my mum's revert story

"I have learnt a lot about my own limitations as a revert and the struggles I have encountered, but I have never ever considered I was on the wrong path. All my struggles have made me who I am today"

In Islam, we believe that every child is born Muslim, and to be Muslim means ‘one who submits to God.’ So when a child is raised to believe otherwise and then takes their Shahadah and devotes themselves as a Muslim again, we refer to them as "reverts" rather than using the term "convert," which is more commonly used for someone who changes religions. My mum, at 18 years old, reverted to Islam and has been Muslim for 30 years now. To be honest, "reverts" have been a norm for me, as it is all I know. For example, my mum, brother-in-law, and many of my aunties are reverts. I am familiar with my mum’s revert story, including her trials and journey, but I recently thought that some people might be less aware of what a revert’s journey can look like and how challenging it can be, especially back in the 90s in Australia. So, in celebration of my mum being a Muslim for 30 years this year, here is her story.

via Cambridge Central Mosque website

When I asked my mum, Linda Macmillan, what kind of household she was raised in, she said it was "I would not say anti-religion, but it was not the norm.” She explained that her family was more cultural than religious, and their only ties to religion were the celebration of holidays like Christmas and, on occasion, abstaining from meat on Good Fridays. She identified with the cultures of the predominantly white Christian/Catholic Australian community and simply assumed she was part of that.

As kids, we knew our mum had ‘become a Muslim’ and that her upbringing was different from ours, but we also knew that because our mum had reverted, being a good Muslim and learning as much as we could was important to her. While we were learning, she was also on her own journey of learning. Unlike Muslims like myself, who were born into a Muslim household and community, my mum was building her understanding from scratch.

My mum says that when she was 14, a friend invited her to join a youth group. She recalls, “I did not know it was a Christian youth group at the time and did not care, to be honest, because it was fun. We sang, learned to play the guitar, and went on excursions to places my family could not afford to take me.” Not knowing much about religion, she mentioned that attending the youth group didn’t help her learn much about it either. “I knew I believed in one God but had not yet put together all the other formalities,” she said.

Mum said she only discovered Islam in high school, thanks to having Muslim friends who did not drink, avoided gambling, and had strong, close-knit family units. She admired their religion for its belief in one God alone, with no partners. She described it as a recipe for living a balanced and meaningful life.

ingredients:

• Prayer

• Fasting

• Charity

• Pilgrimage

“Mix them all together, and you have a simple recipe for life.”

I think that in Western Sydney, where I grew up, it’s now quite common to see white Australians embracing Islam. It has become much more normalized for both men and women to revert and find support within the community. Of course, this contrasts with my mum’s experience, and I don’t mean to discredit anyone’s recent challenges. Today, social media can romanticize people's revert stories and gloss over the hardships that men and women from previous generations endured.

I can’t imagine how difficult it must have been for a young Aussie girl in the 90s to decide to become Muslim, especially when Australian media of that time portrayed Islam as something negative and foreign. It was a period when the media often depicted Islam as evil and predatory, while also idealizing Western values as symbols of beauty and purity. This was particularly challenging for my mum, who was introduced to Islam by Arab Muslim peers.

Mum says she grew up in a culture where alcohol and gambling were common in average households, so one thing she knew for certain was that she did not want to adopt a lifestyle where these were the norm or considered rites of passage. She recalls, “I think I was Muslim before I realised I was Muslim, if that makes sense. I borrowed a copy of the Qur’an from my local library and memorised the opening Surah, Surat Al-Fatiha. I stopped eating pork but still did not identify as Muslim at that point.”

Mum said that when she was 18 years old, she felt like she was Muslim but had not yet taken her Shahadah. It wasn’t until her future father-in-law (my grandfather) asked her during their first introduction if she wanted to be Muslim that she formally embraced the faith. Mum said she agreed and performed her Shahadah right then and there in front of her future in-laws.

My mum has to be one of the most driven and determined people I know, so it’s no surprise that she was so sure of herself and her decision at such a young age. At 18, the biggest decision I was making was choosing which eyeshadow palette to buy with my retail salary.

A common misconception that revert women, in particular, often face is whether they reverted for a man. While this may be true for a few, the essence of reverting is to do so for oneself and never for someone else. Given that my mum married young and my dad is an Arab man, some of the scrutiny she faced was likely rooted in misogyny, racism, or Islamophobia, and I’m sure she still encounters such questions today.

Now that I’m married and at the age she was when she had three kids (me and my sisters), and I have none, I can better appreciate the challenges she must have faced. Navigating self-discovery, adapting to a new culture, learning a new faith, and raising children while ensuring they are well-educated about Islam must have been incredibly difficult.

When I asked my mum about her first few years as a Muslim, she said, “They were slow regarding knowledge. I was newly married and had started a family. I think it wasn’t until I had to teach my children about Islam that I really reflected on what I knew. I had a dear friend who taught me how to pray, and I began to learn more about Surahs in Arabic.”

My mum says, “Raising children while learning about Islam and teaching them about it was the best experience. I needed to understand so I could answer their questions. We learned Surahs, different types of prayers, and stories of the prophets together. I used to print out Eid journals, stories, and lessons for each of my children, putting them in folders with their names on them. Little did they know, I was learning, too.”

She continues, “We made a big deal out of Eid, with crafts, decorations, and special food. I think we grew in our faith together, which is beautiful. Learning about Islam is a lifelong journey. Even today, I discover new things and share them in our group chat.”

As one of the children in question i can attest to this. When our cousins or even our friends were celebrating Christmas or Easter we never felt left out, Mum would make Ramadan and Eid feel so special and she put alot of effort that didn’t go unnoticed.

My mum was my first introduction to the hijab. When I was asked about my journey with it in work interviews, I would always say that my mum inspired me to wear it and that I loved how it looked because of her. I asked her about her own experience with the hijab in our little interview, knowing that if it’s a significant journey for the average Muslim woman, it must have been even more complex for a revert.

She shared, “When my second child was born, I decided to start wearing the hijab…” (That’s me, by the way, so this was in 1999). “At that time, there were no reverts in the area where I grew up, let alone a Hijabi Australian girl from Western Sydney. It was definitely uncommon, and it was hard. Old friends distanced themselves from me, relatives stopped contacting me, and people were downright rude.”

She continued, “If we face challenges now as Muslim women, imagine being a white Muslim woman in a racist country back then. There was no diversity in media, no social media, no support groups—you were basically alone with no support system. Some common questions from random strangers included, ‘Does your husband make you wear that?’, ‘Aren’t you hot in that?’, and ‘Is your husband good to you?’ I can’t forget one time a shop assistant spoke to me as if I didn’t understand English. Honestly, most of the issues came from my own community.”

Reflecting on my mum's experience, I can imagine that being Muslim was one thing, but wearing the hijab meant she could no longer "pass" as just another white woman. Now, our community faces complex issues, such as white-passing hijabi women being treated better and more idolized on social media, which is rooted in racism within our own community and a tendency to conform to European beauty standards.

For example, when I accompanied my mum to predominantly white suburbs, where she was often the 'majority' because of her race, I noticed how she seemed almost like an undercover agent. She could sense the subtle changes in tone and treatment that came with her wearing the hijab because she was aware of how others, like her sister, were treated. I sometimes joked that my mum was like a "racism spy," able to detect and understand the nuances of prejudice in ways others might not.

My mum says, “I honestly think I could write a book about all the adverse incidents I’ve experienced. On a positive note, my father-in-law took me in as his daughter and instilled in me a love for Islam that I probably didn’t get anywhere else. Allah Yerhamo, he had a beautiful soul, and I believe that without his outlook on life and Islam, my journey would have been a lot rougher.” As his granddaughter, I can attest to that and say the same for myself as well.

It’s no secret to anyone who is a person of color or visibly Muslim that growing up in a post-9/11 world has come with its own set of challenges and trauma. As a young mother and a hijabi Muslim woman during that time, I asked my mum how the rise of Islamophobia impacted her journey and experiences.

My mum recounts a significant increase in negative experiences, saying, “9/11 was terrible. I was spat at by someone on a bus through the bus window. The fire brigade was called to my father’s house because someone sent a white substance and a death threat to me and my children. I have been told to go back to my own country and experienced many other horrible things. I have learned a lot about my own limitations as a revert and the struggles I’ve faced, but I have never once considered that I was on the wrong path. All my struggles have shaped me into who I am today.”

A mothers resilience is extraordinary but my mum has overcome so much for the sake of her family and ultimately her devotion to God its worthy of medals. I hope to even have an inch of her devotion to motherhood one day. Her sacrifices and hardships haven’t gone unnoticed and me and my siblings cherish our good experiences knowing our parents sacrificed so much so we could have it better than they did.

On a lighter note, who am I if not a fashion enthusiast? Honestly, my mum’s modest fashion journey has had the biggest impact on me, so I had to ask her to share how she navigated her style. I have vivid memories of her outfits and how she managed to look amazing on a budget with a lot of DIY skills.

Mum explains that, as you might expect, fashion was not a major consideration when she first wore the hijab in the 90s. “We had no role models, no representation, or anything like that. We just bought bigger or longer clothing.”

Recalling her experience, she adds, “The only fashion I played with was the hijab itself. Back then, only older women wore it, and the shape was square. If you know the struggle, you’ll understand that it wasn’t a highlight of modest fashion. My sister-in-law, who was also a revert, would load the kids into the car and drive to Cabramatta to buy fabric for hijabs. We would select youthful colors and soft patterns, take the material to Spotlight, and have the edges overlocked.” She even mentioned experimenting with adding pretty pins and flowers, which was so wholesome.

I, of course, enjoyed writing this because it brought back wholesome memories and makes me happy to think that my mum’s experiences might help someone else. It also makes me reflect that if my mum at 18 could read this, she would see that everything turned out okay and that it all worked out. I hope all her dreams came true.

Thirty years on, my mum has four kids, one grandchild, and is about to graduate from university. And she no longer has to overlock hijabs herself, which is definitely a win.

"And whoever relies upon Allah - then He is sufficient for him. Indeed, Allah will accomplish His purpose. Allah has already set for everything a decree."
— Qur'an 65:3