Loving and Leaving Hijab

By Maria Mills

I quit reading anything at all related to the topic of hijab quite some time ago. Let’s face it, Muslims are never going to agree on the issue. There are hundreds of touching and personal accounts on why women choose to don the headscarf. These “hijab stories” can be especially helpful to Muslim women considering adopting the hijab into their lives. There has also been a great deal written by scholars and others on why the hijab may not be a necessity in the life of a Muslim woman. This debate will continue long after I’m gone filling volumes with the various interpretations of the issue. With that said, I’m here to present you with another hijab story.

I began wearing hijab on a full-time basis back in the spring of 1996. I’d been Muslim for about six months and was feeling a strong pull to incorporate this aspect of Islam into my daily life. I wasn’t pressured directly by the female members of my community, but there was a good deal of indirect pressure in the form of lectures, emails and small talk about the merits of hijab. Not to mention the gentle, yet snide comments that I think existed for no other reason than to remind me that Muslims are indeed human.

These comments were directed towards those women who chose not to wear hijab and always reminded me of my best friend’s old southern aunt who followed every put-down with an ever-so sweet, “bless her heart.”

Pressure, or lack of pressure, aside I agreed with all their arguments. Once I began wearing Hijab it felt good. And what the heck, I had always been one to go against the grain so walking around in this western world with a scarf on my head was right up my ally.

So after months of hijab-experimentation to the grocery store, restaurants, and out with friends I finally wrote a letter to my boss telling her of my intention to wear the hijab to work. About a week after this letter, a memo was put out to all my colleagues informing them of what was about to happen and letting them know that the company was 100% behind me.

The day I finally got up the nerve to come into work donning my headscarf I was scared out of my mind. I received many curious questions, sincere inquiries and lots of “way to go’s.” I never dreamed that my employer, nor any of my colleagues, would look down on my decision, at least not publicly, but I sure didn’t expect this type of support.

I spent nearly three years in “full hijab.” In all aspects of my daily life, with the exception of work, I wore a black abaya, full face veil and gloves. At work I wore long scarves and jilbab. I was a walking symbol of my faith in my workplace, and it went over quite well.

I’ve had nothing but extremely positive experiences with my co-workers. In fact, I’ve had only positive experiences wearing hijab in all aspects of my life. I’ve never experienced any of those horrible things you hear of women in hijab enduring. After 9/11 I had a string of colleagues, including the company president, in and out of my office offering to do everything from get me groceries and take me to and from work, to getting in the face of anyone who said or did anything negative to me. Additionally, since I began wearing hijab I’ve been promoted five times. You don’t often hear of women who have had so many positive experiences wearing hijab. You do, however, hear of the discrimination, attacks and struggles that Muslim women face every day all over the world, all because of this powerful piece of cloth.

With all the positive experiences that I’ve had you may be a bit surprised when you hear what I’m about to say…I’m taking it off.

I’m not sure that there was any specific incident to spark the idea, it just happened. Gradually, it has progressed from a stirring notion to a plan of action closely mirroring the process of putting it on. I first stopped wearing the hijab in my building when outside my apartment. Then I progressed to venturing out into the world sans hijab, always careful to avoid those places where I might run into someone I knew. Eventually, it became easy for me to go anywhere, without fear of running into someone who may have a comment on my lack of Islamic attire.

So far, I’ve made it without hijab in all aspects of my life except for my time at the office. I simply don’t want to face the questions from everyone. But I’m sure that day will come, and I’ll load myself with all the right answers. I will tell them that although I believe deeply in the hijab as a part of Islam for many, I’m not going to wear it anymore. I will explain to them how Allah has granted me free will to choose my path of submission to Him. I will remind them that I was Muslim before wearing the hijab, I was Muslim while wearing the hijab and I will continue to be just as Muslim after taking it off. After a few days pass and everyone gets over the shock of seeing my hair for the first time in years, life will go on.

So what about all the merits of modestly covering my hair and skin, have I forgotten about the benefits hijab? Nope. I still believe strongly in them. I believe that every woman has the right to wear the hijab without fear of discrimination and to be a walking example of this beautiful faith. And I believe she should do so with no repercussions to her personal or professional life. I still get a warm feeling when I see a woman in hijab. To this day I find it strikingly beautiful.

I also believe in a Muslim woman’s right not to wear hijab and to do so without facing an onslaught of criticism from those who should be supporting her most. Perhaps I think I have some duty to let my world know that a scarf does not define piety. Perhaps I’m tired of my level of faith being directly tied to the length of my skirt. Perhaps I believe that modesty takes many different forms. Perhaps I no longer feel the need to let the world know that I’m Muslim each time I walk out my door. I know and Allah knows, and that works for me. Perhaps, just perhaps, I believe that Allah will accept me as His servant with or without a scarf on my head.

Maria Mills is a mother, wife, student and frazzled member of middle management. Occasionally she finds time to escape and write.