by Emmy
A young girl ran by, unhindered by her pink hijab and abaya. She happily played at the park with her sisters, swinging on monkey bars and sliding down the slide. Her female relative, in niqab, chatted with me as we pushed our babies in the swings.
As we drove home, my mom commented how sad it is that those women were wearing their religious garments, suggesting that they were constrained rather than empowered. “We don’t know the whole situation,” I murmur, declining to comment further.
A few days before my mom had confronted me about wearing garments, after she had noticed that when my son pulled down my shirt I wasn’t wearing them, and then while exercising my shorts were too short. What my mom didn’t know is that I had been struggling with postpartum depression and breastfeeding. I had come to the conclusion that wearing garments just wasn’t working with me right now, and I had decided to stop wearing them. It was a freeing decision and immensely helped with both the depression and nursing my son.
All my mom saw was that I was no longer wearing my garments and testified to me that there was spiritual power in them. She saw my choice as a departure from my covenants, unaware of the deeper context of my struggle. The irony was not lost on me: while she criticized the women in the park for their attire—assuming a lack of personal freedom—she simultaneously judged me for not adhering to my own tradition’s instructions regarding religious clothing. It was a stark reminder of how complex wearing our temple garments is.
I admire the women who wear hijab as an outward sign of their faith and devotion to their God. Perhaps it would be better if we too would show our devotion to our covenants with an outside garment. I don’t know what the solution to garments is, because in all reality, that solution would be different for everyone. The truth is, the significance of wearing garments varies greatly from person to person, shaped by individual experiences and spiritual journeys. Some find empowerment and identity in their symbol, while others may encounter barriers that make the practice difficult.
For now, I find solace in a different symbol of commitment–my wedding ring. To me, it is not just a piece of jewelry but a tangible reminder of the sacred covenant between my husband and me. It represents a personal commitment to live by the values we hold dear, a different but deeply meaningful reminder of my spiritual goals.
The infamous Instagram post by Sister Anette Dennis highlights the current problems we have as members of the church in discussing the unique views we all have. In navigating these personal and spiritual choices regarding garments, it is crucial to recognize the diverse ways in which individuals find and express their devotion. Understanding that each person’s journey is unique allows us to approach these discussions with empathy and respect.
Emmy is a new mother from Wisconsin. She’s learning to navigate the complex world of motherhood and her faith, all while learning who she really is.
Image: Seated Woman Weeping in front of Flowers
Anonymous, French, 18th century
6 Responses
Yes, agreed, I see muslin women waring their garments for their spiritual practice like any other religious choice people in a free society can make. I choose not to ware garments because I don’t want too. Putting pressure on someone else to do or not do a religious practice goes against the grain of freedom especially religious freedom. I tell people who wish to control others and say things like this is a Christian country, NO, this is a freedom of religion country to practice what is personal choice or not. I’m sure no Christian would want someone else’s religion forced on them, Baptist or Buddha or Hindu. This is the essence of being a free person and a free American. If I want to be free then I must let others make their own mistakes and choose their own way. Even if we are related. No one said it was easy.
In the 20+ years since 9/11 and us going to war in Iraq and Afghanistan, there’s been a big/vocal movement among Westerners (usually code for white and Christian) to “save” Muslim women from being forced to wear “oppressive” religious garments like you mention in this article. And Muslim women have spoken out about how they are wearing these articles by their own choice and by being told they can’t wear the garments, or shouldn’t because it’s a symbol of their oppressions, these Westerners (Laura Bush and Emmanuel Macron are two that come to mind–in fact, France has laws about wearing hijabs in public–but there are many others) are doing the same thing they are accusing Muslim men of doing: controlling women. Simply adhering to religious rules is not the problem. Forcing, through laws/coercion/social pressure, any sort of adherence to religious rules is a problem, no matter who is doing it. (I’ve tried to find better ways to word this, but honestly, I’m stunned by the writer’s mother’s complete disconnect between the exact same thing and I keep stumbling over my words. And it’s making me wonder how many times I have done or said something on the same spectrum because for the longest time I knew Mormonism to be right so everything we did was right so what is the problem? Deep sigh for younger me. I hope current me is learning.)
If the coercion that the Taliban uses is wrong, then what about the coercion that Mormon leaders and Mormon society user? I certainly did not feel that I had a free choice to stop wearing garments. When your believing husband demands as proof that you love him, then it is not a free choice. When your social group gossips and judges, when your eternal salvation is at stake, when family members judge and gossip, cry and shame you, it is not a free choice. Yes, I know the degree of force is different, but then the rules of wear are also different between all the time and out in public, and difference between outerwear and underwear is different. But all that just means that being forced will have different effects on people. Personally, I would have rather worn a burqa, because it would not have felt so intimate.
I think you are so right that these choices to wear or not wear religious clothing are private, and individuals should have full ability to make those choices. Laws that prevent women from wearing the hijab are seriously misguided, in my view. They force Muslim women to retreat from society, school, professions that they would otherwise feel comfortable entering. What I would like for LDS women is more of an opportunity to wear or not wear garments without feeling like their eternal future is on the line if they choose to not wear them.
I have been fortunate in that I have never had an issue with wearing garments. My mother wore them ; I expected to wear them. I’m not a fashionista, jeans and t-shirts for me. But as symbols go, I’d give up my garments over my wedding ring in a New York minute!! I’ve had to take it off for medical tests and surgery, and I feel naked without it. So much more symbolism in that ring!
I had a similar conversation with my mom. A picture in an article was in the counter of Iran now vs 1970s Iran. How sad it was that they couldn’t choose. Etc. but then a minute or two later commenting on how sad it is that women aren’t wearing garments anymore as they should. It should be noted at the time that I was wearing garment covering clothing but not garments. I am sure she noticed. The irony was not lost on me. It was on her.