I love my Hijab.

I know it makes me feel very sweaty in the summer. I know I just sometimes wish I could just put on a tee and jeans and run out the door. I know that it makes me look unattractive. I know that I hated it before. I know it makes me look older than what I really am. I know that it stops me from playing sports in comfortable wear. I know it prevents me from taking dips in the pool. I know that a hijabi wardrobe costs more than a regular wardrobe. I know that I can never really be my real self with hijab on. I know that hijab makes me look fat. I know that I'll never feel the air blowing through my hair ever again. I know that I can never wear my dream wedding dress. I know that I know that I lost a lot of "friends" when I put it on. I know that people judge me because I wear hijab. I know that I always wanted to be a hot mommy with a funky hair cut one day.

I also know that a lot of girls envy me for wearing hijab.

After nine years of wearing it. Today I finally admit it. I love my hijab.

A Woman's World

Walking with my sister a few days ago. We were having this conversation:

Me: If there were no men in this world, we wouldn't have to wear hijab.

Her: I agree.

(Pause)

Her: How are we going to reproduce?

Me: Asexually.....like amoeba.

Her: Hahahahaha... you mean like you would suddenly start dividing into two while I'm sitting here talking to you?

Me: Yes, and I would say, excuse me... its my reproduction season.


It happened that on the same day we went to a women's only beach. A very popular one at that. The beach had girl stuff all over. Healthy, diet food options. A henna tattoo booth. A hair dresser. A cafe. And lots and lots of pink. It was a women's world.

We were one of the first to arrive. We enjoyed watching the men being shooed out of the water and out the gate. We enjoyed the girly tunes that were playing. We enjoyed the comfort of not being watched by the prying eyes of men.

Little by little, the beach began to crowd. More women and girls were arriving. All ages. All sizes. All ethnicities. All colors. All styles. There were women everywhere. Girls everywhere. Naturally when you find women, you find kids. Children were playing around us. Their laughter muddled by the sound of the waves. There were no arguments or quarrels. Everyone was comfortable with their own skin. No one was worried about men judging them or checking them out. The hijabis were able to freely wear whatever they felt like wearing. The non hijabis were comfortable feeling that there were no men around to cat call or molest them. Younger women lay around the beach tanning. Teenagers were hanging out in groups all over the place. Pregnant women looked fabulous in bikinis. The mothers had the freedom to nurse whenever their babies were hungry.

I was thinking. Life can't get any better than that. Who needs men?

Soon enough. Female conversations started reaching my ears. Talk about diet, cooking, working out, style, cosmetics, fashion, men, pregnancy and marriage was everywhere. Women loved chatting. The beach got noisier by the second.

Then there was the belly dancing competition. Every female who wanted to compete competed. Females watched. Gossiped. Laughed. Cheered. Grooved. Even made fun of men. Or pretended to be men. I was beginning to feel uneasy.

There was too much estrogen around.

Then when we had to leave, carry our heavy bags and umbrellas, I wished for some men to be around.

Hijabi Bridesmaids.

We have never seen hijabi brides maids before that dressed alike... and my sister insisted that we dress alike. I tried to convince her that six hijabis dressed exactly alike walking together would look very freaky. People are already intimidated by hijabis, and too many of them looking alike would surely freak some people out. We decided that we would buy the same color fabric, and each bridesmaid would design her own dress... using the same fabric and same color. That way, we'd be alike.. but still be different :D

The result was fabulous. Not the creepy hijabis we were afraid of being. I think we are the first hijabi bridesmaids ever.

Hijabi Party was a Blast

Everyone had so much fun. The food was great. The music was appealing to all tastes. The setting was fabulous. The cake shaped like lipstick got a bit smudged but tasted awesome.

It's amazing what a little music, good food and fun company does to the spirit. For some time your body floods with adrenaline. You dance like there is no tomorrow. You stuff your face then dance some more. Gossip, laugh, joke. Sometimes someone trips. Sometimes the helium balloons stick to the chandeliers and cause a horrible stench. Sometimes little kids start crying because they want to dress up too. Laughs, bee-lights, makeup, feathers, stilettos, frills, perfume, belly dancing, girls, girls, women, girls, girls, women, the bride. Tears of happiness and tears of sadness. But more fun and more dessert being served. Drinks run out but someone rushes out to bring some more. Everyone is sweaty. Everyone is dancing. Everyone is happy.

Little by little though. The crowd shrinks. Until its only just sisters and best friends left. Then the real fun starts.

Will miss you sis.

The Hijabi Jogger

I always want to try out the "Hijab does not stop me doing what I want theory" in different situations. So because we live in a nice, safe neighborhood I decided that it would be a total waste if I did not put it to good use and start jogging every once in a short while.

First off, since I'll be jogging in public. My sporty outfit has to be modest. So I usually go for one of my brother's baggy tees that I layer over a long sleeve tee. For bottoms I wear my older sister's sweats. They are nice and baggy. For the hijab, I pick a light colored cotton scarf and I secure with lots of pins. Since I'll be doing a lot of action, I need to make sure that my hijab stays in place.

After my first jogging trip as a hijabi, my scarf went all lose, my hair was sticking out around my face, most of the pins got lost and I was sweating like a pig from around my neck area. As soon as I walked through the door I took off my sweaty hijab and threw it in the wash.

The next time I tried to avoid what had happened last time. I tied a bandana around my head before I put on my hijab. Again I chose a cotton scarf and used double the amounts of pins to secure it.

Half way through the jog, my scarf was again flapping all over the place. I had to stop every few minutes to readjust it. My bandana was caked with sweat and I was feeling very uncomfortable. I started to envy the girls who got to do this in tanks and shorts.

I decided that I need those hoodie type hijabis to wear when I'm jogging. I'm still trying to find them and hopefully my problem will be solved pretty soon.

The good thing about jogging with the hijab however, is that it keeps your earphones in place:)

Struggling Veiled Girl

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.