I grew up in a conservative, well-known family. A kindergarten that raises religious, Qur’an courses that go every summer from primary school 1, weekly evening conversations in secondary school… I grew up with a classical conservative child raising method. I always knew I was going to veil. Despite having a period in the 6th grade, my family did not insist that I veil immediately. They weren’t messing with my clothes when I wasn’t veiled, but they knew I would veil one day.
Although I didn’t want to, I went to an excellent İmam Hatip1 School. The school I wanted was utterly opposite to religious school. Still, they sent me to the religious one, saying, “I will get out of the way,” “I will not veil,” and “I am a girl.” They were right, I wouldn’t veil, but I wouldn’t be that far away from religion.
I tried to adapt to the school in the first year, but it was not an environment that I was used to. Although my family’s environment is conservative, I have never been in such a restrictive environment. I was always very attentive to my state and actions, my clothes at school with the lameness of being not veiled in the first year. In my second year, I was relieved when I was veiled, and my friendship atmosphere was formed. The religious school has done a lot of harm to me psychologically. I have always been judged, always people were wrong about me. At first, I was like sliding into religion. I could even be radical, but I couldn’t. It wasn’t in my fitra2. As I saw the veiled women or Muslims around me, I got more away. But I can’t reflect it to my family, and this hypocrisy wears me down. For the sake of something I do not believe, I have to restrict myself and sacrifice my freedom.
But my family will never accept me taking off the headscarf, and I am financially dependent on them. When I gain my economic independence, I will have to give up on them completely. I want this on the one hand, but why can’t they just love me for being me? Just because I am their daughter.
Why should I be ashamed of my hair, my body, my sexuality, and hide them? The idea of protection from men sounds very primitive and patriarchal.
I hope one day, I can gather my courage and explain myself to my family.
Imam Hatip schools are educational institutes in Turkey where people are trained for religious professions such as imams besides the formal education.
Fıtra is an Islamic term to refer to one’s nature and natural abilities.
I grew up in a conservative, well-known family. A kindergarten that raises religious, Qur’an courses that go every summer from primary school 1, weekly evening conversations in secondary school… I grew up with a classical conservative child raising method. I always knew I was going to veil. Despite having a period in the 6th grade, my family did not insist that I veil immediately. They weren’t messing with my clothes when I wasn’t veiled, but they knew I would veil one day.
Although I didn’t want to, I went to an excellent İmam Hatip1 School. The school I wanted was utterly opposite to religious school. Still, they sent me to the religious one, saying, “I will get out of the way,” “I will not veil,” and “I am a girl.” They were right, I wouldn’t veil, but I wouldn’t be that far away from religion.
I tried to adapt to the school in the first year, but it was not an environment that I was used to. Although my family’s environment is conservative, I have never been in such a restrictive environment. I was always very attentive to my state and actions, my clothes at school with the lameness of being not veiled in the first year. In my second year, I was relieved when I was veiled, and my friendship atmosphere was formed. The religious school has done a lot of harm to me psychologically. I have always been judged, always people were wrong about me. At first, I was like sliding into religion. I could even be radical, but I couldn’t. It wasn’t in my fitra2. As I saw the veiled women or Muslims around me, I got more away. But I can’t reflect it to my family, and this hypocrisy wears me down. For the sake of something I do not believe, I have to restrict myself and sacrifice my freedom.
But my family will never accept me taking off the headscarf, and I am financially dependent on them. When I gain my economic independence, I will have to give up on them completely. I want this on the one hand, but why can’t they just love me for being me? Just because I am their daughter.
Why should I be ashamed of my hair, my body, my sexuality, and hide them? The idea of protection from men sounds very primitive and patriarchal.
I hope one day, I can gather my courage and explain myself to my family.
(Image: Guim Tió)