Women in Headscarves Aren’t Judging Me
In Pakistan, I grew up surrounded by women who wear headscarves. It was all my aunts. It was one out of every few women I saw walking down the street. It was even a few girls at school that were swaddled into it at an early age.
The whole concept creeped me out. Islam taught women that we need to cover our heads (and basically, our entire bodies) to protect ourselves from the male gaze. I never understood why women had to suffer because men couldn’t keep their impure thoughts to themselves. Not to mention, it was unbearably hot in Pakistan so I got a secondhand heat stroke every time I saw a woman in the traditional black robes that sometimes accompanied the headscarf.
I am ashamed to say I judged these women.
I had very western ideas of how women in headscarves were subjugated and brainwashed. I always felt that these women were, in turn, judging me. Me, with my uncovered head, my bare chest (definition: chest not covered by a scarf worn on top of your regular clothing), and my short shirts that still covered all the essentials.
I wasn’t a devout Muslim woman in their eyes. I had lapsed — I was a sinner. My mother wanted me to wear a dupatta (the scarf to cover your chest) every time…
