I have been raised like this since my childhood; I mean I already knew that I have to cover my hair one day.

Hello. I didn’t think of writing here before I lost all hope. Maybe it would be more enjoyable to read a girl’s letter who thinks that she will achieve everything she wants but I’m sorry. They made me give up all my hope and I feel empty.

I started to wear the hijab in my first year of high school. I was kind of a girl whose friends reacted like “Whoa! Have you covered your hair?” and who had been straightening her hair every morning. I have been raised like this since my childhood; I mean I already knew that I have to cover my hair one day. When I was in middle school, I used to say things like “I will become a hijabi when I start to high school.” So, I did it compulsorily in high school. I have been raised in such extremism since my childhood that if you wear pants in our home that means you deserve to burn in hell.

I first started to think about taking off my hijab in the summer of 9th grade. I shared it with my friends while I was sobbing. I didn’t have any courage to do it so I made myself believe that I will get used to it one day. But after one year when I told this to my mother, I received the answer which I totally expected: “I would disown you.” I couldn’t say anything. I decided that I would do it when I finish high school. This year, which is my last year in high school, I can’t take it anymore. I just want it to happen immediately. When I told this to my father in this semester, he said “I prefer to die rather than seeing you like that.” I can’t explain how much it hurts to hear such a thing from someone whom I believe that loves me. After one week, I was ready to go out without wearing a hijab. My mother saw my hair and beat me while dragging me on the floor and pulling my hair. It didn’t matter, it wasn’t my first beating. When my father heard this he said “I will kill you if you go out. You won’t go to school anymore.’’ Even my brother whose interest in religion is subpar walked up to me and said ‘’ How could you make a 50 -year-old man cry, are you going to be a whore?’’ I cried throughout two days. After those two days my mother said ‘’Make up with your father, he was crying last night.’’ I didn’t say anything. In the morning while they were having breakfast, my father started to cry and quaver. My mother woke me up in a hurry and said ‘’Wake up, there is something wrong with your father.’’ I woke up and we talked, so called. I told them my problems, and no one understood me. My father went out for some fresh air. After 5 minutes he came back and hugged me. That means ‘’Okay, you made a mistake, but I forgive you.’’ I couldn’t say ‘’Well, what about me? What is going to happen to me?’’

I am forced to live in a home where no one cares about my opinions and I am in a body which my soul doesn’t belong to. I can’t take it anymore. I swear I can’t.

(Image: Ewa Kuryluk)

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