“She remembered who she was, and the game changed.” – Lalah Daliah
Dear Fellow Warrior,
I wrote this piece in April, America’s National Poetry Month, after returning from my first Pilgrimage to Makkah, during Ramadan.
At that moment, I decided to return to wearing the head cover, after precisely two decades.
I wore the hijab in High School and College for three years as shared in this piece. At the end of High School, I wrote a poem to honor the Hijab, called The Gift of Purity. This new piece, after more than two decades, is essentially the Sequel.
I want to once again remind people that the expression of your faith is just another form of authenticity. Every person has a unique and special journey with faith.
This poem speaks to my journey. And I dedicate this to all those still in that challenging search for answers.
I am glad I can continue to keep my Umrah experience alive through my writing and other ways.
You can read about my Umrah experience HERE to gain more context. I have also written about it in The Qualitative Inquisition, HERE.
Here is the poem. Please return in the next few days, after I share it on my new newsletter with a voice recording: Sword Dispatch: The WkQ Letters.
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The Choice of Return: Reclaiming The Crown
I was wearing it in my soul… all these years…
And that’s where it should have began…
not for the world to see me,
But for my heart to feel Him.
Not to erase the woman I was…
The woman I only just started to see… to love…
but to honor the woman I am becoming.
To honor the Warrior I had always been…
Ten of the best nights in the holy lands,
Immersed in the heart of the Ultimate Revolution,
and something changed in me and around me.
I could feel Him in a way I couldn’t feel Him before.
Now He’s everywhere unlike ever before.
I clutched the hand of a stranger…
who became my sister, near the House of God.
I stood shoulder to shoulder in prayer,
Beneath the crescent moon… near the Prophet
alive in his grave.
I shared my prayer rug with another soul
Because her knees and her forehead touched the marble before mine.
We were shielded.
Compassionate.
United.
Radiant.
Seen.
And I…? Man…
I wore that Crown like it had always belonged to me.
Like it had always been waiting
for me to remember….
The wind no longer plays with my hair,
It feels a little different when I wear my Jumkey.
but a softness is growing inside me now.
There is that Surrender beside the Resistance.
A Voice inside telling me…
You are Found. You are not invisible. You are seen.
You are more than enough.
I may have laid down my armor too soon,
but I never forgot.
There is no going back once you’ve touched the House of God,
with your whole hand.
It is real. It is not a legend or a fairy tale.
And it all makes sense.
Five fingers.
Five prayers.
Five pillars.
Five senses.
Once you see the footprints of Prophet Abraham..
Once you inch closer to the stone that fell from Heaven…
Once you chant that powerful duah seven times around the Kaabah
with the entirety of your soul.
Labiak Allahumma Labaik.
I am Here, Oh Allah, I am Here.
And After feeling the softness of Madinah indulge my fragile soul.
after laying my forehead to the marble
and feeling the blessings breathe through me,
how could I return to my Jaahiliyyah.…
and just pretend I had not seen….felt…touched the Ultimate Truth.
There is a world that will not welcome this reawakening.
There is a world that will judge my intentions.
And, there is a world that will hate me…
because I love my Crown.
But I must resist…
Because this is the will of the Divine.
Once again,
the crown returned to my head, chosen.
Not forced, not feared.
Not then. Not now.
I chose it, Again.
To put it on. To take it off. And to Put it on again.
To try Again…
A Choice not every woman is blessed to possess…
A Choice I will never take for granted.
But this time…
I walk in it with resolve..
With a transcendental, unshakable, revolutionary love.
Love for the Truth,
Love for justice,
Love for humanity,
Love for all our differences…
Love for the girl I was,
Love for the woman I’m still becoming.
This Crown is not just a Political Statement.
It is not just the Symbol of Resistance.
It speaks the language of a yearning soul…
A language too often misunderstood.
Already on the path to “Greatness.”
In the direction towards Allah.
This may continue to be a lonely road.
But I cannot retreat…
Not after seeing the truth,
Feeling it pulse in my chest,
longing to be near Allah with every breath.
This is the revolution of the heart.
It is the shahadah beaming from the Crown…
A Catalyst from the heart of the Inward and Outward Revolution.
The hijab is not my silence,
It is my jihad.
It is not my oppression,
it is my intention.
It is not my shame
It is the Gift of Purity.
It is a material that illuminates the Immaterial…
That I am in love with Allah.
That I remember.
That I won’t ever forget again.
So, Let them Cringe. Let them mock.
Let them Bully. Let them Judge.
This is the Choice I have made…
not to hide,
Not to impose, Not to scare,
but to rise…
And I cannot… I will not….
apologize
for the light
that makes others
roll their eyes.
I am not invisible. I am invincible.
Labaik Allahumma Labaik
I am Here. Ya Allah, I am Here.
No… I will not hide… I will not disappear.
Yes, I am still here.
And I will not be erased.
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Thank you so much for reading. Please let me know what you think in the comments!
In Solidarity, Peace, Warmth, and Blessings,
Your Sister, Dr. Elsa, Warrior KQueen
“She wasn’t looking for a Knight. She was looking for a Sword.” – Atticus
Thank you for taking the time to read this. If you find my voice inspiring and necessary, I would appreciate support, as I continue my academic goals, writing dreams, and creative journey. Check out my page here to learn more: https://buymeacoffee.com/drelsatk
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