Hijabi Style: The Surprisingly Average Life Of A Teenage Muslim Girl

One And The Same

The word, "love", is one that is often abused. Its meaning is incredibly simplified to the point where people use it to describe everything.

I, on the other hand, still think of love as a special thing, one that shouldn't be taken for granted. So when the former guy of my dreams claimed to love me, it kind of forced me to put things into perspective.

Don't get me wrong, I was delighted to find out that he'd crushed on me for so long, and that he wanted to protect me. But love? I had no idea what that kind of love even was, or what it entailed. It all just seemed too soon. And what would Abba say?

"Look, Major. I'm Muslim."

"I know. I don't care. It's a part of who you are."

"No," I sigh. "I mean that these matters are taken very seriously. I'm not even sure I can date, let alone love a boy."

His face was expressionless. "Oh."

Wait, was that it? Though, it was probably for the best. My religion is more important to me than any boy, even Major. I couldn't give him the typical relationship anyway.

I wouldn't kiss him, or hug him, and would have to be really careful about touching him. Who was I kidding? Halal relationships were near impossible with one who didn't understand Islam. And even if Major did, I'm sure that Abba would never allow such a thing.

"Yeah." I respond.

"Yasmeen?"

"Yes?"

"What are you thinking?" he asks.

"That maybe we're not sure what love is. And that maybe it's best if we don't." I say, lowering my gaze and staring at the linoleum tiles.

"I know what love is." he says to me, firmly. "And I know what I have to do."

Major gets up off the floor and walks away from me as I get up too. I'm left in the empty hallway, with a strange feeling in my gut.

I make my way back towards art class, as the final bell rings, signaling the end of the day. I see Tessa coming out of a history classroom.

"Oh, thank God," I breathe. "Tessa!" I could really use someone to talk to.

"Hey, what's wrong?" she asks as we walk towards each other.

"So uh, Major loves me." I blurt.

"Holy shit," she says as her eyes widen. "Wait, that's good, isn't it?"

"No! I don't love him!" I exclaim rather loudly.

"Dude, you totally do. Come on."

"Crushing is not the same as loving someone!"

"Well in your case, it is. I mean, you are head over heels in love with this guy, but you insist on calling it a crush. They are one and the same, baby."

I don't answer.

"You know I'm right." Tessa teases.

When she put it that way, I realize that she really is right. I want to avoid admitting the truth because I have absolutely no idea how to handle it. Or maybe...

"Okay, fine. I'm in love with Major."

Tessa squeals with glee.

"But I am not telling him and I am not doing anything about it," I insist.

"Why the hell not?!"

"Because: a. I'm not even sure he knows he loves me. His first time speaking to me was last week! And, b. I can't date! And finally, c. he's not Muslim!"

"Okay, the first thing is kind of understandable," Tessa admits as I nod. "But you don't know if you can't date because you've never asked! And that last thing was a little racist. Er, religion-ist? You know what I mean!"

"The point is, it's the best thing for everyone. So I'm going through with it."

"If that's what you want," Tessa sighs, giving me a hug. "But the less complicated road doesn't necessarily mean it's the best."

That may be true. But less complicated sure as hell meant I couldn't get my hopes up.

And if that was the case, I couldn't get hurt.