My Weekend Back Home

This past weekend I traveled to visit my parents. Normally this is a very stressful time because I am self conscious about how Islam is affecting our relationship. I had a discussion with a friend (may God bless her for her advice), and she told me to be bold and face them head on and not dance around the issues. I decided that I would ask Allah for as much strength as possible in becoming a better Muslim and facing my family. I decided that I would wear hijab the entire time I was in my hometown. Previously I have not been able to wear it out of weakness and fear. I went to lunch with old friends, wore it shopping with my mother, and hiking with my family. I sensed immense dread when I was walking on the boardwalk with my mother, as I spotted from a distance my very self shy and self conscious brother and his friends. My heart sank as I prepared for his rejection, and his embarassment. I decided to call to him first, maybe the pain would be better if experience more quickly, like pulling off a band-aid. As my blonde, blue eyed brother, strode towards me, I braced myself for the terrorist jokes, the ridicule, the scapegoat of his adolescent awareness of anything non traditional, sharply aware of his sister, the Muslim. All six foot two of him captured me up in the strongest, surest hug I have had from him in years. Wordlessly he cradled me, as a younger sibling, proud to embrace his older sister, his older sister, the Muslim.