She’s sitting across from you at a coffee shop. She looks happy. She’s laughing, telling stories, living her life. But if you look closer—really look—you’ll see something in her eyes. A heaviness. A regret she’s trying to hide.
Five years ago, she wore hijab. She was known as “the hijabi girl” at school. People respected her for it, even if they didn’t understand it. But the pressure got too much. The stares. The questions. The feeling of being different. The constant explaining. The summer heat. The job interviews where she felt judged before she even spoke.
So she took it off. She told herself it was temporary. Just until she figured things out. Just until life got easier. Just until she was stronger.
But “temporary” became permanent. And the freedom she expected? It never came. Instead, she got something she didn’t expect: years of regret that she carries every single day.
This is what she wishes she could tell every hijabi who’s struggling. Every girl who’s considering taking it off. Every sister who thinks removing hijab will solve her problems.
It won’t.
The Moment She Took It Off
The first time you take off hijab in public—after years of wearing it—feels surreal.
You walk outside with your hair out. You expect to feel free. Liberated. Like a weight has been lifted. And for about few minutes, maybe you do.
But then you see someone from the Muslim community. Someone who knew you with hijab. And the shame hits you. Not from them—they might not even say anything. The shame comes from within. Because your fitrah (natural disposition) knows you just abandoned something Allah ﷻ commanded.
The first week feels weird. You’re hyper-aware of your hair. Every breeze. Every glance. You thought you’d blend in, but you don’t—you just traded one form of visibility for another.
The first month feels liberating. You tell yourself you made the right choice. People treat you “normally” now. You’re not “the hijabi” anymore. You’re just… you. And that feels good. For a while.
The first year feels empty. Something’s missing. You can’t quite name it. But there’s a distance between you and Allah ﷻ that wasn’t there before. Prayers feel hollow. Ramadan doesn’t hit the same. You’ve lost something, and you’re starting to realize it wasn’t just a piece of cloth.
What She Thought Would Happen vs. What Actually Happened
Here’s what most women expect when they remove hijab:
What she thought: “I’ll finally be free from judgment.”
What actually happened: The judgment didn’t stop. It just changed. Now Muslims judged her for taking it off. Non-Muslims still saw her as “that Muslim girl” even without hijab. And worst of all—she started judging herself.
What she thought: “I’ll fit in and life will be easier.”
What actually happened: She didn’t fit in. Because you can’t find belonging by abandoning your identity. She was still Muslim. Still different in a hundred other ways. Removing hijab didn’t erase that.
What she thought: “It’s just a piece of cloth. My faith is in my heart.”
What actually happened: It wasn’t just cloth. Hijab was her visible commitment to Allah ﷻ. Removing it was like removing a spiritual shield. Sins became easier. Boundaries became blurry. Her “faith in her heart” started weakening because faith without action dies slowly.
What she thought: “Allah ﷻ will understand. He’s merciful.”
What actually happened: Yes, Allah ﷻ is merciful. But his mercy doesn’t mean His commands are optional. She confused mercy with permission. And every day she looked in the mirror, she felt that confusion turn into guilt.
The Relationships That Changed
One of the most painful consequences is how relationships shift:
Her family: They don’t say much. But the disappointment is there. In their eyes. In their silence. In the way they used to talk about her with pride and now just… don’t.
Her hijabi friends: Some stayed. Most drifted away. Not out of judgment necessarily—but because she represented something they feared. The possibility that they might make the same choice one day.
Her non-hijabi Muslim friends: They celebrated her decision initially. “You’re so brave!” But celebrating someone abandoning an Islamic obligation isn’t real support—it’s enabling.
Non-Muslim friends: They treated her “better” at first. But she realized—that their acceptance was conditional. They liked her more when she looked less Muslim. And that realization hurt more than the rejection ever did.
Her relationship with Allah ﷻ: This is the one that hurt most. When you consciously abandon a command of Allah ﷻ, you create distance. Not because He moved away—but because you did.
What the Quran Says About Hijab
Let’s be clear: hijab isn’t cultural. It’s not optional. It’s not a “personal choice” in the sense that you can decide whether or not to follow it. It’s a command from Allah ﷻ.
Allah ﷻ says in the Quran:
[Surah An-Nur, Ayah 31]
“And tell the believing women to reduce [some] of their vision and guard their private parts and not expose their adornment except that which [necessarily] appears thereof and to wrap [a portion of] their headcovers over their chests…”
And in another verse:
[Surah Al-Ahzab, Ayah 59]
“O Prophet, tell your wives and your daughters and the women of the believers to bring down over themselves [part] of their outer garments. That is more suitable that they will be known and not be abused.”
These aren’t suggestions. They’re divine commands. And when you remove hijab, you’re not just changing your fashion—you’re saying with your actions: “I don’t accept this command.”
That’s between you and Allah ﷻ. But don’t pretend it’s not serious. Don’t tell yourself “Allah knows my heart” while your actions contradict His clear instruction.
The Pressure Nobody Talks About
Here’s what pushes women to remove hijab:
Workplace discrimination: Real or perceived. Thinking you’ll never get the job. Believing hijab is holding you back professionally. Rizq (provision) is from Allah ﷻ. If a company won’t hire you because of hijab, that job wasn’t meant for you anyway.
Dating and marriage concerns: Thinking non-hijab will expand your options. But the kind of man who prefers you without hijab isn’t the kind of man you want to marry anyway.
Family pressure: This is particularly painful. When your own parents—who should be supporting your hijab—pressure you to take it off for cultural reasons, job prospects, or marriage. According to Islamic scholars at IslamQA, you don’t obey parents when they command you to disobey Allah ﷻ.
Mental health struggles: Feeling like hijab is adding to your anxiety, depression, or identity crisis. Mental health is real and valid. But the solution isn’t removing your obligation—it’s getting proper support while maintaining what Allah ﷻ commanded.
Wanting to “fit in”: The deepest, most honest reason for many. Tired of being different. Tired of explaining. Tired of standing out. This is the same test prophets faced. Being different for Allah ﷻ has always been hard. But it’s always been worth it.
What She Wants You to Know
If she could go back and talk to her younger self—the girl who was about to take off hijab—here’s what she’d say:
“That temporary relief isn’t worth the permanent regret.”
Whatever problem you think removing hijab will solve—it won’t. You’ll just trade one set of struggles for another. And the new struggles come with guilt, distance from Allah ﷻ, and spiritual emptiness.
“The people who want you to take it off don’t have your best interests at heart.”
Whether it’s friends, family, or society—anyone encouraging you to abandon an Islamic obligation doesn’t love you for the right reasons. Real love wants what’s best for your akhirah, not just your dunya.
“Your hijab is your protection, not your prison.”
It feels like a restriction right now. But Allah ﷻ doesn’t command things to burden you—He commands them to protect you. From unwanted attention. From objectification. From losing yourself trying to please people.
“You’ll regret it even if life gets easier.”
Even if removing hijab solves every practical problem—better job, more acceptance, easier relationships—you’ll still feel the emptiness. Because no amount of dunya success can replace the peace of obeying Allah ﷻ.
“Putting it back on is harder than keeping it on.”
If you take it off, you might think “I’ll put it back on later.” But according to experiences shared by Muslim women, going back is exponentially harder. The longer you’re without it, the more difficult the return becomes. Don’t make it harder for yourself.
To Every Girl Struggling Right Now
If you’re reading this and you’re considering removing your hijab, please listen:
Your struggle is real. Nobody’s dismissing it. Wearing hijab in a non-Muslim society is hard. It’s a test. It’s jihad (struggle in the path of Allah). And Allah ﷻ sees every moment you choose Him over comfort.
But temporary difficulty is better than eternal regret. This life is short. The test won’t last forever. But your choice will have consequences that extend into eternity.
Find support. Connect with other hijabis who understand. Join Islamic groups. Find mentors. Don’t struggle alone. Ummah means you don’t fight battles by yourself.
Strengthen your relationship with Allah ﷻ. The reason hijab feels like a burden is usually because your connection to Allah ﷻ is weak. When you love Allah ﷻ deeply, obeying Him—even when it’s hard—becomes something you want to do, not something you’re forced to do.
Make dua constantly. “Ya Allah, make hijab easy for me. Make me love what You love. Give me strength to obey You when everyone else is pressuring me to disobey.” Sincere dua changes everything.
If You’ve Already Taken It Off
If you’re reading this and you’ve already removed hijab—whether recently or years ago—it’s not too late.
Repent sincerely. Acknowledge it was wrong. Feel genuine remorse. Commit to fixing it. Allah ﷻ accepts repentance no matter how long you’ve been away.
Put it back on. Don’t wait for the “perfect time” or until you “feel ready.” Put it back on now. The feelings will follow the action.
Ignore the judgment. People will have opinions. Muslims will say “finally.” Non-Muslims might be confused. Ignore all of it. This is between you and Allah ﷻ.
Seek support. Find sisters who will celebrate your return. Join communities that uplift you. Distance yourself from people who encouraged you to take it off.
Be patient with yourself. You might struggle. You might have moments of doubt. That’s normal. Keep going. Every day you wear hijab after returning is a victory.
The Hijab That Saved Her
There’s another story—about a girl who almost took off her hijab but didn’t.
She was at her lowest point. Job rejection. Family pressure. Social isolation. She had the scarf in her hands, ready to remove it permanently.
But she made one dua: “Ya Allah, if You want me to keep this hijab, give me a sign. Make it easy. Help me.”
She kept it on. One more day. Then another. Then another.
Years later, she’s married to a righteous man who loves her partly because her hijab demonstrated her strength of faith. She has a job at a company that respects her values. She’s surrounded by a community that uplifts her.
But most importantly—according to her own testimony—she has peace. The kind of peace that only comes from knowing you chose Allah ﷻ over everything else, even when it was the hardest choice of your life.
That could be your story. Or it could be the first story—the one filled with regret.
The choice is yours. But choose carefully. Because once you take it off, putting it back on—and living with the in-between—is one of the hardest things you’ll ever do.
The Bottom Line
Remember that girl at the coffee shop—the one with regret in her eyes—she’s still trying to find her way back? Some days are easier than others. But she carries the weight of a choice she can’t undo.
She wishes someone had told her: The struggle of keeping hijab on is temporary. The regret of taking it off is permanent.
Don’t be her. Don’t look back five years from now wishing you’d stayed strong. Don’t trade your relationship with Allah ﷻ for temporary acceptance from people who won’t matter in your grave.
Your hijab is your crown. Your protection. Your visible statement that you belong to Allah ﷻ before you belong to any culture, any society, any trend.
Keep it on. Even when it’s hard. Especially when it’s hard. Because that’s when it matters most.
And know that every day you choose Allah ﷻ over comfort, you’re writing a story that will make you proud on Judgment Day instead of devastated.
Allah ﷻ says in the Quran:
[Surah An-Nahl, Ayah 97]
“Whoever does righteousness, whether male or female, while he is a believer—We will surely cause him to live a good life, and We will surely give them their reward [in the Hereafter] according to the best of what they used to do.”
That good life? It comes from obedience, even when obedience is difficult. Hold on to your hijab. And watch Allah ﷻ hold on to you.
Disclaimer: This article is provided for general educational and informational purposes only. While every effort has been made to ensure accuracy in presenting Islamic teachings, readers are strongly advised to consult qualified Islamic scholars in their local area for specific religious rulings, detailed interpretations, and matters requiring expert guidance.