The Dress of Queens
“Something of old forgotten queens
Lurks in the lithe abandon of your walk…”
We have discursively brought ourselves to the same place others have tried to take us. But this is a message to the world that I pray to God I will wear this emblem of my faith until my dying breath. Others have died for it, raised single fists for it, stayed barred at home for it, wept for it when masters stripped it from their heads. I can’t say I’ve done the same, but the least I will do is pin it under my chin and flip one side to the back before I take to my morning.
No matter what people say, it’s not about them. It’s not a judgment on others, a vehicle for political agency, or an expression of internalized oppression. These are words people use when they are on the outside of something looking in. In truth, it has nothing to do with you, for you or about you, and everything to do with a much more Sacred Relationship. You think you know its secret, but that is only whispered to the one who wears it with a sincere heart and an eye towards Unseen things.
Gangsters tattoo teardrops on their faces for every person they’ve killed. Some wear a band of metal around their finger to symbolize constancy and fidelity. Mourning their loved ones, some wear black or white, respectively. Yellow for cheer, black for sobriety, earth tones for calm and pastels for femininity. LV on your bag for success and red on the bottom of your shoes for style. Black is the new black. And so on, a million ways. Every culture has its formulations. Symbols, colors and clothing are means people use to manifest their internal state. Who they are, or who they are trying to be. We manifest every feeling, relationship, status, dimension of our lives on our bodies, consciously or unconsciously.
I wear this not as a claim to any religious rank or spiritual state, but as one seeking and desiring upliftment. I want the mantle of those women who walked this Path before me, with hearts drawn heavenwards and eyes Seeing beyond seeing. Hagar, Asiya, Mary, Khadija, A’isha, Rabia… and many more unknown to history, secret to the world, but recognized in God’s sight.
I wear this for God Alone, in solidarity with my sisters who I am unworthy of, hoping I can be part of their journey and taste a little… just a little of what they’ve tasted.
May God grant us courage and bravery in our spiritual struggles, Ameen.