What’s your favorite cosmetic’s brand that I should try out next?
Plus Size Spring Style
What’s your favorite cosmetic’s brand that I should try out next?
My Confusion In New York: Week One
This marks week one down as a New Yorker.
I am clearly not one. Yet. Or maybe ever. I’m still on the fence about this whole big move thing. I mean, you never really know if you are actually going to like something until you dive in and then figure out that you absolutely hate it or love that shit. Or eh about it.
Although I don’t necessarily miss Detroit, I don’t want to actually be here as of now. New York is an unfamiliar place. It’s busy and loud and busy and lots of funny smells. By funny smells, I mean shit. It sometimes smells like shit.
When I used to day dream about the big city, I always used to think of it like in the movies. It was very fancy and very Caucasian. Love stories and opportunities and things just seemed quite easy.
That it not the case. It is not as easy as the movies would make it seem. Everything is close but so spaced apart. Most of my friends live in other boroughs that are about 45-minute subway rides away. Although me and my weak knees are semi-capable of trudging down hundreds of cement steps to push through crowds of bodies on the platform, it seems like so much to do just for an hour and a half of social interaction.
I am used to the ease of hopping in my car and driving 15 minutes to unexpectedly drop into my friends’ house and have snacks and talk shit about people we don’t like.
Here is not the same. They have no idea of the people that I don’t like. They don’t know shit about me at all.
Which is a bit isolating. I just want to put my old friends in my fuckin pocket and bring them here. But, they have lives and kids, I guess. And, there’s not much room in my pocket to thrive.
Another thing is that everyone is busy all the time here. That’s what I came for though, so why hadn’t I expected everyone to carry that same dose of grind? Detroit has a very laid-back type atmosphere that I have grown used to. New York does not. It’s a city on steroids. Everyone is on go-go-go mode.
People keep saying that I will get used to it, but will I?
On top of that, I am being semi-kicked out of my new-ish apartment after only being moved in for three whole ass days. I know that one day I will look back on this major inconvenience and laugh about it. As of now, this is no laughing matter. I am pissed. The time that I could be spending looking for jobs to pay rent, I know have to find another place plus find gigs to pay rent.
I am already tired of thinking about it.
And!!! I don’t have the credit score or income to qualify for most rooms. So, there’s that. Welcome to NEW YORK! The land of shady landlords that kick folks out after only a few days of residence.
The last thing that I will complain about and update you on would be that I do not belong. And not in that sense, I do belong in some way or another, but I don’t have a core group of folks that got my back or can shoot my photos or help me do random shit late at night.
I am starting from scratch. Just that sentence made me doze off. I have to start over again building my core people. It took me damn near years to do that in Detroit and now at 31 years old, I gotta do it again. Clearly, I like abuse because NYC is gnawing at my leg right now.
Baby steps, girl, is what I keep telling myself. Because if I don’t, then I will pack a truck with all my shit and dart right back to Detroit. Where it is bland but at least I know people!
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.
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.
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.