People get so triggered when I talk about the hijab... if you can talk about how good your experiences are wearing it, why can’t I talk about how bad mine were! We all have a story, let me tell mine.

Hate to break it to ya but not all girls want to wear the hijab, let’s start with that. crazy huh. I started wearing the hijab when I was 9 years old. NINE YEARS OLD. I didn’t know why I wore it, my mom just told me I had to wear it. I went with it because I was scared.

It ruined my self esteem, I had no friends. I lived in a white neighborhood where I always got picked on. I never told my parents that I wanted to take it off because I was scared they would take me to Iraq and leave me there... where here’s where the story gets crazy.

I waited until I was legal before I could do anything with my life. So much time wasted. Fast forward to when I turned 18. I randomly packed all my shit and decided to move out of my parents house without telling them and went to live with a friend I had at that time.

Short story (it didn’t work out and my parents promised they would change so I moved back home) I trusted them. They acted so different, they were careful with everything. They let me leave the house more often, they let me wear what I wanted, they let me out on makeup etc etc.

Like two months before Christmas break (I was a freshman in college) they told me that we, as a family, would be visiting Iraq together. They said it was just to catch up and hang out with relatives during Christmas break. I would be back before school started. This was Dec 2018

I was super excited! I trust that they wouldn’t do any shady shit because I was 18 years old anyways. They said that we would even travel to dubai together, visit Kuwait and other nearby countries..

We were supposed to be there for like 2-3 weeks, 2 weeks passed by.. I asked my mom why no one was packing anything, she informed that we were staying in Iraq forever. She told me that I was too westernized and that I was changing. I would ruin their reputation It’s all my fault

I started to panic like fucking crazy, I had school in like 7-8 days. I didn’t want to miss anything. I texted all my friends to let them know what was happening. They informed me to email the US embassy immediately. So that’s what I did.

My parents had hid my passport from me. luckily I had a scanned copy of my passport and my ID. I sent whatever I had to the embassy and we went on from there.

At this point I started a gofundme account so that I had enough money to get a ticket, hotel room, Ubers, etc etc. The gofundme saved my ass, I am forever thankful to whoever donated money to me. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

My twitter and gofundme story had blew up on social media. I didn’t think anyone would notice it but... my family did while I was trying to leave. I am a big giant idiot. At this point my dad took away my phone, took away my laptop. I got physically abused. It was really scary.

I somehow managed to get all my shit back, I think I told them that I took down the gofundme account and I deleted my twitter (which I did I no longer have that information anymore).

The US embassy told me that the only way they could send me back home was if I came to them myself. They can’t just come get me, it was too dangerous for them and I.

So one day lol after all that abuse and torture.. I said fuck it. I saw that the door to my house was open (they usually keep it locked and hide the key) and I made a run for it. I left the house with my iPhone, a purse and a charger I legit thought I was going to die

I ran as fast as I could before anyone could notice me (everyone was sleeping, this was in the morning). I saw a taxi after walking for like 5 minutes. I told him in my broken Arabic that I needed to get to the “safariah” which means US embassy in Arabic.

He was like... “that’s two hours away and I don’t know where its at but on the way we can ask people” I legit thought I was going to get dumped in the desert. I was so scared. He was a really sweet guy though. I wish I could say thank you.

He kept asking me if I was American. I pretended to sleep so I wouldn’t answer his questions. I didn’t want to dig my own grave.

We got there and of course the fucking Iraqi soldiers tried to send me back home (the ones at the gate of the US embassy) I didn’t have service so I couldn’t prove that I was in contact with a diplomat. Luckily I had someone’s number saved, i used a soldiers phone to call them

They let me in, at this point I’m passing out. I could see my life flash before my eyes. I had like 1000 people in my face asking me questions left and right.

I talked with a diplomat, they tell me I’m safe and okay, they document the whole thing, get me knew clothes, made me another passport, and within fucking 10 hours I was out of Iraq lol.

They tell me that my parents ARE AT THE FUCKING GATE BUT TOLD THEM I WASNT THERE. Do you know how scared I was. I literally got ptsd just from that specific situation.

I slept at a diplomats house for around 5-7 at the embassy. (the coolest experience of my entire damn life) the whole place is just like a mini America.

After not sleeping the diplomat wakes me up and tells me A HELICOPTER IS WAITING FOR US. A FUCKING HELICOPTER. I rode with the coolest dudes in the entire world. I felt like I was in a movie. I will never forget that I rode with diplomats and soldiers guarding me.

So we get on the helicopter and FLY TO A PRIVATE PLANE, A PRIVATE PLANE. HELLO? HOLLYWOOD. Making this a movie PLEASE. I go on the plane and sit alone with nothing but a phone and a purse. At this point, the diplomat tells me what i need to do and leaves.

The plane leaves Iraq and goes to ****** (just in case someone is in the same situation) I arrive and another diplomat tells me what I need to do.i go to that embassy and sign a bunch of stuff. Within 5 hours I leave ***** and head to America. At this point I’m scared shitless.

I have a phone, charger and a purse. I have nothing to my name. Luckily my university saw all the tweets and took me in. I lived in a dorm for the rest of the semester. I picked up a lot of jobs and had a little of money left over from the gofundme me account.

All the Muslims in the area knew what was happening, I was scared for months. I barely went outside. I was constantly judged.

Its been a year and a half now and I still am thriving. I have my own apartment, I have amazing grades, my relationship with my family is rocky, but it’s a lot better. Sadly my family and siblings still live in Iraq. I wish they would all just come back home.

My sister is going to turn 18 soon. She didn’t even get to finish her high school degree. Thinking about those things pains me. I am here doing my best for her! For all the people that can’t live their lives the way they want. Religion and culture did nothing but fuck up my life

I don’t wear the hijab anymore and frankly I don’t care what people have to say anymore. I am way happier. I am healthy.

I am healing.

This was the US embassy, baby amna knew she would make an impact on this world. She knew she had dreams to pursue. Nothing was going to stop her. I left Iraq thinking I was going to die. I MADE IT. Currently crying typing this.

I was always so tired, scared, hurt, broken. I was always bruised. I made it.

Im so glad the US embassy helped me. I wouldnt be here without them. Thank you so so much. A diplomats job is fucking amazing and so crazy. I applaud them. Thank you thank you thank you thank you

Frankly when people tell me I’m going to hell for taking off the hijab I laugh. Did you run in the desert looking for a taxi when you were 18? Do you live on your own? Did you sacrifice EVERYTHING for your own future? How about you f*ck off:)

I also was diagnosed with major depressive disorder and PTSD, I can’t sleep at night anymore. The sacrifice was worth it. If you can’t handle me talking about my struggles then don’t follow me. I have every right to discuss the REALITY.

Living on my own was actually so hard, I was babied. My parents never taught me anything because they didn’t want me to leave the house. I learned from scratch and boy the mistakes and lessons I’ve learned

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