Author's note: It's a law of physics that "every action has a reaction." But the reaction I got was not what I expected.

"Oh, look at her; what the hell does she think she’s wearing?!"

"Impolite!"

"What a shame!"

"Why would her parents let her go out looking like that?"

This is what I heard when I returned to Gaza after a year as an exchange student in a U.S. high school.

I recall my last day in the United States as if it were yesterday, a day of mixed feelings. My mother called to check on me, and she said something that struck me: She told me to make sure to cover my hair [with the Muslim headscarf called a hijab] when I returned home. Spending 10 months in liberal America had made me forget about the conservative mentality of my home country, including its restrictions on women's clothing and behavior.

I knew what would happen if I did not comply with the standards. Nevertheless, I decided to protest this injustice by shaving my head during my last few hours in America. (Well, I left some hair on the left side, in a shortened cut; I didn’t want to go totally without one of my defining features.) I went to the hairdresser, and although it was hard to see my precious hair shaved off, my determination to take a principled stand sustained me. And, I even rather liked the look.

Then the day to return home came. When I landed in Amman, Jordan, the passport-control officers stared at me and eventually sent me to the "interview" room. They asked me some odd questions: "Do you think you changed during your stay in a non-Muslim country?" "Do you pray five times a day?" "What's up with this haircut?" "Why do you look different?" I never expected such a "welcoming" at the gates to my country. But I did not care. I was so excited to see me family again.

My family welcomed me back and it was such a warm reunion. A few hours later, some of my family members finally said something about my haircut. Mum said, “Rahaf, I see your hair is shaved. It doesn’t look that good on you, but this is your choice and I respect it.”

However, while my parents were tolerant, strangers were not as welcoming. I found that out the next day when I went out with my friends. I noticed people giving me nasty looks and making harsh comments because I wasn't wearing the hijab. And I looked “strange.” I just ignored them and focused on having fun with my friends.

I continued to be the butt of harsh remarks in the days after going out with my friends. Strangers told me I would go to hell for the way I looked and dressed. It was a harsh, reverse culture shock. I sank into a deep state of depression and I no longer had the desire to leave my house. Going out was dangerous for my mental and physical health. My mum told me she understood my point but thought the best thing for me to do was to wear the head scarf.

I finally agreed to wear a head scarf to be accepted into my culture. I’ve been asked if I regret my decision to shave my head, and I respond: “I would shave my head again, and again and again.” Although I found the reaction to be tough, I feel like I at least tried in my own small way to change the mentality of the people. It was a failed attempt, but I am glad I attempted the protest nonetheless.

Someday, in Gaza, I believe women will be more free one day to wear what they want. But first we must educate all women in the Strip about their natural rights. As the saying goes, “A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.”

Posted October 10, 2016