Growing up, you read me the Ugly
Duckling. And for years I believed that was me. For so long you taught
me I was nothing more than a bad copy of the standard (men).
I couldn’t run as fast or lift as
much. I didn’t make the same money and I cried too often. I grew up in a
man’s world where I didn’t belong.
And when I couldn’t be him, I
wanted only to please him. I put on your make-up and wore your short
skirts. I gave my life, my body, my dignity, for the cause of being
pretty. I knew that no matter what I did, I was worthy only to the
degree that I could please and be beautiful for my master. And so I
spent my life on the cover of Cosmo and gave my body for you to sell.
I was a slave, but you taught me I
was free. I was your object, but you swore it was success. You taught
me that my purpose in life was to be on display, to attract, and be
beautiful for men. You had me believe that my body was created to market
your cars. And you raised me to think I was an ugly duckling. But you
lied.
Islam tells me, I’m a swan. I’m different – it’s meant to be that way. And my body, my soul, was created for something more.
God says in the Qur’an, “O
mankind, indeed We have created you from male and female and made you
peoples and tribes that you may know one another. Indeed, the most noble
of you in the sight of Allah is the most righteous of you. Indeed,
Allah is Knowing and Acquainted.” (49:13)
So I am honored. But it is not by
my relationship to men. My value as a woman is not measured by the size
of my waist or the number of men who like me. My worth as a human being
is measured on a higher scale: a scale of righteousness and piety. And
my purpose in life – despite what the fashion magazines say – is
something more sublime than just looking good for men.
And so God tells me to cover
myself, to hide my beauty and to tell the world that I’m not here to
please men with my body; I’m here to please God. God elevates the
dignity of a woman’s body by commanding that it be respected and
covered, shown only to the deserving – only to the man I marry.
So to those who wish to ‘liberate’ me, I have only one thing to say: “Thanks, but no thanks.”
I’m not here to be on display.
And my body is not for public consumption. I will not be reduced to an
object, or a pair of legs to sell shoes. I’m a soul, a mind, a servant
of God. My worth is defined by the beauty of my soul, my heart, my moral
character. So, I won’t worship your beauty standards, and I don’t
submit to your fashion sense. My submission is to something higher.
With my veil I put my faith on
display – rather than my beauty. My value as a human is defined by my
relationship with God, not by my looks. I cover the irrelevant. And when
you look at me, you don’t see a body. You view me only for what I am: a
servant of my Creator.
You see, as a Muslim woman, I’ve
been liberated from a silent kind of bondage. I don’t answer to the
slaves of God on earth. I answer to their King.
No comments:
Post a Comment