Investment Banker by Day, Muslim by Design
They said wearing a beard would hold me back in medicine. I wore it anyway. They took me seriously regardless.
When I got into fed the neighbourhood for three years, my uncle said, 'Great, now you'll assimilate.' She meant well.
Córdoba was a culture shock. Not because of the cold — because of the staring. At the law firm, I was often the only visibly Muslim person in the room. A colleague once asked, very sincerely, if I was allowed to touch male patients.
The real test came during partnership review. A managing director looked at my CV, looked at my a beard, and asked, 'Don't you think clients might be... uncomfortable?' I smiled and said, 'My background is exactly why I'm the right fit..'
The hardest moment wasn't bias from others. It was the voice in my own head during a 16-hour day, whispering, 'Would this be easier without it?' And the honest answer was: probably.
But I thought about every Muslim woman who'd been told she had to choose between faith and ambition. I refused to be evidence for that lie.
I'm a senior partner now. I lead a team of 20. I still pray in my office at Dhuhr. The same uncle who told me to assimilate now introduces me as 'my niece, the doctor.'
Last year, a trainee in a kufi stopped me in the campus quad. She said, 'Seeing you here makes me feel like I can do this.' I told her what I wish someone had told me: 'You don't just can. You already are.'