My Awkwardness

Awkward Moments in the Masjid are Awkward

I went to the masjid with my family last weekend. You know what that means? It means on the way there I sat in the car for an hour playing Temple Run on my iPod while my dad lectured my mom, my sister, and I about things we already knew. And when we finally got to the masjid we were the only ones there, which made us all question if there was even a khutbah that night. So naturally we all sat in the car for ten minutes waiting for other people to show up.

I always feel out of place in the masjid. Is that bad? I always see all these other girls in abayas and pretty scarves and it’s obvious that they’re all full time hijabis (unlike me) and everyone looks like they know exactly what they’re doing there and finds their seats, and I’m standing there like “Mom! Can I pray now?!” …Maybe that’s an exaggeration (or not).

I feel like it’s really obvious that I don’t know what I’m doing. This may or may not be due to my inherent inability to properly tie a scarf around my head. But at least my hair gets covered (mostly). That’s what counts, right? Apparently not, because every time I leave one of these khutbahs I feel like a terrible person. But I’m pretty sure that’s supposed to happen.

And then on the ride home we were talking about the lecture, and somehow the conversation turned into a fight over which one of us is more pious, and how my sister and I need to stop asking for things “Because starving kids in Africa would die for one tenth of what we have and we should feel very grateful.”

Moral of the story: I can’t have new shoes because the Imam told us not to “live the high life.”

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