It surprises me that I've been wearing the hijab for almost nine years now. It has become part of my life already. My clothes are in order. I have a hijabi outfit for every occasion. I have a scarf that goes with every outfit. I have the shoes and accessories needed to look like a hijabi with style.
The problem however, visits me every year. When summer gets here. You might say that it's wearing hijab in the blistering heat that bothers me. You might think that what bothers me is trying to jog wearing hijab clothes when its 40 degrees in the shade. You might think its the new sexy tops that are out in stores that are sold for a fourth of the price of a normal hijabi top. You might think its the funky, summery hair dos that look brilliant in every way. You might think its the thin line of sweat that trickles down my back that I can't wipe away.
Its none of that. Its not even close. What bothers me most, is the beach.
You see, I have an obsession with the sea, and sand, and sea shells, and the sun, and sandcastles, and bikinis, and tanning oil, and swimming, and waves, and coconut oil, and salt water, and the white foam that forms around you as you splash through the waves.
I haven't experienced the full pleasures of going to the beach in a very long time. The closest I've been, was to just hang around the amazing north cost shore, fully covered, watching other people enjoy one of the amazing gifts Allah has given to mankind. Not realizing how lucky they are to be able to swim freely, in comfortable wear, feeling the sand on their toes, the salt water on their bodies, the wind in their hair, and the warmth of the sun on their skin. My only pleasure of going to the beach, besides marveling at the beauty of the sea, was walking beside the water, careful not to lift my skirt up too high so it shows my ankles, careful not to get the edge of my skirt wet, careful not to let the wind blow my headscarf away.
Going to the beach was a hassle. It was torture for my soul. It was like being hungry, watching delicious, mouth watering, food being served in front of your eyes and not being able to eat. The last time I went to the beach I felt like crying. I looked at other people dive in and out, having the sun color their skin. I envied them all.
I decided that unless I go to a women's only beach (someday) I'll never go to the beach again. Unless I'm strong enough to have faith in Allah. Strong enough to be patient. Strong enough to understand that the pleasures of the world are nothing in comparison the the pleasures of Jannah. That Allah gives me great thawab for resisting the temptations of Dunia. That when I see the seas of Paradise I will no longer wish for those of Dunia.
Sometimes I wonder, how on Earth have I been able to keep this up for nine years?
Fadl from Allah.
Alhamdolelah.
