Goodbye, normal
At some point, about thirteen years ago, I said ‘goodbye’ to the comfort of normality.
When I accepted Islam and started to look like a Muslim, following the teachings of Islam in my daily life, I set myself apart from the mainstream forever.
Most of the time, I wear this unique identity with pride, content with the deen of Allah as my way of life. But there are times when the burden of being a representative of Islam, of being a symbol for Muslim womanhood, begin to chafe.
They chafe because I am aware of the negative stereotypes and clichés that flood the minds of many when they see me, a niqab-wearing woman, out with her bearded husband and four children. At times like these, I find myself longing for anonymity, true anonymity, not the anonymity of my face being hidden from view but the anonymity of blending in, of being indistinguishable from everyone else, the anonymity of being ‘normal’.
But then I realise that such desires are not realistic, let alone healthy. What is ‘normal’ and who defines it? Isn’t normality in the eye of the beholder? After all, if blending into the ‘mainstream’ had been my goal, I would never have chosen Islam in the first place.
For my life, with all its diverse characters, exciting challenges and unusual scenarios, will never be ‘normal’.
And my family, with all its fabulous flaws, will never be ‘normal’ – we are too diverse, too unique, too individual to fit into any box. And I realise that I love us that way.
More importantly, this is how Allah (SWT) has created my family. ‘Normal’ hasn’t been written for me. And that’s just fine.
The Prophet (SAW) said that Islam began strange and it will end strange as it began, so give glad tidings to the strangers (Muslim).
The irony of it is this: being ‘strange’ can actually work for you – if you let it. If you embrace your ‘strangeness’, if you own it and wear it with pride, it can become a special, unique strength. Indeed our ‘strangeness’ has the ability to shatter preconceptions, to refresh attitudes, to surprise, to delight and to enlighten.
If we stop apologising, if we stop hiding, if we stop assuming the role of maligned outsiders, we cease to be victims of our ‘strangeness’ – we start to redefine ‘normal’. We are able to, with our humility, creativity and grace, carve a niche for ourselves in our society’s consciousness, effecting change from the inside.
So, let us bid farewell to those feelings of discomfort, shame and fear. Let us be smiling, confident, positive ‘strangers’ and, insha Allah, we will find that everyone we touch starts to see ‘normal’ in a new light.
Wasalaam
Na’ima B. Robert
The May issue is out now. Visit www.sisters-magazine.com to get your copy.
I really enjoyed your book ‘Sisters’ lips’ and am glad that you have such a nice website.
Please keep the on posting nice articles and writing good books. I look forward to reading them all, Insha Allah.
Beautifully written and well understood. As a convert myself I completely understand where you are coming from. As a man who does not necessarily look stereotypically muslim I do not perhaps fully appreciate the fullness of the change you encountered and continue to be reminded of. Outwardly, people do not judge me on my beliefs as they do not know what they are. They judge me on my colour and that is something, as you so rightly said, I have learned to be positive and confident about. I just want to add that it is not an advantage for me, not in the full sense, to look “normal”. It only delays the inevitable moment when people realise that I’m not. The disappointment (often, mistaken or sometimes confused with surprise) can also be hard to bare when the realisation that they are dealing with ‘one of THOSE…..people’ surfaces. Strength of character is built, just as muscles are of the body, with persistence, attention and most importantly, over time. Over time I have learned to embrace my ‘difference’ and I use the non-judgemental space between meeting and realisation to instil the strength of my character; honesty, kindness and tolerance. This as you already put it, helps to shatter negative preconceptions. I have actually been told “you’re quite nice for a Muzzy”. Charming.
I do not wear the niqab. Pray Allah guides me to the Path. However, when i chose to wear the 1 piece Jilbab Free, plain and flowing,i can still recall everymoment of it about 1 year and half now.The feeling i got inside me gave me the assur…ance that i was special. The more people look at me strangely, the more i felt like “a Queen” but of course i am. The more friends keep thier distance, the more i realised that people have different reasons of being your friends. The more difficult it was the more ” Sakinah” i got from Allah.
If we all learn to identify with who we are and why we do what we are doing, then why should we bother?, why should we be “sorry”? Why should we be apologetic?……..The list of my Whys? is endless.
Let us remember that we are the best of creations. So why shouldn’t we be proud of this honour?
What a wonderful message…may Allah bless and guide your family and all of us. Aameen!
Assalaam alaikum, I really luv the new look of your website! And your articles as well