“Do not paint your nails, your namaz will not be accepted”.
This was the statement I heard growing up continuously from the people around me. For those of you who may not be familiar, offering نماز namāz five times a day is considered a central ritual that guarantees the strong faith of a person. While وضو wuẓū, is the usual lavage before every namaz. An individuals’ wuẓū, is not considered credible if water does not touch the skin surrounding the nails, and namāz cannot be offered without complete wuẓū. Because of this, nail polish is not permitted in conservative Muslim households as the coating of polish does not allow water to reach the nail surface.
I was only allowed to wear nail polish during my periods because those were “unclean” days and women do not fast, touch holy books, or offer namaz during this time of the month. Most muslim women paint their nails only during their periods. Within the community, one can easily guess the days when women menstruate through their polished nails. It is mandatory to take a shower on the 7th day after periods where water should touch every inch of a person’s skin as an act of lustration. My mother would tell me to remove nail polish before the ritual bath so water could depurate my body from head to toe. I would always get anxious about removing the tiniest specks of paint hidden in the skin of cuticles on the 7th day. For even a small piece of paint would be a hindrance in my cleanliness even after ritualistic ablutions. The fear was embedded in my brain since childhood that my namaz would not be accepted if the paint remained on. Sometimes if I see a little dot of color after a shower, it would freak me out and I would remove it and shower again. If I see any colored spot on my toes while showering I would scratch my nails with scissors and ruin the protective layer. The slightest shine of paint in the corner of my toe would lead me to go through the showering process on the same day.
Getting my nails done was the only self-care I had been doing since childhood, bare nails would never make me happy. But I compromised on not wearing them for the rest of the month in my teens. When I entered high school, an idea came into my mind and I started inducing periods every two weeks just to wear nail paint. Mother thought I was suffering from a hormonal disease, so she put me on pills. After that, I tried to induce periods, but my old ways did not work.
When Thoughts Loomed Too Far
Time passed and I entered university where an incident pushed me into the pit of Scrupulosity. It was a conversation between me and my best friend who commented on my nails and said, “You will go to hell for wearing polish”. I answered, “I’ll remove it on the 7th day” and she replied, “what if you come under the bus today on your way back home, then you will go to hell for sure”. I did not have an answer. The comment ruined my mental state. I completed my degree but her remarks never left my mind. I would cry the whole day praying to god, and at night I could not sleep. I started thinking, inadvertently, about this no nail polish restriction on muslim girls in a very negative manner. I tried to pacify my brain by going out, shopping, and reading but those thoughts did not leave me. Instead they became intense and my condition worsened.
My family members called me a blasphemer when I tried to communicate with them. I thought that I was losing my faith. My appetite died, and I started suffering from insomnia. I stopped touching the holy books, just looking at them would make me anxious. It was getting difficult to offer namaz because of these intrusive thoughts. I would re-offer the same prayer a number of times in response to the thoughts. To deal with the anxiety, I took medicines prescribed by a local doctor but it did not cure me. I would feel better for sometime but the results did not last for long and I finished the bottles of medicine for temporary relief. I would think all possible worst thoughts against religion that I was too afraid to bring to my tongue, and I would weep alone.
When I finally saw a psychiatrist online, it turned out that I was suffering from religious OCD also known as Scrupulosity. I followed the activities that the psychiatrist asked me to do for a while. Whenever I tried to complete the exercises, my brain still talked somewhere in the back of my head so I stopped complying with them. The more I tried to avoid thoughts, the more they came. The utter guilt was ruining me, and my family blamed and scolded me for letting these brainwaves come to my mind. Amidst everything I found a friend from a different religion online. They listened to my thoughts, with respect, patiently all day and all night. Whenever I would get the urge to harm myself, I would write to them and they used to leave their work and sleep to comfort me. I would feel light when I told them whatever would come to my mind. They did not judge a single thought of mine and helped me in dealing with the tricks my brain was playing on me.
A Summon for Circles of Support
In my case, people around me served as a catalyst in worsening my mental health by constantly accusing me of becoming a turncoat. The comments of my family, and my best friend deeply affected my wellbeing. My experience illuminates the psychological tumult Muslim girls go through when they make life choices that do not align with the hegemonic circle of their community. Their own loved ones make sinners out of them. Some of us internalize the guilt and suffer alone. Mental suffering in Muslim community is not received well, people who struggle are referred to as those who have “drifted from the right path”. This affects girls and boys both. Through my experience, I feel there is a strong need for more support groups in Pakistan. Groups that can bring solace and comfort to people suffering from psychological problems linked with religion without (mis)judging them; only then can we create a healthy space for our youth to thrive.
Manahil A.
Manahil is a Humanities student who is trying to survive and explore life.