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We live in an era of extreme convenience, and it’s no surprise this has greatly dulled our capacity for hardship. When people can work remotely, do Instacart groceries, and see what their friends are up to without leaving the premises of home – discomfort becomes a counterculture. It’s easy to lose touch with the value of hardship, a quality that nurtures the soul and draws us closer to Allah SWT. I’ve found that wearing the hijab serves as an act of resistance to this culture of ease, because it pushes us to put our desires second to God. A challenge when our lives have been structured to prioritize ourselves. Unlike praying or fasting, which can be done privately, hijab is a more blatant reminder that some of the most beneficial acts of worship are meant to be uncomfortable and can leave us struggling. And that is okay.
It’s been about two years since I began to wear my head scarf, and beginning my journey was probably the easiest part of it all. After having worn it over three days at an Islamic convention, it had felt natural to keep it on a fourth. Luckily, I missed the trends of infinity scarves doubling as a hijab or overly voluminous buns under the scarf, but this did little to help me avoid an embarrassing hijab phase. Growing pains were inevitable as I figured out a way to wear it that aligned with Islamic guidelines. However, I recognize my overcomplication of a commandment Allah SWT had sent down to provide a straightforward solution to maintain modesty. There is nothing modest about the way I’d spent months of my life pondering over the right shade of material, or the ideal drape for my face shape. I tended to gravitate towards styles that felt the least polarizing, and I wasn’t alone in this.
Thousands of young women go through a similar experimental period, hoping to find a style that can push themselves back into their comfort zone. It didn’t take me long to notice that companies capitalize off these feelings of inadequacy, turning hijab into something to perfect rather than an earnest commandment to fulfill. Influencer culture and the fashion industry waste no time in reducing a spiritual practice into a mode of consumerism, selling scarves with signature prints that double as a badge of belonging. If you own a certain brand of hijab, you gain access to a new in-group. Hijab becomes more about conformity and less about conviction. The discomfort of standing out is traded for the comfort of blending into a group that outwardly looks similar but may not share the same values. But how meaningful can a community based on matching scarves really be? After all, a shared shopping cart is not a shared struggle. Communities built off the commodification of the hijab may offer a fleeting sense of alliance, but at its core, they’re a hollow outlet to escape the discomfort that gives hijab its true meaning.
I’ve always wanted my hijab to be the least interesting thing about me. Because I truly feel it is. It’s something I put on and go about my day. What’s been disorienting, however, is that no matter how second nature it feels to me, it will always be the first thing others notice. It forces a constant confrontation with faith. Yet, I have learned to let this be a strength. My hijab guides me into behaving with awareness and encourages me to show up as the best version of myself. Over time, what has proved the most rewarding to me is the sincerity of wearing it for the sake of Allah SWT every day, despite any obstacles it may bring. This shift in perspective helped me understand that the discomfort I wrestle with at times isn’t a roadblock to avoid, but rather a sign of the deeper commitment I’ve made.
In a world where faith feels increasingly foreign, I gently remind myself that strangeness was always part of the deal. The Prophet ﷺ said, “Islam began as something strange, and it will return to being strange, so blessed are the strangers,” (Sahih Muslim 145). Faith has never been about comfort; it has always demanded conviction. If strangeness is the price of sincerity, I pray to always remain a stranger.
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Nadia Ranginwala is currently an undergraduate in her last year, finishing her Neuroscience B.S. She is also the President of Muslim Women of IU. In her free time, she enjoys practicing her mehndi (henna art) skills, making matcha lattes, and running some pickleball.
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