I remember when I started to feel uncomfortable with my body: I was 11 and suddenly became very aware that there was a “right” one and a “wrong” one. I wasn't sure where I fit in, and even though I was probably completely average or normal, I couldn't see that then through my preteen haze. This is common for many girls that age, but for me it was compounded because when I turned 12, I started to wear the hijab, and became even more uncomfortable in my own skin.

There were days that I was too anxious to leave home because the idea of people staring at me was too much to think about. I still have bad days, but for the most part my hijab is now intrinsic to my identity. For some Muslim women, however, the external impacts of wearing a veil become too much for their mental health. Amidst a growing climate of Islamophobia, many Muslim women who wear a headscarf are choosing to remove their veil. Even though many Muslim women, including myself, still wholeheartedly embrace and wear the hijab with joy and pride, others are voluntarily choosing to remove it due to external pressures. Debra Schubert, for example, who lives in Quebec, chose to stop wearing a hijab after feeling physically unsafe on multiple occasions. "One time when I was living in Montreal, a man followed me into my apartment and yelled at me that I was living in Canada and didn’t need to dress like this," says Debra. Her decision was as much for her mental health as it was out of fear that harm might come to her.

After the attacks in Paris, Debra says she experienced an immediate increase in hostility from people around her. "People started to look at me funny, and I could sense their reactions when they saw me." But when Debra removed the hijab, she saw immediate change in how people treated her. "The day I stopped wearing a hijab, I went to my university and someone held the door opened for me and told me that I smelled nice. I realized that was the first time in a long time a stranger had given me a compliment. I went into the bathroom and started to cry.”

For Brooke Vanbuskirk, 26, a New York native, wearing a hijab made even simple tasks like grocery shopping and going out for lunch a political statement. "I felt like I was constantly on the defense, and emotionally drained because of it. My internal dialogue was very negative and anxious and borderline paranoid,” says Brooke. The negativity became so severe that Brooke deactivated all social media to get away from the anti-hijab rhetoric that she felt was most prevalent online. And after nine years of wearing the hijab, she decided to remove it entirely. For Brooke, her decision wasn’t tied to a world event but as a result of the constant negativity surrounding Muslims in the media. "I guess I was waiting for my resolve to return to me, as if the mental health issues were a phase that would pass. But the anxiety and negativity didn’t go away.”

Once she removed her hijab, she says, "I felt 'innocent' of the political issues plaguing this country, I felt none of the accountability I usually shoulder. I felt like I shed all of the stereotypes in one act of removing the hijab."

The recent spotlight placed on Islam and the hijab creates curiosity, and sometimes even well-meaning strangers can trigger anxiety with questions. The constant narrative in media and public discourse is that the hijab symbolizes submissiveness and often makes Muslim women appear voiceless. Entire panels discussing the hijab often have no Muslim women who wear the hijab on them. This is a problem as it leaves out the only real voice in this debate that actually matters, and prevents meaningful rhetoric on the topic . Muslim women shouldn't feel compelled to remove a part of their identity to appease others who don't understand their religion or culture. The hijab also shouldn't be viewed as a form of oppression, or control.