I still remember the exact day I wore my hijab for the very first time. It was a few months short of my 9th birthday, and I could not believe the day had finally arrived when I would wrap my hijab around my head, guard my body with my modest dress, and make my way out the door. I had begged my mother months prior to put it on earlier than the required age for Muslim women, but she refused, telling me to enjoy the seasons of life as they came.

My perception of hijab growing up was nothing beyond the ordinary. It was an obligation I knew I was meant to pursue, but I was not steered by the burden of obligation, rather by the freedom of want that borderlined an unspoken need. I needed my hijab for reasons I had yet to know but would soon come to find along the long walk ahead. The day I wore the hijab, I felt as if I mirrored the euphoric feeling of a knight fashioning their armor. I felt empowered, ready to take on the world. I felt that I had a purpose on this earth, and no thing or person could stop me. I would simply be me.

But, not every day felt as beautiful and picture-perfect as that very first day. In fact, my vision blurred over the years, and my purpose did not seem as clear. The up and downs of growing up and finding my identity as a human being overpowered my thoughts, much of which was not occupied by my hijab. For many years, my hijab was the last thing on my mind. It sat on the back burner, waiting to flourish in my life, but sat there for a little longer before I truly understood the impact and opportunity it would nurture. For now, it played its part as a seed that was laid in the soil, waiting for its roots to sprout. It was watered by the most inspirational woman I know—Lady Zainab, may peace and blessings be upon her.

In those moments where I allowed society to make me feel insignificant for wearing my hijab and for being a woman, it was her life and story that sprouted my undying love for God’s commandment. She embodied all that it means to be a woman: brave, faithful, impactful—all the while adorned in her hijab. It was this very lady that taught me that it is not the hijab that limits my being, but the perpetual stereotypes and accusations pushed at women from our births until our deaths. When I questioned my identity as a Muslim woman due to my lack of understanding and ignorance, she had an answer for all of my questions and doubts.