Stranger in a Familiar Land

Aaminah Khan

Aaminah Khan (jaythenerdkid) is a writer, activist and refugee support worker living in North Queensland. She writes about intersectional feminism and her experiences as a queer Muslim on Twitter and at her blog. Her other interests include popular culture, football, fashion and video games. Her mother will probably never stop embarrassing her by bragging about her in front of all of her friends.

My mother is a devout Muslim, and I believe she embodies many of the noblest qualities of a mumin – she is kind, loving, compassionate, forgiving, gracious, and loves Allah with all her heart. She supports me and the rest of her children in all of our endeavours, and although she’s never been particularly thrilled about my bisexuality, she’s never loved me any less because of it. She covers her hair with a hijab and wears only long-sleeved shirts and refuses to make plans without adding insha’Allah at the end.

I, too, am a devout Muslim, but I look nothing like her.

I wear miniskirts and high heels and wear my hair out, sometimes dyed ludicrous colours, sometimes cut short and tousled. I laugh and flirt with boys and girls alike in bars and at concerts, where I refrain from drinking alcohol but party along with my friends until the wee hours of the morning just the same.

I like to think this doesn’t make me any less of a Muslim. I carry my faith with me everywhere. I turn to Allah for guidance when I am lost or sad or afraid. I try to live a life of love and compassion in Allah’s service, to emulate the example of charity, kindness and good deeds set by our Prophet, peace be upon him. In my heart of hearts, I am at peace. I believe my relationship with Allah is a strong one. I feel the influence of the Most Beneficent in every aspect of my life.

Not everyone sees it like this.

When I initially stopped covering my hair, my mother said to me, “People will talk.” She was right. Members of the small Muslim community in my city started to whisper behind my back about how I had changed. When I started wearing shorter skirts, my mother asked me, “Don’t you care what people will say about you?” I told her I didn’t, that I wasn’t interested in the judgements of others, but it did hurt a little to know that people who knew nothing about me except who my parents were had formed opinions of me based on a chance encounter in a shopping centre or a glimpse of me running errands wearing shorts on a hot day. I wanted to walk up to these people, to tell them that I hadn’t changed, that my clothes weren’t indicative of my faith, that Allah was still the central concern of my life, but I knew it would make no difference. They’d branded me an outsider and would never change their minds.

I am a stranger in a familiar land. My views on the need for legal protections for sex workers, my support of the LGBT+ community, my insistence on dressing however I want despite what it makes people say behind my back: all of these things have marked me an outsider. Sometimes I feel as though the only Muslims here who don’t see me as a lesser being are my mother and her husband; even my own brothers and sisters don’t always understand why I feel the need to take the stances I do. Online, I’m subjected to repeated admonitions, both anonymous and otherwise, from people who feel the need to tell me that I’m not a real Muslim, that I’m letting Allah down, even that I’m going to hell.

I’m only human. Those things still hurt sometimes.

But what all those people don’t understand is that it is my faith that drives me to be the person I am. It is my belief in Allah that drives me to want to fight for equality – even equality for women unlike myself. It is the security and comfort of my faith that makes me brave enough to put myself forward, to help the silenced speak out. And whether or not other Muslims choose to believe it, it is my agency as a Muslim woman that makes me feel confident enough to wear my short skirts and bright lipstick. I ask myself: will I let other people decide what I can and cannot do with my own body, or will I make my own decisions in the knowledge that those decisions are between myself, Allah and nobody else? To me, the answer is clear.

It is a lonely life, sometimes. I feel lonely when my mother tells me that people ask her if her eldest daughter is still Muslim. I feel lonely when I say salaam to a fellow Muslim woman on the street and she looks at me in surprise. But my faith is with me always, and that comforts me during those moments, reminds me that my path is my own to tread and that I do not need anyone else’s permission to walk it. I fight for equality and justice in Allah’s name. I like to think that making the world a better place is worth the personal cost. And I know that even when I feel lonely, I am not alone. There are other Muslim feminists online, including queer men and women like myself, who have helped me regain a sense of Muslim fellowship that my experiences with Muslims in my everyday life had all but destroyed. I am incredibly grateful to them and to Allah for bringing them into my life.

I am a Muslim woman and a proud feminist. This path is sometimes lonely, sometimes fraught, sometimes difficult, but I believe it is the right one for me.

*InshaAllah means “God Willing” or “If God wills” in Arabic



  1. Aaminah, what a beautiful and moving piece. You seem to embody the ideal that so many people strive for: to live as your real self in the everyday world with a profound sense of faith and compassion. I was really touched by what you wrote. Thank you.

  2. الحلال بين والحرام بين اما الايمان الذي يتشدق بة البعض ليس ايمان ف الايمان كما ارادة الله ورسولة ما وقر في القلب وصدقة العمل

  3. I respect you in many ways sista! The fact that you are strong in your faith and in your values is prove of your own iman to Allah! You don’t need attire or tradition to testify to that. Though we may not be mainstream in the ways Muslims are these days, I believe Islam was never meant to be just a mainstream religion. It is a way of lie in which you, me and every other individual connects to God differently and connects with other Muslims in their own unique ways. I admire your writing and hope that some day I will have the same eloquent spirit flowing out of me into and into these posts like you do.

  4. بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم
    I hope I can make clear some things and I hope you will at least try to understand this.

    First: you mention that you are “devout Muslim” then you explain what you mean. Surely islamic dress code is not the only thing that makes a person a muslim, but it differs the muslim from the non-muslim, kafir. According to the arabic language, the liar is someone who defies the reality. In other words, if it is today friday and I say “today is monday” I have lied.

    But defiying reality does not only apply to speech, it applies to everything iman, belief contains. So iman is buit upon belief in the heart, speech (like the shahadah) and actions (like the prayer)

    So the hypocrites are liars because they say what they dont believe. The same goes for anyone who does what is not in accordance to reality. Example wearing code that goes against islamic belief etc.

    I hope you get my point. English is not my best language. I can barely make myself understood.

    Second: You mention that you support the LGBT-comunity. Well the big problem in islam is to make something haram halal and the other way around. If I would say that eg. that alcohol is halal, I would say that something made haram explicitly in the Quran by Allah is halal, this is kufr that would take me out of the fold of islam. Why? I’m belieing Allah, because only one can have right. What I’m trying to say is, please refer from falling into this issue. We all make faults, but this world is merely temporary temptation and enjoyment. The life to come is “eternal”. I recommend first and foremost myself, then you to learn this religion.

    Here is a site where one can read more in sha Allah:
    try to read something under tawheed. its is about the oneness of Allah etc.

    I hope this reaches the heart of somebody, so we both may be rewarded on the day of judgment day.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s