I'd like to comment from an islamic lens that modesty (ḥayāʼ) is seen as an inward light, a state of the soul before it’s ever a piece of fabric. It’s not about shame, but about sacredness.
It’s about preserving your inner world, guarding what’s precious, and moving through life with grace, not invisibility.
The nafs (self) is not your enemy. It’s something to know, refine, and gently guide toward beauty. Your body is not a curse. Your curves, your features, they were not designed to make you feel ashamed. They are signs of God’s artistry.
“We have certainly created man in the best of stature.” (Qur’an 95:4)
So when we cover, we’re not hiding, we’re honouring. And honour looks different depending on where you come from. Your outer form is just the garment of your spirit: beautiful, sacred, and specific to you. Your individuality is a divine fingerprint.
Modesty, is a state of heart before it’s ever a state of dress. Like you said it is in how you treat others but is also in how you speak, how you carry your pain, how you resist the urge to perform and instead, just be.
So may you wear what feels like you! With love, with dignity, with joy.
Because your body is not a battleground. It’s not a punishment. It’s not an enemy to silence.
It’s your home. Your vessel. Your inheritance.
And sis, femininity is not in how you dress or how straight your hair is.
It’s not in fitting into some mould of what a “perfect” woman should look like.
I sometimes feel the same way. I see the women who wear the most elegant colourful abayas and cover their hair so gracefully. And here I am, struggling. Letting my curls run wild, wearing jeans, not looking like the picture perfect “Muslim girl.”
And yes, I’ve heard the comments too. The ones meant to shrink you. But I don’t digress because I know where my modesty lives. It lives in my heart. It’s in my intentions, in my words, in how I carry myself through both love and difficulty. It’s in how I treat others, how I speak truth, and how I honour what’s sacred inside me.
Modesty isn’t performance. Its presence.
And it doesn’t always look one way. Because God made us diverse on purpose, in our appearances, cultures, languages, and expressions of faith. What unites us isn’t how we look religious but how we are with the One who created us.
So in your skin, your softness, your fire, your joy, your curls. All of that is still sacred and still so feminine.
“I was also the only black girl. my dark skin , braids or naturally curly hair never seemed to hold flame to the fire that was their femininity.” This feeling is so… ugh. I remember feeling this exact way all through school, growing up in pwis. Underrated how much of an effect it can have!
Have you read scripture to get some perspective on this issue? I do think this broad idea of pointing out immodest dress that doesn't really have any interpretable basis is mostly a cultural or familial concept.
God made man and woman, fashioning Eve from a part of Adam. They were uncovered before each other and without shame. They only understood nakedness after the fall. A lot of people struggle with beauty for one reason or another as something that is good and perfect in God's image, and while it is certainly appropriate to consider the context for which we dress, people aren't meant to be degredaded for having the bodies they were given.
I'd encourage you to read Ezekiel 16, which describes God's history with Israel in romantic and chivalrous terms, in its highs and lows, taking care of it as a woman brought into his presence, lifted up, and made beautiful and given glory. Israel squanders that glory too. It is divine, but it can also be misused.
There are a number of places to get wholistic picture from, but what I'm pointing out is that in God beauty is a sacred gift and is something that can be inspirational, virtuous, and part of His glory. People are beautiful, and there is nothing wrong in seeing that in others. Where an element of Christian character comes in is not allowing beauty, like anything else, to take the place of Christ in one's life or be one's first priority.
Wow! This was so beautifully written. I too have felt this pain being the only black girl in most settings. It wasn't until college where I was able to truly love myself.
That was so beautifully said Ambree..
I'd like to comment from an islamic lens that modesty (ḥayāʼ) is seen as an inward light, a state of the soul before it’s ever a piece of fabric. It’s not about shame, but about sacredness.
It’s about preserving your inner world, guarding what’s precious, and moving through life with grace, not invisibility.
The nafs (self) is not your enemy. It’s something to know, refine, and gently guide toward beauty. Your body is not a curse. Your curves, your features, they were not designed to make you feel ashamed. They are signs of God’s artistry.
“We have certainly created man in the best of stature.” (Qur’an 95:4)
So when we cover, we’re not hiding, we’re honouring. And honour looks different depending on where you come from. Your outer form is just the garment of your spirit: beautiful, sacred, and specific to you. Your individuality is a divine fingerprint.
Modesty, is a state of heart before it’s ever a state of dress. Like you said it is in how you treat others but is also in how you speak, how you carry your pain, how you resist the urge to perform and instead, just be.
So may you wear what feels like you! With love, with dignity, with joy.
Because your body is not a battleground. It’s not a punishment. It’s not an enemy to silence.
It’s your home. Your vessel. Your inheritance.
And sis, femininity is not in how you dress or how straight your hair is.
It’s not in fitting into some mould of what a “perfect” woman should look like.
I sometimes feel the same way. I see the women who wear the most elegant colourful abayas and cover their hair so gracefully. And here I am, struggling. Letting my curls run wild, wearing jeans, not looking like the picture perfect “Muslim girl.”
And yes, I’ve heard the comments too. The ones meant to shrink you. But I don’t digress because I know where my modesty lives. It lives in my heart. It’s in my intentions, in my words, in how I carry myself through both love and difficulty. It’s in how I treat others, how I speak truth, and how I honour what’s sacred inside me.
Modesty isn’t performance. Its presence.
And it doesn’t always look one way. Because God made us diverse on purpose, in our appearances, cultures, languages, and expressions of faith. What unites us isn’t how we look religious but how we are with the One who created us.
So in your skin, your softness, your fire, your joy, your curls. All of that is still sacred and still so feminine.
MashAllah well said 💕
“I was also the only black girl. my dark skin , braids or naturally curly hair never seemed to hold flame to the fire that was their femininity.” This feeling is so… ugh. I remember feeling this exact way all through school, growing up in pwis. Underrated how much of an effect it can have!
Hi Ambree,
Have you read scripture to get some perspective on this issue? I do think this broad idea of pointing out immodest dress that doesn't really have any interpretable basis is mostly a cultural or familial concept.
God made man and woman, fashioning Eve from a part of Adam. They were uncovered before each other and without shame. They only understood nakedness after the fall. A lot of people struggle with beauty for one reason or another as something that is good and perfect in God's image, and while it is certainly appropriate to consider the context for which we dress, people aren't meant to be degredaded for having the bodies they were given.
I'd encourage you to read Ezekiel 16, which describes God's history with Israel in romantic and chivalrous terms, in its highs and lows, taking care of it as a woman brought into his presence, lifted up, and made beautiful and given glory. Israel squanders that glory too. It is divine, but it can also be misused.
There are a number of places to get wholistic picture from, but what I'm pointing out is that in God beauty is a sacred gift and is something that can be inspirational, virtuous, and part of His glory. People are beautiful, and there is nothing wrong in seeing that in others. Where an element of Christian character comes in is not allowing beauty, like anything else, to take the place of Christ in one's life or be one's first priority.
“i felt alienated in a place where i was supposed to feel safe.” So beautifully said!!
Wow! This was so beautifully written. I too have felt this pain being the only black girl in most settings. It wasn't until college where I was able to truly love myself.