’. They try to deter you from the path they see you on out of a misguided attempt to ‘save’ you or help
you in some way.

But my answer to all these comments and ‘concerned advice’ is: at the end of the day, when all is said and done and you are in your grave, do you really want that the only thing you have to show for your life is how stylishly you did your hair? Is that all that matters? Is there nothing else that is more important? I for one do not wish for that to be my defining feature.

Life is full of decisions and choices: to achieve one thing, you have by necessity to give up another. So you have to ask yourself this: when it gets right down to it and you have to make a choice, would you choose to concentrate only on looking good or would you rather prefer to strive to be good?