I am a Muslim girl who chose to cover. I chose to wear my hijab as a sign of my renewed faith and my commitment to my creator. I chose this path for myself despite opposition from various members of my community as well as my own family. My family and I are part of a very tight-knit Bengali community. The Bengali community consists of people who were born in Bangladesh and migrated to the states in the hopes of acquiring a better future for their children. I am the youngest in my family; since I was born I have always been spoiled. My mistakes were always hidden and my achievements were always broadcasted. My parents and my older sister always shielded me from the perils of life and the negative aspects of my community. So when I decided to wear the hijab my family was more scared for me than they were proud. They were scared of how our community would react, they were scared of how society would react to me and most of all they were scared for my safety.
Due to my families opposition I expected more hostility than support from the Bengali community. The Bengali community consisted of meddling aunties and boasting uncles who were very quick to judge. The ignorance that they displayed was even more discouraging to me than my own families. They asked my mother and father if the reason behind my sudden closeness to my religion was because they had discovered that I had a boyfriend, or something of that nature. I felt uncomfortable watching my parents squirm as they were questioned about my hijab. My parent’s answer to every question was that she decided to wear it on her own and it was her decision, but this answer was not sufficient for the Bengali community. Their mentality had limits and when someone did something that was beyond the limits of their understanding, it caused them to question that person to such a great extent, that they made the person feel like they were in the wrong and they were right. It wasn’t that