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What do I have to offer other than my beauty? Why am I so obsessed with looking like the most beautiful woman in the room? I think the answers to these questions stem from different pressure points I’ve been feeling all my life. Last month, I seriously considered wearing the niqab. The fact that I could make the decision to completely change how I present myself to the world gave me such an adrenaline rush. I liked thinking about how, if I went through with it, I’d be free from the constant fear of being criticized by others. On the other hand, a part of me put me on the spot and said: “You’re not doing this for God. You’re doing this for your own benefit, and once you reap that temporary benefit, you’ll abandon the niqab and go back to your ways.”
The benefit that I saw from wearing the niqab was that I wouldn’t be seen. And, to be absolutely frank, I didn’t want to be seen. I didn’t like how I looked, and I also didn’t like how much of a shell I’ve become because of how uncomfortable and unconfident I felt in my own body. I thought that not being seen would help me. In hindsight, I don’t think I was wrong to think that. Wearing the niqab surely would’ve helped in the sense that my physical form wouldn’t be perceived by others, but I didn’t come to this solution from the right place. If I went through with it, I would’ve had more problems in the long run. I like to think I’m capable of making smarter choices. I don’t see the point in making decisions that only give me temporary relief then eventually become a permanent burden and headache for me in future.
Why am I so afraid to look ugly? I actually don’t even think I look ugly. I think I’m pretty, but in the average sense. That’s my problem. I don’t view myself as this mesmerizing person whose beautiful presence people find magnetizing and alluring. That’s why I always feel the need to go above and beyond with my looks. There is a major difference between how I currently am versus being a normal person who takes care of her looks and has a healthy amount of concern over how others perceive her. Maybe it’s because I’m overweight and I know that being overweight isn’t necessarily an advantage. I don’t want to obsess over how I look. I want people to see my talents and achievements when they look at me or hear about me. And I know it might be the perfectionist in me speaking, but I’m thinking that being the “oh she’s gorgeous” type of person and being a literal talent-bomb legend in the making are two completely different levels of being. I think I haven’t yet reconciled that in people’s eyes, I can’t be both at the same time.
This morning, a sobering sentence suddenly came to me: I’m here on borrowed time. That realization scared me for a bit, but then the fear almost immediately subsided because I know that death is as natural as life. I know more than anyone that my worship, my focus, my living and my death are all for God, and that nothing is mine, including this body I hate living in. This body isn’t mine. Why should I harbour so much hate and dissatisfaction for something that isn’t mine? Why should I make my body feel unworthy or unaccepted by me? It isn’t mine. And I’m so much more than how my body is structured. I should take care of it because it will eventually go back to its owner one day, and I don’t want it to testify against me. My hate for how I look isn’t doing me any good. Just because the people around me appear vain and seem to have accepted and ascribed to the idea that one type of body is the perfect body doesn’t mean that I have to join them in their ways.
Everything will be okay. I tap my collarbone when I want to feel something. I’m not worried about anything. I’m following Alice’s footsteps. Wonderland is where everything is not. It’s where everything wrong and upside down in your way, and not the world’s way. It really is beautiful to think about six impossibly possible things before breakfast. I prayed fajr this morning! Praying truly makes me feel invincible. My sister offered me one of those large iced caramel bullshit coffees with the whip on top even though she’s clearly aware of the fact that I’m trying to lose weight. I clearly declined her offer and reminded her that I’m on a clean diet. Would I be wrong, dear reader, to think that she wants to sabotage the little progress I made with my body and diet and overall health? Eh… it’s not good that I’m immediately assuming the worst of people. I should be more careful.