My 6-year old bought a scarf at Indiafest in Memphis. She wanted to cover her head because Faiqa covers her head, and my 6-year old adores Faiqa. I happily agreed to this purchase, not because I am hoping to raise a moderate Muslim, but because I hope someday my daughter understands the benefit of saving parts of herself for those closest to her.
About six months ago, my best friend called me to say “so, I don’t want to make a big deal about this, but if I don’t say anything then it will be a big deal when I see you next, so… I started covering my head.”
I wasn’t exactly surprised because Faiqa, like me, is the type of woman who constantly evaluates who she is, what she believes, and how she manifests that in her daily life. I was, however, intrigued. It’s not my place to try to explain what she believes (and I’m hoping she’ll write about it soon on her own blog), but I will summarize the part that’s relevant here:
Covering her head gives her the power to choose who sees her, and who does not.
Some people are allowed, and some people are not. In Faiqa’s life, the decision about whom she will reveal her hair to is made not by her religion necessarily, but by her alone. I didn’t understand the power of this choice fully until she allowed myself and my family – including my husband – to see her without her head covered.
I was honored by her inclusion, a gift that was only made possible by her exclusion of others.
As a rule, I am loathe to exclude people. I have spent too much of my life standing on the outside of a circle, desperate to get in and wondering why I wasn’t good enough, to ever willfully pass that experience on to someone else. And yet my hesitation to exclude has often hurt the people I love most.
I’ve been guilty of not reserving anything special for my closest friends and family.
I’ve tossed around love and affection so freely that my sincerity becomes suspect.
I’ve used love when like will do and created inner circles so large I couldn’t see the soul mates for the strangers.
Thankfully, I’ve learned in the last couple of years that a little exclusion is OK — more than OK, it is necessary if you want to build relationships that run deeper than acquaintance or buddy. There is a level of loyalty, security, trust, and love that can only be found in small, sacred circles. Building those circles requires setting aside something special for those members, a token of exclusivity that says you’ve risked as much as they have by opening your heart.
But what about the person standing on the outside of the circle?
I still don’t want to hurt anyone. I still want to be the person who sees the outsider and welcomes them as part of a group. I want to ease the pain that has been such a big part of my own life in the past. How do I be a person who is both welcoming and discerning?
The solution, I believe, is two-fold:
1) I need to embrace the concept of layers.
2) I need to trust –and allow– others to find their own inner circles.
Despite the quips to the contrary, life is not made up of two kinds of people – those who are in and those who are out. We are, instead, a mass of concentric circles and Venn diagrams. We have subtle levels of relationships that run the spectrum between fellow man and dearly beloved. We intermix and mingle and can, like Faiqa, make our own individual rules about who we let in where, when, and why. Navigating these layers in a way that offers both access and depth requires both subtlety and maturity, two skills that can only increase with experience and practice.
In other words, it’s complicated, but it can be done.
What do you think? Do you believe in the power of exclusion? Do you balance it with an inclusive spirit?
"I've used love when like will do and created inner circles so large I couldn't see the soul mates for the strangers." Wow, Britt, that is a perfect sentence and sums it all up so succinctly. I'm on the other side of side of this idea. I exclude too many, however, back when I was more moderate in that, I could never really understand why "enthusiastic " people made me mistrustful. I'm not speaking of the obviously fake or boundary busters. I mean people who were perfectly lovely but just wanted to be , in my estimation, too close too quickly. I got the negative impact that personality type had on me but couldn't really put my finger on how it would negatively impact them. They have used love when like will do and that has caused me to back them up and kind of refuse to allow a closer relationship to develop.My wariness, their enthusiasm has cost us both a closer connection. It's hard to discuss this without using really negative sounding idea..like exclusion ..but this was illuminating and I'm gonna be thinking ON it all day.
This is beautiful, thank you so much for sharing!xox
Definitely a beautiful post, and I wish way more moms were teaching their little girls about saving things for those closest to them… Personally, I don't think I'd be able to hide my hair — it's the one thing I feel like I've always got going for me, even when my self-esteem is in the can about my body, or the size of my ass, or my eye that's not quite right, or my teeth, or my chin; my hair always takes my side in that debate.
I'm agreeing with what you're saying here, but I think of it more as a cerebral thing rather than a spirit thing. I don't think of myself as excluding anyone as much as I think of myself as a discerning individual who's first priority is self-preservation. I figure that it's my choice to include whoever I want to include based on my own criteria. If some people who I know don't get included in all aspects of my life, so be it. It's not that I'm unwilling to love, it's that I do it gradually– and as that happens circles of friendship evolve naturally.
Wow Britt. Great post. I am guilty of this in so many ways and shining a light in those areas is so helpful in refocusing and being deliberate with my choices.
I'm very reserved with people in real life and don't let them see or know much about me. There's a guy with whom I have had breakfast once a week for over a year, and he knows less about me than you do by glancing over my last 2-3 blog entries. Of course, there are friends I've had since the early '80s who know me way better than my wife, blog readers, brother, parents, etc. So, I only let a tiny fraction of the folks with whom I share life know much about the "real" me, and I pretty much have to have known them for 20+ years.@the muskrat – now I'm curious to know what I don't know! (and I'm totally just editing your comment to see if this might work for replying to comments.
What an awesome post Britt! I actually come from a legalistic religious background from years ago, yet to hear this viewpoint, from the heart side of things, is so refreshing. It is not just a matter of covering or not covering, or wearing a certain piece of clothing or not, it should be a heart, soul and mind matter and not one of rules. And I love how you brought in the concept of circles of friends or intimacy, if you will. Well done!Bernice
I had the good fortune to interview a young Muslim woman who chose to cover everything except her eyes – even her hands. She was nobody's pawn. She was proud of her decision to keep her body private and to make others see her as a mind, not a body. While some of the traditions in Islamic societies (though many of those traditions are not specifically Islamic, but cultural) surrounding women puzzle and scare me a little, I do think that those same traditions acknowledge something that we have a harder time with – the power of female attractiveness and the depth of male desire.
I have spent my life being inclusionary (not a word, but bear with me) and my Pete is exclusionary. Due to this difference, we have had an impossible time making new friends since moving to FL. I have always tried to find in people the ways that we were alike, and to downplay the ways in which we are different. This has not actually helped me make healthy relationships, and as I look back over my life and my friendships I realize two things. One – I am an enabler, and people who need to hear hard truths, but prefer excuses flock to me. Two – I come across as a liar and a fake when the differences I try to subdue in certain company eventually make themselves obvious. Each time I have met new people since moving here, I eventually introduce them to Pete. He then points out all the ways that they are not like us, and how trying to be friends (rather than acquaintances) will be an exercise in futility. I honestly don't know if I will ever have friends outside my family again, because I just don't think that there are any people in this world who are enough like me and Pete to satisfy his desire for people who are "worth the effort of true friendship."And a side note about the Muslim practice of covering parts of your body, and Faiqa's decision to cover her hair – I get that ( I think). When I was single and unattached, I always wore big baggy clothes because I wanted to feel like any person showing interest in me was interested in my character, not my body. And then once I became attached, I would pull out all my tighter clothes because I wanted my boyfriend to be proud of the girl on his arm. I know it's not exactly the same thing, but it really was about keeping my power, and choosing who was 'allowed' to see my body.
What a beautiful way of seeing this. Thank you.
First, I think this post is great. I think your larger point is well-taken. We should choose carefully how we include others in our intimate and personal lives. And that choice doesn't need to be based on in and out. So. To that end, you say:"I didn't understand the power of this choice fully until she allowed myself and my family – including my husband – to see her without her head covered. I was honored by her inclusion, a gift that was only made possible by her exclusion of others."It has me wondering: What if Faiqa had chosen *not* to include your whole family in that trust? What if she had chosen, like many muslim women do, to not include your husband? Would that power have manifested differently? Would he have felt excluded by her wearing hijab in front of him? Would you both have taken offense to a tacit or potentially subliminal message that there might be a reason for her 'hijabing against' him? I ask this because as a white muslim with a non muslim family, I often (by default) am forced to explain hijab in contexts such as this, where people make different choices than Faiqa did. Let's say she chose to wear it in front of any man other than Tariq, including Jared. Would you have accepted it as her choice because no matter what she wears in front of you both, you will always be her family, her inner circle and in many ways the closest people to her in the world? Or would you see it as an unnecessary barrier and a symbol of dogma? I'm not baiting you. I think what you've described is special and wonderful and perceptive. But it's a nagging question after reading it. I'm wondering. What if one of you had been excluded, and not the other? How would you feel, and how would that change your perspective?
Awesome post and so so true!
I am not exclusionary. As you know. Having felt excluded so often, I am very sensitive to the thought of making others feel excluded. Which has bitten me in the butt with the people whom I cherish the most. As you know. I still have a lot to learn.
I'm not sure I agree with your thoughts on exclusion, but I am definitely on the same boat with you when you are talking about people's choices as being rooted (partially) in their own agency. Of course, no choices can be made in a void, and the decision of covering your head DOES have something to do with religion too, but as long as you do it for yourself and not because of social pressures, it's wonderful.
Layers? Onions have layers……;)
Wow, I'm a thinker and you've really given me something to ponder. The power of exclusion? I suppose the power of exclusion could be a good thing unless it is ego based. Does excluding people give one a sense of power? If it's for self protection until you get to know someone – trust someone – then I could see the benefit. For me, I try to have an inclusive spirit even though I am an introvert.
Four words: I LOVE THIS POST. I am definitely guilty of this: "I've used love when like will do and created inner circles so large I couldn't see the soul mates for the strangers." I've been thinking about it lately, and am trying to be more aware of my words and actions.
This is something I've been practicing more but never had a way to define it. Yes, I am doing this. Thanks for helping me understand exactly what it is I'm doing, and why.I try to include too many people and spread myself too thin if I don't.
It's funny, we've talked about this topic so many times, but I don't think we ever used "the power of exclusion." I just always viewed this aspect of my personality as a reaction to my parents complete lack of exclusion. They love everyone a little and nobody enough… I mean, that's how the child in me feels, of course. The grown up is all blah blah they did the best they could. Reading this post made me feel like my approach is not reactionary or selfish, but, in fact, a very loving act towards not only the people I choose to include, but to the people who aren't necessarily in my inner circle because they aren't wasting their time on someone who *kind of* likes them. Everyone deserves to be held in a little bit higher regard than others. I think the idea of including everyone is one of those things we never think to question because it's always been done.
i'm all about circles and layers.although i must say that when i use the word "love" i truly mean love. i use it a lot daily. i love a picture, i love a joke, i love a haircut, i love an animal, love, love, love. yet i really do love everything i say i do and hope that people don't find that insecure. it is just that love can be on so many levels of intensity. my love of my dog is different than my love of you which is different than my love of my favorite drinking glass. still love in my heart. so i guess i am saying i love sincerely. a lot. and yet i hold back TONS from so many people. took me going to trade shows and meeting a kerjillion people to learn how to not fall in love with them all and to not give all of me. rambling. sorry.anyhow, i would love to know how you reply to earlier commentor (commenter?) kate…
Hello haha narf – this is one of the things I'm not digging about squarespace. This is what I said to Kate via email:"No, I wouldn't have felt excluded. I would have understood that Iwasn't as close to her as her husband. I think Jared would have feltthe same if she had uncovered in front of me and not him. She IScloser to me than him, and to her husband than me."
Wow! What an amazing post. I have never thought along these lines before of who are we excluding in order to be closer to those who are most important to us.I am like you, I want to include everyone. I hate to think people are left out of the circle. This has given me some food for thought about priorities.Very powerful
My favorite part is: I need to embrace the concept of layers.
Don't you think we all somehow are exclusive. I mean, maybe the way we exclude (or include you) isn't as outwardly as Fiaqa's but I feel like I exclude/include based on an intimacy with people in my life. I know I withhold information from those I am not as safe with…Thanks for making me ponder on exclusion.
@JuliaI was thinking the same thing, and almost posted to that effect earlier. I think we all include or exclude people to varying degrees. I mean, I have no problem walking around naked in front of my wife, but I wouldn't do it at the grocery store (general legal, health and safety standards notwithstanding).
This is so gorgeous Britt. It speaks to me so clearly–I hope you know. I think you understand. Actually, it makes me want to cry.