There’s an Uneven Bob Underneath My Hijab

Going Rogue

By Amina Ahmed

I never understood why our Elementary school teachers told us never to use the word “hate” for the strong meaning it implied. My sentiments were never weak or dull; I felt them deeply and thoroughly that no modest term could accurately convey. I have always hated with a ferocity that deserved the word.

To be fully transparent with you, my biggest gripe with the notion that “hate is a strong word” is the connection to a history of bigotry and prejudice. I refuse to allow white supremacy to wholly usurp the term, because it is entirely possible to “feel intense or passionate dislike” for something other than a human being for their race or ethnicity; the fact that most of society believes otherwise is more concerning to me than the strong connotation of my vocabulary. . . but I digress.

Sometimes I think the reason why I feel my emotions so deeply and drown in them is because I can. It is the simple freedom of choice that appeals to me. I will take in my emotions passionately and fervently because they are my own to feel as I wish. No outside force can will me to feel differently than how I choose to, and I’ve learned how that is an invaluable gift.

In a world that does not guarantee the ownership of oneself, it is imperative to actively challenge it at every chance we receive. Cut your hair in the middle of the night, send that risky text, get that tattoo you’ve been eyeing. Give beauty and social standards the proverbial middle finger. Going rogue is how we take back ownership of ourselves, it is how we remind ourselves that our wants and desires are real, palpable, and deserving to exist in this world.

So I will speak about how much I hate celery and wet socks. I’ll cut my hair in the middle of the night because I’m tired of maintaining it. I honestly don’t know if I’ll send that risky text, but hey, at least that’ll be my own decision too.