Converting to any faith is a deeply personal journey, often driven by years of reflection, study, and spiritual awakening. For Muslim converts, this decision is no different. Yet, there is an unfortunate pattern that many female Muslim converts face—the persistent and misguided assumption that their decision was influenced, or even coerced, by their husbands. This question not only undermines the convert’s autonomy but also perpetuates harmful stereotypes about women and Islam.
I became a Muslim on the 22nd of January 2015. Sitting in front of my computer looking at the date, I have the internal realisation that I have been a Muslim for almost a decade – nearly one third of my life. “Alhamdulillah,” I whisper to myself, a beautiful yet powerful Arabic phrase that means “All praise is due to Allah.” It’s an expression of gratitude that has become a part of my daily life.
While I am now an openly unapologetic Muslim convert, I must confess this wasn’t always the case. I spent the first few years of my Muslim life as an undercover agent, so to speak. I prayed in private, struggled to fast during Ramadan, and grappled with integrating my Muslim identity with the person I was before. To the outside world, I appeared to be a happy-go-lucky twenty-something woman. But internally, I was navigating a profound transformation. I call myself an undercover Muslim because this was how I felt. It wasn’t a state secret that I had converted to Islam. My close friends and family knew my identity, but to the world I looked the same. I share these insights because I want to convey that becoming a Muslim isn’t just about adopting a label—it’s about embracing a way of life. The word ‘Islam’ means submission to the will of God. While I accepted this upon my conversion, it wasn’t until I faced significant life challenges, including a cancer diagnosis, that I truly understood what it meant to submit to Allah’s will. Life has a way of testing one’s resolve, and looking back, I’m grateful for every test as it brought me closer to my faith.
Speaking with countless born Muslims and converts over the years, I have come to understand that regardless of how the religion was introduced to you, we all have struggles. There is also a turning point for everyone, regardless of your introduction, where you make the choice for yourself. An active decision to let your faith penetrate deep within your heart and permeate your soul and your life, or to not. I am thankful I chose the first option.
I became a Muslim of my own free will. I walked into this new way of life with my eyes wide open, my heart at peace, and my mind eager to learn more. While I cannot discount the fact that Islam was introduced to me by my now-husband, I want to make a clear distinction—I did not convert for him. My faith journey was, and remains, deeply personal. So personal and so much a part of me that to question otherwise is not only offensive, but diminishes the sincerity of my beliefs.
The question, “Did your husband make you convert?” might seem harmless to some, but it is rooted in outdated assumptions about gender and religion. Islam explicitly teaches that there is no compulsion in religion—faith must be entered into sincerely and willingly. A coerced conversion is not only invalid but meaningless. To ask a woman if her husband forced her to convert implies that she lacks the agency to make significant life decisions independently. It’s a question that reinforces harmful stereotypes about Muslim women and perpetuates a narrative that Muslim men are controlling and oppressive.
This line of questioning also reveals a double standard. Men who convert to Islam are rarely, if ever, asked if their wives made them do it. So why are women subjected to this scrutiny? The assumption reflects a broader societal bias that views women’s religious choices with suspicion and doubt.
In truth, my husband is far from oppressive. He is kind, loyal, and trustworthy, and we live as equal partners. My faith has brought immeasurable joy and meaning to my life. Dressing modestly and praying five times a day empowers me, provides structure, and gives me a sense of purpose. In truth I’ve never felt more liberated or at peace.
Yet, I continue to encounter individuals who are more interested in what I wear on my head and whether my husband is oppressing me than in understanding my faith. Perhaps my light skin and friendly demeanour make people feel comfortable asking inappropriate questions. Whatever the reason, it’s disheartening. These questions, no matter how innocently posed, sting. They suggest that I lack the intellectual capacity to choose this way of life for myself.
Western media often perpetuates the narrative that Muslim women are oppressed. But my experience couldn’t be further from that depiction. Islam has liberated me, empowered me, and enriched my life in countless ways.
So, the next time you meet a female Muslim convert, leave your assumptions and cynicism at the door. Just because you don’t understand someone’s faith or life choices doesn’t give you licence to question their autonomy. Instead, approach them with kindness, care, and respect. Ask them about their journey, their beliefs, and what their faith means to them. After all, their faith is inextricably linked to who they are.
Let’s honour the agency of every individual to choose their spiritual path and engage in meaningful, respectful conversations that foster understanding rather than perpetuate harmful stereotypes.
Top photo source: Supplied