Everything is Going to Change

When I was a little girl, I used to hate change. Mom would always tease me. “Amerra, likes for everything to remain the same.

Amerra, which means “princess” in Arabic, and the Islamic name I was given as a child.

I think I’m still that person. Inside anyway. Little Amerra is still in there trying to halt movements that are too fast, too uncomfortable. It’s so safe right where we are. To move in an unknown direction, to make a leap of faith is just too much for her to carry, too much for many of us to carry.

So, we remain stagnant. And comfortable. Never venturing out into the wild that is life.

It is both sad yet understandable.  

For me, I was forced to accept change. Does that mean I’m in love with it? Hell nah! But I get it. I understand—for the most part—that if I don’t move, the world will continue to move with or without me present.

When I say that I was forced to accept change, I mean that a series of shit occurred. Shit that stunned me. Shit that rendered me helpless, confused. Everything stopped. I was at the crossroads of going left or right. On the left was pain and misery on the right was also pain and misery. But, the right had some added benefits. With that pain and misery was acceptance. It was a route that I would be able to become my own narrator. Instead of allowing the world to narrate for me.

I think that too many people are afraid to take the wheel and become their own narrator because for one it’s scary as shit and secondly, it makes them accountable.

Change to me was being accountable. Holding others accountable.

Trust me when I tell you that this role isn’t easy to slide into. You come up against a lot of foolishness once you take on the challenge. I’ve noticed that people want to do what they want without consequences. Everyone just wants to be accepted as they are. But, that’s not really fair. Maybe your ‘as is’ ain’t good. Not good for you and not good for others. I know for a fact that mine wasn’t. Like at all. The person I was five years ago wasn’t good. It was doable. But not great.

Everything is going to change, I told myself two years ago.

And, would you look at that. Everything has changed.

I’ve changed. Situations have changed. Some slow and some fast. I’ve found myself being able to cope with change much quicker and more openly than before. I’ve moved less away from the rigidity of childhood and become a tad more fluid.

Yet there are still moments of complete rigidness, where I won’t bend for shit. Some work out and others, I am again forced to accept.

I’m still learning when to hold on and when to let go.

Last year, for me, was a year of hardship and discovery. I discovered that I had writing talent that I always knew I had but others wouldn’t give me the time of day to figure out. I always wondered how I was going to get my work seen. Heard. Nobody was checking for me. My little artsy feelings were hurt. But, I had talent, I screamed from the tops of mountains. Still no one cared.

When I tell you that I quit or almost quit multiple times is an understatement. It is HARD to do what I do. You, the spectator, get to look at the pretty photos and read the well-crafted sentences for free. Not seeing all the behind the scenes work that’s put into it. Not seeing me trying to drag myself out of bed every morning. Battling depression and anxiety. Wondering if anyone is reading this shit or am I just talking to my damn self.

I made a promise though. That no matter what, I’d always write. Every day. For free, if I had to. Because I am words and words are me. Simply.

This year. Man, this year, my endurance was put to the test. There wasn’t a chance to quit or tussle with change because I had gotten all the opportunities right in my lap. They piled on top of each other. After starting my blogging career in 2013, things were starting to change. For the good and bad. Friends started to drop off like flies, their true intentions revealed. I landed my very first commercial in the UK. I went to Barcelona on a random solo trip. I still don’t have a man on the account of me being too “intimating”. I’ve cultivated so many relationships with so many lady friends and have built a tribe all over the world.

“Everything is going to change,” I said to myself right before I knew I was getting divorced. Right before I knew all the foolery that he was a willing participant in.  

I felt it in my bones. In my aura. I knew it was coming whether I wanted it to or not.

And, it did come. Sooner than I wanted but that’s not for me to control. I can only control how ready I am for it when it comes.

What has changed in your life? Were you ready for it? What kind of change would you like to see in the near future?

Xoxo,

Leah V

Am I Not Muslim Enough For You?

I really hate the internet sometimes. Seems like in every crack and crevice is a someone lurking in the shadows to call you out on a misplaced period or find a sliver of your ankle meat showing so they can immediately tell you that you are soooo not a Muslim and to immediately remove your hijab because you are disgracing Islam.

Last week, I had to block multiple Muslim sisters who felt the need to tell me that I’m haram (forbidden by Islamic law) and the things that I do are haram. Mind you, these are folks that have followed me. I’ve been called haram for the most part of my life. And, the things that I do are most likely looked down upon in a traditional sense. That’s totally fine. I get it. There are certain rules in Islam that I just don’t abide by. Modesty is one of them. My clothes are way too tight. I don’t cover my neck. Heck, you might even see some arm meat once in a while. My face is usually beat to the gawds *tongue pop*.  I could lie and say that I’m working on it just to appease the Haram-Police, but I’m not. I’m not working on my level of modesty. Why? Because I don’t want to right now.

One girl direct messaged me saying that men could ‘see me’. That she was all for my Black Muslim empowerment but she thought I was taking my freedom too far and she hadn’t followed me for that purpose…

Another said that I was sinning so hard that I should just take my hijab off.

Booties: ELOQUII 

Leah V, you are such a bad Muslim that you should take your hijab off. Just throw the whole hijab away. It’s so sad and so funny simultaneously. I kinda want to make a parody of reasons why Muslims tell other Muslims to take their hijab off.

OMG. You’ve stepped into the mosque with your left foot. Take your hijab off!

You prayed way too fast. Take your hijab off!

You ordered a chicken sandwich on a Tuesday. You know what? Just take off your HIJAB!!!

It’s mind-boggling that someone would tell you to sin again because you already sinned once. So, basically, what they are saying is that when you do something wrong, there is no coming back. Just quit. Because you’ve failed. And, if that ideology is true then they are far less of a Muslim than I thought.  

The reason why I’m writing about this is because I was triggered, and I know many other hijabis (and non-hijabis) who go through this daily.

Fit: Rainbow Shops

For many years, my body has been heavily policed. I’ve never been Black enough. I wasn’t thin enough. And, I was never Muslim enough. Even when I tried to be super-holy Muslimah, it never was enough. During those times, I wasn’t even dressing modestly for Allah (swt) I was doing it so no one from the community could call me a whore or a slut. I was doing it so my mom would think I was a good and abiding Muslim girl. I did it so my ex could be proud of how outwardly Muslim I was.

Many of us miss the point of Islam. We aren’t doing ‘good’ things to please people. We do them because we love Allah (swt) and because good things boost our spiritual connections. And, your ‘good’ isn’t one size fits all. Your good can be so many things. Being a Muslim isn’t a one size fits all and it’s definitely not I-shame-you-into-submission.

The Muslims, people that like to shame others, the ones who circle around your head like a crow waiting for you to do something ‘haram’, and the ones who project their own insecurities onto you don’t deserve your or my time.

I’ve just gotten to a point where I’m okay with me.

My hijab, or lack of, is my business. I can wear the hijab, an abaya, and even a veil, and be Muslim. I can wear no scarf, shorts, and a tube top, and be Muslim, still.

And, if you don’t agree, then peace be unto you. But, your negativity won’t stop me from practicing.  

Are Muslims supposed to cover, be modest? Yes. Do we do it all the time? No. Why? Cuz we’re human. And humans do what they want to do at the end of the day. Let my struggle be that, my struggle. Let my spirituality, be that. My spirituality.

I’m not obligated to share with you how close or far I am from my religion.

I find it odd that Muslim men never get policed as much as Muslim women do. They can go out into the world and be anonymous, when hijabis are visible and at risk. We’re the ones getting attacked and we still wear hijabs faithfully and rock our religion with poise and confidence.

I’m tired of people policing my faith and the faith of others and telling me to take off my hijab.

You think I’m not Muslim enough. Well, that’s your right and prerogative. Delete me. Think I’m not representing? Delete me. Think I’m a bad role model? Delete me. No hard feelings. Honestly. Why follow someone you don’t think is living right? I’m so shooketh, but also not really. LOL.    

Who else has experienced such body policing? We need to put this all on the table. Let’s chat.

xoxo,

Leah V