- Women in Iran and abroad are fighting for their right to choose after the death of Mahsa Amini.
- Amini died in September after Iran’s morality police arrested her for not wearing the hijab properly.
- 3 women share why they’ve chosen to give up or keep their hijabs, and what the choice meant to them.
Women in Iran and abroad are taking to the streets, burning headscarves and cutting their hair to protest the death of Mahsa Amini in September.
Amini died after Iran’s morality police arrested her for failing to wear the hijab correctly. Their fight follows a decades-long history of rising up for a woman’s right to choose.
Young women around the world shared with Insider why they chose to give up — or keep — their hijabs, and what the choice meant to them. Some have requested to go by their first names only to protect their privacy.
‘The harder they policed it, the less it felt like it was my choice to wear it’
“I grew up in a fundamentalist Muslim family. My mom is a white American and my dad is from Saudi Arabia. We went to the mosque every Friday and did prayer five times a day — we had a speaker system in the house and the alarm would go off for prayer.”
“My parents kept me sheltered from the ‘outside world.’ I was homeschooled my entire life, except for one year in an Islamic academy, and my parents even had a problem with that. I didn’t have friends, and grew up around other Muslim families. I wasn’t even allowed to talk to male family members.”
“I first started wearing the hijab before I was five years old, which is pretty early. When I was seven or eight years old — right after the election of Obama — a lady walked up to me in the grocery store and ranted about the future of the US. She grabbed the front of my hijab and pulled it, ranting to my mom that I was an abomination. I didn’t even know what the word meant, but I remember crying. It was one of the most traumatizing events of my life.”
“As a child, I just wanted to be like my mom, so I wore my hijab. Instances of bigotry actually made me feel empowered to wear it.”
“But I felt like a walking symbol for my religion in a way my brothers weren’t.”
“I started rebelling in my teenage years. I’d argue with my parents all the time about whether my pants were too tight, whether my sleeves covered my wrists, whether my hijab was worn correctly. They warned me that God was following me and watching me at all times, and told me I was lucky I could wear pants and not wear a full-length burka.”
“The harder they policed it, the less it felt like it was my choice to wear it.”
“The protests right now give me hope that there can be a future where women can choose to wear the hijab. It’s empowering to have the choice and make it, as opposed to being told it’s something you have to do to be seen as any good in the eyes of god.”
– Saadia, 21 years old, Tennessee
‘I can’t imagine my hijab being anything but a choice’
“I started wearing my hijab a month before I turned 14. It is the best decision I made in my life. I have never once regretted it.”
“Wearing a hijab has nothing to do with society. I was never forced to wear it. I did it for Allah and for Him alone.”
“I did not mind that it exposed me, made me a target even though it still made me afraid. I was willing to fight for it because the hijab became more than just a headscarf. It was a friend, a spiritual connection, a shield. More importantly, it is a statement. My body belongs to me and I get to choose what I can wear. I chose to cover. I will continue to do so.”
“I lost count of the negative comments I received online for wearing the hijab, and for being a Muslim in general. I have even been called a terrorist.”
“On my first day of college, I was the only Muslim in class. I sat awkwardly with people who were disinterested in my attempts at conversation. The second day was better, and that’s when I realized that as a hijabi, first impressions work differently for me. They want to know whether I’m dangerous first before they think to find out if I’m nice.”
“The protests in Iran are both heartbreaking and inspiring. I can’t imagine my hijab being anything but a choice and it is really disturbing to not only see it being forced on women but also being used as a pathetic excuse to senselessly kill them.”
“It is ironic that people would advocate women’s rights while demanding that women take off the hijab. And I think people are under the impression that those who continue to wear hijab in the light of what is happening do not care about Iran. That is a big, big misconception. If anything, being a hijabi in a non-Muslim country taught me to empathize more with those who do not have the right to choose like I do.”
– Mezka Manaal Mazeed, 20 years old, Sri Lanka
‘We don’t ask for this pressure, this shame culture’
“My parents were raised in their villages in Afghanistan and came here in the late 70s. Afghan culture played a big role in my day-to-day life growing up, same as a lot of other immigrant children: You have your culture in your house, and then when you leave your house and go to school, you’re immersed in American culture.”
“I went to an Islamic middle school from third to eighth grade. I learned a lot about my religion, Sunni Islam. We celebrated Eid — Ramadan was a very fun time. When I was younger, I wasn’t really aware that something was religious or cultural. It was all just part of my life.”
“I had to wear the hijab in middle school as part of my uniform, and for Sunday school at our local masjid. As soon as I came home, I’d take it off. I started wearing it when I was 12 outside of school because my other family members, Afghan neighbors, and friends started wearing it. There was this unspoken sense of community.”
“When I started high school and college away from my Muslim friends and family, I began to think, ‘Am I wearing it for myself, or am I wearing it because people around me are?’ I started wearing it differently, like a turban, then eventually on and off.”
“When women wear hijab, they’re subjected to this expectation from others. You expect her to have really good morals, to not make mistakes in front of other people, and do all the religious things that a Muslim does. It’s a lot for women to take because we don’t ask for this pressure, this shame culture.”
“I remember the day I didn’t wear the hijab to work, a Muslim coworker asked, ‘Are you not Muslim anymore?’ I was so flabbergasted. How do the two correlate? What does a woman’s attire have to do with her faith?”
“Some Muslim women express faith differently. For me, the hijab started to lose its meaning of faith. I wasn’t comfortable wearing it because I didn’t feel like myself. I finally took it off after deciding that this is my body, and that the only person who knows me the most is myself.”
– Naseema, 27 years old, New York
