People tend to forget that when you wish to cover up for religious purpose, you don’t do it half way. Some women who still struggle, bless them all, sometimes cover up only the hair and not the chest, only the feet and not the ankle, and I have highest respect to all those who still try no matter how difficult it is even in the most supporting environment, let alone a nonsupporting one.

So what is the problem?

The problem is, I am on my way trying to work on covering up every bit of skin that hide so many sin, and while it was never a struggle before when I believe I’m doing it for His sake, even my patience is wearing thin that I was close to snapping at my friends, and this coming from someone who dislike confrontation.

“Ew, why is your socks so long?” or “Ew, freak.”

Those hurt, and I laughed it off nonchalantly while reminding myself they don’t understand, and I can’t hate them for what they have no full comprehension of.

But the feelings crawl and itch right under my skin, to the ugliest side of my heart, and words that I wish I get to truthfully throw left and right feel like acid to my tongue.

In all honesty, I know they make me look like a freak, I know that, but does it ever occur to you that I still slap them on each morning because it’s for He who matters more?

Look how whiny I sound. This is pathetic of me too, to make such a big fuss out of it.

A playful banter is something I can take, knife-sharp words are something I grew to adjust with for the past two years, but I don’t wish this judgment upon anybody else who are still struggling with their Hijrah, and so I beg of you, don’t speak if you don’t have anything nice to say.

Leave people be with what they do, like how they leave you with what you do. Judge behind closed doors, reprimand only if it is something that truly counts as bad. Keep distance if you can’t hurt your image by being with them, and stay if you can’t give an ounce to care. It’s only simple, humane, and it doesn’t cost a thing.

Here’s to the struggle of Hijrah.