By Sherine Khaled
I grew up in America, the daughter of a Muslim Egyptian man and a non-Muslim American mother. I attended Islamic school from my first years until fifth grade when I transferred to public school. Although I attended Islamic school, it wasn’t enforced strongly enough at home and I was never given any proper care in school in order to really connect with the religion which pains me to say now, but it is true. I was also shielded from the world outside as I grew up surrounded by Muslims and their children.
When I first entered public school, the day before, my mother sat my sister and I down and told us to hide our religious views from the other children. My only thought was “why?” This was the first time I had ever learned of 9/11 from a non-Muslim’s perspective and who it was associated with. Of course, I learned about the twin towers in the second grade. I was told bad men did it, but it was never associated with Muslims. Nine years later mother had feared for our safety and did not want us to be isolated from the other children.
I was stubborn. How could I pretend to be someone, something, I am not? I am a Muslim Egyptian girl. I am proud not who I am. My ten-year-old self, although not truly connected to Islam, was proud to be a Muslim.
As the years passed, I began growing closer to Islam slowly yet surely. In 2018 I began praying all five daily prayers after I was awoken by thunder (I have always been afraid of storms but love them now) and the Fajr athaan (call to prayer) played from my phone straight after. I never prayed Fajr on time growing up unless it was during Ramadan.
I began to love dressing up for Jummah. I would go to Jummah every week even if there were school I would find a way to take the 20 minutes drive whether by Uber or on my own as soon as I had my license. And every Friday following prayer I kept my hijab on. I loved the way it made me feel and how I represented who I was on the inside, on the outside.
I decided to try to transition. Following many beautiful hijabis on social media gave me some much needed confidence to take the next steps. I bought some clothes, more hijabs, even a burkini because that was the hardest part for me surprisingly. I mentioned it to my family and friends once or twice to see their opinion. They told me “don’t do it,” “wait a little,” “why not after you’re married?” I was shocked, outraged, and very headstrong. Why should I wait? Why should I wait for someONE? Who is this really for? More than for me it is for Allah (SWA) that I wear my hijab. When I wear it I feel less inclined to sin, I remember Allah (SWA) more often, I feel at peace. The answer was clear.
I set a date. I could not at first decide which date to settle on. It was July 2020 now, August seemed too close I was afraid. The answer became clear after some thought. The original reason for my stubbornness and love for Islam. My mother’s feared date: September 11.
September 9, 2020, 2 am: I lie in bed, close to sleep. I had just finished reading my nightly Quran. I floss my eyes ready to sleep. The earth begins to shake, barely noticeable at first and then it grew. I was so frightened, it was the first earthquake I experienced. The next morning I get the urge to wear my hijab to university, the late night events in the back of my mind. The next day the same thing, and the next— September 11– I tell my mother. She seems shocked but happy at the same time. I have never met someone more compassionate towards Islam than my mother. She says it is because of me. Because of my stubbornness, my consistency, my prayer rug sitting neatly folded on the chair in her house, and the hijab on my head. She is proud of me. And I am proud of me.
I became a hijabi on September 9, 2020.
I do not regret my choice, I have never loved myself more than when I wear hijab.
To end this, the one word on my mind is: Alhamdulillah!
About Author
Sherine Khaled is an 18 year old Egyptian American. She is a fashion enthusiast and loves to collab. Her love for fashion began after she put on hijab, stemming from her fear of not knowing what to wear at first.