There is a specific kind of silence that comes with being a modern, visibly Muslim woman.
Here is the secret I have learned at thirty: burkha under my lipstick
For a long time, I thought these two parts of me were at war. I thought the burkha (or more accurately, my hijab and modest clothing) was the enemy of my femininity. I thought the lipstick was a betrayal of my faith. There is a specific kind of silence that
I was wrong. They aren’t enemies. They are roommates in a very cramped studio apartment called my soul. I thought the lipstick was a betrayal of my faith
But underneath that glossy sheen is the burkha —or rather, the hijr (the protection). It is the shield. It is the whisper that says, Your value is not in your neck, your hair, or the curve of your ears. Your value is in your substance.
I wear the lipstick because I am allowed to be beautiful. I wear the burkha because I am more than just beauty.
Let your hijab sit next to your highlighter. Let your prayer mat sit next to your vanity table.