Hard

Assalamu Alaikum warahmatullahi wabarakatuhu.

It's hard some times... Some days harder than others. 

Balancing and blending the past with the present and preparing for the future. Learning and relearning. Studying, practicing, memorizing all of the aspects of my new life as a Muslimah while retaining some kind of "normal" for friends, family, co-workers and the general public who can't, don't or refuse to understand. And wishing that there was an easy, or at least an easier, way to tell them the answers to their questions without coming across as harsh, pushy, pious or extreme. Because even though my views, opinions and feelings of certain things have and continue to change, I'm none of those things. 

It's hard to explain to friends why I can't go to lunch, shopping or to their houses when I had no problems with doing so a couple of years ago. I know that I can, in reality, do the majority of the things that I used to but in doing so, I have to be willing to open myself up to criticisms, questions and judgements from those that I come into contact with. Sometimes that is the hardest part. Sometimes I get tired of the sideways glances and the "whispers" from strangers and unfortunately, from some of those who I thought were the closest to me. 

"This is America..", "Does she even belong in here??".. Even though generally  I try to make light of the comments and remember that I am doing my best to live by what Allaah has written and by what my Prophet, peace and blessings upon him, has taught, some times it is hard to put the hurtful words aside, forgive and move on.

      

       "Allah is with those who restrain themselves." [16: 128]

       "And the servants of Allah . . . are those who walked on the earth in humility, and when the ignorant address them, they say 'Peace'" [25:63]

Luckily, those who have stuck by me and supported me this far are some of the best I have and I couldn't ask for better. My husband is a great comfort and always lets me grip his hand a little tighter when too many eyes are staring and I'm grateful for that (thanks babe). 

The Quran is my guide and these are some good words to live by: 

  "Show forgiveness, speak for justice and avoid the ignorant." (Quran, 7:199), even though it's hard some times. 

Beauty is only skin deep

Assalamu Alaikum warahmatullahi wabarakatuhu.

It seemed like it took forever for me to leave my comfort zone of work, go out around the town in a hijab and not stress so much about what those around me thought. In actuality though, it was only about a month. Wearing only a hijab seems like no big thing now but the niqab has brought its own set of insecurities.

It's been about a year since I decided to start wearing my black abaya with matching gloves and niqab and every day has been a progression to wearing it more full time. It's gotten harder to be able to or even to want to go out and do certain things with my family, like going out to dinner or even to the mall. The stares and the comments come more when I'm fully covered than they ever did in just a hijab. 

As time goes on and the more confident I become in my choice to obey Allaah's command and cover my face and hands along with my hair, it gets easier to ignore the "Does she even belong in here???" at the grocery stores and the "I thought Halloween was over months ago.." I rarely leave my house without my husband as an escort unless I'm going to work. 

There are always those who have genuine questions and those other sisters who feel that being unveiled or even without a hijab in front of non-mahram men is okay and I always tell them that a woman's beauty is for Allaah alone. My husband loves me and thinks that I'm even more beautiful when I'm completely covered and veiled than when I'm not, which is pretty much never unless he sees me at work. 

Day to day things get easier but there are always those who disagree with how I look or dress and as long as I live where I do, I'm sure that won't change. I hope that some of those women who think I, along with my fellow niqabi sisters are oppressed, can look at me and see that wearing next to nothing doesn't make them beautiful, but attracts the attention often that so many of them don't want. I hope they can see that beauty really is what is inside a person and not what is seen on the outside. 

Worries of Work

Although it was in May that I said my shahada, it was still some time before I felt comfortable enough to wear a hijab to work. I'm an assistant manager of a convenience store with a company that I had been employed by in my home town. I see a lot of different people, with different opinions and most of them aren't shy about letting anyone know where they stand. I had the approval of my corporate office that I was able to wear it, but it has to match my uniform. No problem there.

My regular customers also include a good majority of the city and university police departments and many of the officers are in or have been in one branch or another of the US military. Most of those have been deployed to middle eastern countries or Afghanistan and I considered myself friends with them. Because I know what my husband, a veteran of the US Army who was deployed to Iraq for a year, felt about Muslims and Islaam before he chose to revert, I was worried about how many of my officer friends felt the same way and the potential backlash of the rest of my customer base. I didn't want to lose the friends that I had made here or cost my company money, so it took a few months and some lengthy discussions with my two closest Sisters, my husband, my boss and a few of the officers that I was closer with to come to the conclusion that wearing a hijab would be ok.

The first day I went to work with my head covered, I think I answered the same questions the whole nine hours that I was there; "Are you muslim???" and "When did THAT happen???" and "But you're an AMERICAN!". I would receive dirty looks from some who hadn't been that familiar with me before but surprisingly there were more "That's GREAT!!" and "You go girl!" than I had initially expected. It was a huge sigh of relief to know that the majority of my community was on my side. I was asked where I am from a lot (that's still the most popular question over a year later) and some would try to guess which far off country I actually came from. They're always surprised to hear that I'm not only an American, I was born and raised by American parents in Oklahoma. The next logical step for most to assume is that I married a Muslim man, so therefore that must be the reason for my acceptance of Islaam.

Even though it has been over a year since I started covering my head at work and most people have figured out that I'm not really that much different than I was before, there are still those who choose to vent their negativity and hate and voice their backhanded comments. Not directly to me of course, but within ear shot and they are always accompanied by sideways glances. I've been told that "As long as someone believes in God, they should be allowed to live." (I'm still not sure if that was a comment or a hateful remark); "You're not a Muslim, you're too white."; "I didn't know they made white Muslims." and "Well, at least you don't have to wear the FULL thing." That last one was made by a woman, to which I replied "Yes...at least." knowing that she had no clue as to how strict my clothing options had been and were becoming outside of my job.

The Moment of Truth

Assalamu Alaikum warahmatullahi wabarakatuhu.

Sorry it's taken me a few days to get back here. I've had a lot of things going on but thanks for your patience. Anyway, I'm in the car for the next couple of hours going "home" to see my mom for a few minutes and pick up a few things from her so I figured this is a good time to write.

I moved with my family to Norman in 2009 but it was still almost four years before I came to know Islaam. I knew of it, but I had no idea that I would be accepting it as part of me and my life. Getting through school was high on the priority list, and it is still something I hope to be able to accomplish but it isn't at the top anymore.

Through my husband a few years prior, I had been introduced to someone who became one of my best friends. Amber and I had many things in common and even though we had different backgrounds and upbringings, we never went more than a couple of days without talking. When she moved overseas to take a new job, she introduced me to Fadilah and from there our lives were changed forever.

I spent many nights chatting with Fadilah and we became fast friends. She was an American and a revert to Islaam from years before and she spent most of her life after her reversion studying, learning and loving Allaah to the best of her ability. She was inspirational and taught me a lot about the religion that I had really only ever heard of on tv. She was so easy to talk to and understanding of both sides of my interests and concerns. In April or so, I, along with my husband, had decided to accept Islaam and Allaah, but I hadn't done so publicly yet. Amber was disbelieving that so quickly we had chosen to accept Islaam on our own but after a lengthy conversation with me, her best friend, and Fadilah she too accepted Islaam into her heart and took her shahada the next day and eventually flew to Saudi Arabia to continue her studies.

In early May, Fadilah came to Oklahoma from London to meet me and go to Jummah. I wanted to meet her and it would have been my first time to ever be in a masjid. I wanted to meet her so badly but I was so nervous. Really though, I was TERRIFIED! Mostly I think because even though I had decided to become Muslim in my heart, I was afraid of what everyone inside the masjid would think about me. I sat in the parking lot of the masjid, crying and too scared to go inside. I missed my chance to meet my friend and she went back to London the next day. Even though she forgave me for standing her up, she unexpectedly suffered a brain hemorrhage a few days later and went into a coma that she never recovered from. It was because of her that I came to Islaam, or rather, Islaam came to me, and the night that she passed, I mustered up the courage, walked into the office of the imam of our masjid, cried and told him my problem. During the time I was in his office, the athan rang out through the halls of the building and I knew then that was where I wanted and needed to be. Two days later, I went in front of my sisters and said my shahada, accepting Islaam and Allaah into my life.

I miss Fadilah every day and I know that those other lives that she touched and changed miss her the same as I do.