Livre d'Or

This is a very interesting look at a question which I don't think about much until every few years it eats my head, so thank you. I appreciate the reminder that modesty is about, well, humility, because so often it turns womens' bodies into a battleground.

The last time that happened to me was in Istanbul about two years ago. I was raised Baha'i, though I no longer identify that way, and one of the things that Baha'is use to differentiate themselves from their Islamic roots is that not only do Baha'i women not wear any sort of veil, but Baha'i women may not wear any sort of veil. There are multiple female martyrs in the hagiography I was raised with who were killed for unveiling in 1860s Iran. And so as a child and adolescent in religious education, I was repeatedly told, in so many words, God does not want you ever to do this thing because it will halt the emancipation of women. One year my entire class of girls at Baha'i summer camp signed a pledge, on paper, saying that no matter what the circumstances we would never wear a modesty veil.

And, as I said, I don't identify with that faith anymore, but, well, I promised. I was young, sure, but my twelve-year-old self thought it over and was willing to commit that to paper, and I feel some responsibility to safeguard my twelve-year-old self. My wedding, for instance, was not the level of formality for which a bridal veil might be expected, but I would not have had one if it were.

So there I was in Istanbul, and there was the Blue Mosque, and portions of the Topkapi Palace (the ones which have significant religious artifacts), and if you present as female, you can't go in without something that the guard will accept as a headcovering. I tried tying the hood of my hoodie very tightly, because that is a garment I own anyway and an action I am willing to take under other circumstances, and was told that wasn't good enough; they will give you a scarf at the door if they believe you need one, so I could have taken one of theirs.

The thing is, I don't identify as female either.

What happened was I went away and had a three-day crying fit about the confluence of unavoidable self-presentation with my inability to suck it up and do this thing I had promised not to do and my desire to respect their desire that people who go into these spaces show the proper respect and how what that means in practice is that I don't get to go into these spaces. I know it is my decision, but it still hurt. And it didn't help that when I went off to cry in the bathroom of the Topkapi, which seemed like the least public option, there were several women in there who had, as soon as they were in the ladies' room, removed full burqa for a chance to cool off a bit, and it seemed like the same category error in the opposite direction that I was inadvertently allowed to see that.

The whole thing still smarts, but your post does remind me that modesty in the eyes of others should never, ever trump your own self-respect, which helps me remain firm in the belief that excluding myself from those spaces is the right choice for me. Thank you.

I just wish it didn't ever have to be a choice between modesty in the eyes of others and your own self-respect, I guess. Those things are not inherently dichotomous.