So I have now left home. Some of you may be reading this who know me. I did this because I wasn't allowed to do even normal things at home. My father stopped me so many times from fully expressing myself. I wasn't allowed to do a hairdressing course because it would mean cutting other people's hair, shock horror. I was told if I wanted to be a hairdresser, I could only cut my friends' hair in mine or their homes. So I was thinking, forget that, I'd rather not do the course at all if I can't go out and work in a salon like a normal person. Then came looking for work. I was basically told not to work, not directly but pretty much. My dad would say how if he could he'd buy me anything I wanted. The problem was he didn't have enough money to support me and everyone else in our family. I barely had any clothes, things were getting a bit desperate and nobody could help me. I decided to go on jobseekers allowance to tide me over until I found a job. My dad tried to persuade me not to start claiming. He said it was annoying how you are treated and I'd be better off not on it. I decided to put with that if it meant getting the money I needed to buy much needed clothes and so on. That's the problem, you can tell your daughter not to work, not to claim benefits, but can you give her an alternative? If you can't, then let her go ahead with it. Working is not such a bad thing. You learn how to budget for yourself, basically be an adult. Yes it's not all easy and there are times money is tight, I am experiencing that right now, but it's part of being in the real world. It's something I have to deal with whether I like it or not.
I then started to dress differently. I had always worn a headscarf and a jilbab, basically a black loose dress that goes over your clothing to cover it. I started to get fed up wearing the jilbab. I didn't feel like myself in it. I felt like a foreign woman, like I didn't fit in. I also wanted to get a decent job and I felt like it was holding me back. I know people will tell me I should just keep on wearing it, but I couldn't do it anymore. I was still wearing my headscarf at this point, but no jilbab. I felt comfortable, and I also felt I was covered up. I wasn't showing any skin apart from my hands and face. Everything else was still covered up. My dad wasn't happy with this. He took to explaining over and over again how a Muslim woman should dress. I said I knew, hadn't I spent many years dressed just as he was describing? I knew perfectly well what Islam says about it. It didn't stop him telling me over and over again, and in fact before I took my jilbab, some of my friends took theirs off, also their headscarves. My dad would tell me to tell them how to dress too. I refused, saying it wasn't my job to say it. Also I knew for a fact their parents were telling them to dress more Islamically too. Again, they used to dress that way so they knew how it should be. Obviously they had personal issues, same as me, which is why they had started dressing differently. Many of us had been raised being told one day we would have to dress Islamically. I felt like this like a huge weight on me as a child. I wanted to just be carefree, but in the back of my mind was one day I'd have to wear a headscarf every time I went outside, and to be honest it filled me with dread. It's not easy to do something like that. People talk about how it's expected of Muslim women to dress a certain way, but they never look upon the impact of it, or how that message is conveyed to a young girl who just wants to play and have fun. I mean I am pretty sure little boys aren't even told, oh one day you will have to grow a beard, so remember that. No, I am pretty sure for the most part boys don't have such demands placed on them at such an early age. Some Muslims talk about how non-Muslim girls are sexualised from a young age and wear make up and so on, but we do the same thing in a different way to our little girls. We tell them to dress like a grown woman, to cover herself up so a man won't look at her. What exactly are you covering up on such a young girl? Isn't the issue with men who look at young girls? We need to ask ourselves these questions, instead of ignoring the truth.
Then we come onto the freedom of choosing your own partner to settle down with. Do we really get a choice? I was told it could be anyone, as long as he was Libyan. Great. That's not really a choice. I was looking online, on matrimonial sites. Marriage for me was going to be my way out of home I decided. Even if I had to marry someone of my father's choice, at least I'd be out of the house. I was told definitely no converts, apparently there is a possibility they will leave Islam and go back to their old ways, so I was to avoid them, despite the fact my own mother is English and converted. Hmm. I decided even if I found someone different, I'd get my dad to speak to them regardless. I was the image of perfection when I was looking online. I made it clear to every man I spoke to that my father would be involved from the very beginning as I did not want to go behind his back. I never flirted with anyone and kept it completely business like. I was always told you only ever speak to a man formally, even in regards to marriage. I think I was probably pretty boring back in those days, but I was a good daughter, which was the main point right? I don't think any of that even mattered, despite being a 'good' girl, I was constantly getting told off for something or the other at home. I always scrutinised myself. What was wrong with me? Why was I getting told off? I must be a bad person, I decided. Obviously I wasn't respecting my parents as I should even though I couldn't find out what exactly I was doing to anger my father. Well my mum always seemed pretty happy with me. We got on very well and my mum knew everything about me pretty much. It was only recently I started to keep things from her as I didn't want to shame anyone in my family. I didn't want to tell them I was in a relationship with a man who isn't in our religion. I never thought it would come to that, but to me he is nicer than any Muslim man has ever been to me. I felt like I wasn't treated any better than dirt by some I came across online. They never seemed happy with me. I wasn't good looking, a few told me. Even my own grandmother said I wasn't pretty, so it must be true. I grew up hearing my brothers were handsome, one of them was charming, but no words about me. I avoided mirrors for a lot of my teen years and beyond. I was so ugly I didn't even want to look at myself. My eyes were too big, my skin is scarred from acne. I have fat cheeks and just overall not a nice looking face. Other people telling me I didn't look good just cemented what I already thought about myself in my mind. If other people can see my ugliness then it must be true.
I am now living in a women's refuge, and I have been for two months now. I plan on writing about life in here but I won't use real locations or real names to protect the ladies here and keep the location a secret.