Call Her Anything You Want
The story of a lasting fragment of my life
We all have that lifelong companion who slowly becomes a part of us, right?
I have one too. Our bond grew strong like an anchor holding a ship, and we got along like a house on fire.
We met in my teenage years, introduced by my parents. I didn’t like her at first because she was incredibly clingy; following me everywhere from school to public places, and even witnessing everything I did.
At times, I felt uncomfortable as she clung to me, making it hard to feel the breeze on my skin. I couldn’t help but see her as a burden.
But it didn’t take long for us to bond. She provided a sense of safety and comfort, like a guardian shielding me from harm. She felt like magic, a source of constant security.
I began taking her everywhere, day and night, and we had a blast together. We spent hours in my room, getting ready and admiring ourselves in the mirror. I adored how she effortlessly managed my hair, ensuring I never had a “bad hair day.” Her skills were spot-on, and I was never disappointed.
Slowly, I no longer felt stuffy because of her, and I could feel the breeze on my skin again, even though she clung to me or wrapped her arms around my shoulder.
In joy and sorrow, she’s always been there for me. It often feels like she’s the only constant friend in my life.
When I grew older and encountered the real world, I started to notice the downsides of our togetherness.
It all started when I decided to take her swimming. We had never swum together since the beginning of our friendship. I was thrilled; it was our first time swimming together.
We headed to the nearby public swimming pool. As I was about to dip my foot in the pool after stretching, a lifeguard blew his whistle and rushed over to me.
“Stop! You can’t bring her here.” Said the guard. “Get rid of her, quick,” he rudely declared, his voice echoing for all the other swimmers to hear.
Confused, I glanced at him and said, “Why? There are no written rules here,”
“That’s just the rule, kid. I’m sorry. Either take her away or maybe you should leave this place,” he concluded, leaving me hanging.
All eyes turned towards us, and I felt a sense of shame.
Feeling uneasy, I asked her to step away for a while. She understood and complied without a single word of protest. Her obedient departure left me with a mix of emotions.
Why can’t I swim with my friend? Why can’t I have her with me?
I couldn’t explain why, but without her, I felt exposed. I continued to swim, managing just fine, but there was an undeniable void. So, after only five minutes, I decided to leave, taking her with me.
We returned home in silence, and my mind buzzed with everything that had just transpired. It made me ponder why such absurd rules exist. Are all swimming pools strict about not letting us bring a friend along? Especially when I realized that my attachment to her was undeniable. Did this mean I couldn’t swim anywhere anymore?
I also faced an issue when joining an international community. After initially bringing her to a meeting, the leader later informed me that I couldn’t continue with them while having my friend along, as some members felt threatened by her.
Well, I knew she was that powerful, but why did people feel threatened? She hadn’t done anything wrong; she just stayed there, not even doing anything. How could they feel as such?
Yet, remarkably, she never seemed sad or disappointed by these events. It was as if she silently accepted them, understanding that such situations would occur, that her presence might annoy others and become a burden to me as her friend.
The pinnacle arrived when I landed an incredible job opportunity with numerous benefits, including the chance to travel worldwide. It felt like a dream job, a potential high point in my life, as I was on the verge of final qualification steps to join the company immediately.
The final interview went smoothly, and I couldn’t wait to join the company. However, my excitement quickly waned as the interviewer said, “We believe you’re perfect for the job, and we want you in this position. But with one condition.” There was a pause. “We need you to leave your friend.”
I was taken aback. This seemed absurd! My friend had nothing to do with my work or accomplishments. Yes, she was my constant companion, but she had no bearing on anything I had achieved.
I tried explaining that my friend wouldn’t interfere with my work, but they were concerned about her presence during international trips, fearing it could make people uncomfortable and harm the company’s image. They said, “If you can’t part with her, we regret to inform you that we can’t accept you for this job.”
Tears welled up in my eyes. My dream job was right in front of me, but I had to let it go, all because of her. No matter how hard I tried to explain, they remained resolute in their refusal.
Their acceptance hinged on my parting ways with my friend.
With weary eyes and a heavy heart, I left the room, bidding farewell to the greatest opportunity I had nearly grasped. I hurried to the bathroom — thankful it was empty — and as soon as I entered, tears burst forth.
My wails ricocheted, and my heart shattered as I had to let go of another dream. And there she was, wrapping her body around me, attempting to offer warmth. But it was hard to accept it at that moment.
For the first time, I was filled with anger toward her. I felt unlucky to have her as a friend. And for the first time, I wished she had never entered my life.
I faced the mirror, looked at her in the reflection, and spoke,
“You are such a disgrace.”
But again, she remained unmoved.
In frustration, I pulled her away and threw her down onto the bathroom floor. She remained passive as if accepting that her presence had made my life worse. She just lay there in silence.
I stood there, a sense of loss and emptiness washing over me, a feeling that always plagued me when she wasn’t near. It was the moment I recognized just how much I needed her in my life. Regret flooded in, and I hurriedly helped her back up. I embraced her tightly, apologizing for tossing her aside.
My mind was still clouded with questions. I couldn’t comprehend why so many people saw her as a threat, a danger, a menace to society. She hardly did anything besides offering me warmth and comfort through her presence.
When I got home, I turned to my mother and told her about what happened that day. Then she confessed that she had a similar story; about a lifelong friend that she couldn’t be separated from, and it struggled her almost every day.
So I asked her, “Why is the world so cruel to us? Can’t we just have one friend who stays with us by our choice?”
Because I thought we lived in a peaceful and accepting society, where we were free to choose what we wanted and who we wanted to have as a lifelong friend, someone who had become a part of ourselves. But it turned out that fear of this “friendship” still existed, even in what I had believed to be the safest of society.
Hearing my mother’s story made me realize her experience was even tougher than mine. There were times when she had to part ways with her friend in public to avoid judgment and bullying. She had to “blend in” to society as if her friend never existed. It created challenges in various aspects of her life until she decided not to part with her anymore. She proudly brought her everywhere, cherishing the safety and comfort she offered.
Her bravery came with its own set of struggles, but my mother managed to navigate them successfully, reaching a place where she’s now happy and maintaining a strong relationship with her friend. She no longer lets others’ opinions bring her or her friend down.
I decided to follow in my mother’s footsteps and chose not to leave my friend behind, no matter what challenges might come with that decision.
I chose to keep her close, embracing her warmest hugs and comforting presence, regardless of what others might think.
She’s not a menace, she’s not a threat. She’s a friend, a lifelong companion who has always been there for me through any circumstances.
Do you know why? Because she’s now a part of me.
Yes, that’s me and my friend, the one who’s been there for me for a long time. The one who envelops my mind with warmth while still giving me room to breathe.
I know, she’s not a living being. And you can call her anything you want, whatever feels right for you:
A veil, a scarf, a useless inanimate object,
An identity, a religious symbol, an icon for Muslim women,
Or, regrettably, a menace, a threat, a scary thing.
But to me, she’s simply my friend. My Hijab.
I’ve been labeled so many times whenever I bring her along, often tagged as a threat. My story reflects how the real world perceives a girl who brings her “best friend” everywhere. They get scared, they feel threatened, and some even proudly express their hatred towards us. Even though we haven’t done anything wrong, we simply want to socialize and be accepted as normal beings, just like everyone else.
Whatever you may label her, still, she’s my friend — a companion I’ll never let go of. And actually, she’s more than just a friend. She’s a manifestation of my profound worship of God. She doesn’t just represent my religion; she has become a part of me. A missing puzzle piece that completes me as a whole person.
And eventually, I found a community of believers who shared similar stories to mine. I also landed a better job that valued me for my worth and skills, regardless of whether she was with me or not. I discovered a welcoming community where diversity was embraced. In the end, it’s all about finding the right people around you who will accept you for who you are.
This world could be a better place if we all embrace diversity as a whole. I believe it is the responsibility of all of us to create a safe environment for everyone.
Those stereotypes exist due to the actions of others, but they don’t represent us as a religion. We oppose violence and harmful actions. And it’s our responsibility to promote goodness and show it.
Because we are not here to bring you fear; we are here to bring you camaraderie.
And my friend is not a threat.
She continues to provide me with warmth, comfort, and safety, whether it’s a sunny daylight or a rainy midnight.
I entrust my weary heart to her embrace, finding contentment and comfort for years to come.
Thank you ADEOLA SHEEHY-ADEKALE for this wonderful prompt. I really put all my heart into this piece ❤
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