I chose to be a Muslim when I was 14. Soon after I realized I would need more than just a silent declaration to truly live my faith. My gypsy upbringing and mixed race background created a chameleon, letting me blend seamlessly into each new community and culture as one of the crowd. But being held only to the least common denominator of morality wasn't going to help me "be" Muslim. I needed to have the luxury of flying beneath the radar taken away from me. I needed a banner and a reminder of my convictions. I needed to wear hijab .

It's been 12 years now and my hijab is still with me. That is a long time for what is often a phase for Muslim girls. The trend that my decision seemed to cusp has petered out for most of my peers. It is a hard choice to live with, and I don’t judge my friends that have left their hijab. For me though, it is still important to be hijabified, even at the price I pay in grief from non-Muslims, and more painfully, from Muslims as well.

You see, despite the fact that I fall under the label of hijabi and am hopelessly removed from the norm of non-Muslims – one can never be too covered. There is a fixation in some quarters of the Muslim community on how “their women” dress that borders on obsessive. It is as if nothing else is important in a woman’s faith than how they appear in public. The true gauge a Muslim woman’s goodness is in the length, fit and extent of her clothing. And that status is public domain. If you don’t fit the bill, you’re in for trouble. Everything else – those superficial things like constancy, sincerity, honesty, generosity, charity, mercy, and devotion – are unimportant.

But sarcasm aside, it is not as simple as that. What hijab entails is often in the eye of the beholder. The Quran’s reference to covering talks only about ‘drawing veils around all except that which is apparent, so that the believing women should be recognized and not harassed.’ Hadith, on the other hand, is a little more specific, with the Prophet (peace be upon him) urging a believing woman to cover all but the face and hands when in front of non-Mahram men. Still debate remains, and even if what hijab entailed was written in stone and extremely exact, implementation of hijab, like all other matters of faith, is a personal decision.

Just as some men may grow a beard to their belly buttons while others will be content with a goatee in an attempt to meet the Sunnah of being bearded, hijab too follows personal interpretation. Some say you need to veil everything but the eyes and shouldn’t be able to guess the wearer’s weight to within ten pounds. Others draw the line at face and hands. More ventilation-loving groups allow for the feet to get some air. For some women their hijab is a symbolic bandanna, hat or scarf around the shoulders. Others still call it a state of mind and way one carries themselves and has nothing to do with an actual article of clothing. Throw in preferences for the tightness, looseness and opacity of the various articles of clothing a woman may consider her ‘hijab’ and you can see how complicated a simple concept can get.

And in the mix – smack dab in the middle - there are those like me for whom hijab is both a piece of cloth and a symbol, its specifics, however differing in each society I move through. When I was in Pakistan, I wore full-sleeved shalwar kameez and an opaque dupatta over my hair indoors and the burqa when out. When I was in the Gulf, I initially wore the abaya but stopped when I realized it only communicated that I was Arab (which I am not) and not necessarily of a ‘religious’ bent (which I am). A head-scarf paired long skirts and blouses seemed the better fit there. And now that I’m in the non-Muslim West, my hijab has evolved again. Remember, my goal as a ‘hijabi’ is to remind myself of my conviction to be a Muslim, to announce my moral standard to others and through that protect myself from temptation and the pitfalls of vanity. Here I find I can do that in a pair of straight-leg jeans, some artfully layered shirts and occasionally a fedora on my hijab. Hey, no one said hijab had to be boring.

To each his own. I don’t dare suggest that my way is the best way. I only know that so far, it works for me. Mine is a constant state of evaluation, decision and evolution, and sure I make mistakes. My hope however, is that if I keep on praying for guidance and staying honest, then I will keep drawing near to my goal - to represent my faith and be the best Muslim I can be.

And yet, my continual statement of "I’m imperfect, but I’m trying" isn’t good enough for everyone. Somehow I need to be lectured, harangued, and browbeaten into more fabric. And I’m not being over-dramatic when I describe it that way. I can take a polite suggestion or a well intended talk. But what I get often extends into the realm of verbal attack where forgotten is a more important tenant of our faith - Muslims believe that God will judge us by our intentions. I can be cloaked so much that even the most conservative types are satisfied, but have no desire to please my Creator through that action. Is that considered then a meritable act? Should I be satisfied with looking the part but being rotten on the inside? And yet I can look like a painted harlot to some, but having got even that far through an intense struggle to please my Lord. Should I be written off for not being good enough?

And again, I have to wonder, what good are the critics hoping to accomplish? Practice needs to stem from taqwa – love and fear of our Creator. If I lack the taqwa to up my practice, I don’t think yelling at me is going to help. Only prayer, dhikr, fasting and reading the Quran is likely to improve me. And I would rather be kindly urged to do more of those things than be told simply that if I’m going to wear jeans I might as well take my hijab off.

Because if, at the end of the scolding, I do swap my jeans for a long skirt and my t-shirt for a tunic, then I probably did it just to quiet the critic. Not to please my Lord. And practice for the approval of my fellow man, instead of my God, makes one a hypocrite. Not a better Muslim. Which was the supposed goal all along.