Changing the Stereotypes of Muslim Women

NURA MAZNAVI KNOWS that when she steps out in her hijab, she’s a walking stereotype.

What’s a Muslim woman like? “A silent, submissive woman who doesn’t have control over her life, doesn’t have agency over her decisions, somebody’s whose important events in her life are dictated by people other than herself, particularly when it comes to love,” says Maznavi, 33, a former Bay Area civil rights attorney now practicing in Los Angeles.

Either that, or she’s seen as being asexual. “Repressed and oppressed,” she says with a laugh. “That we don’t feel in the same way other women feel love and desire.”

That image couldn’t be further from the truth. So to better reflect the diversity of the estimated 8 million Muslims in the United States, Maznavi and her friend Ayesha Mattu co-edited “Love, InshAllah: The Secret Love Lives of American Muslim Women” (256 pages, Soft Skull, $15.95), a collection of essays about love, flirting, dating, divorce and sex that debuted Valentine’s Day.

“Most of us are highly independent, funny and opinionated,” says Mattu, 39, a San Francisco human rights consultant. “We thought it was time to tell our story in a more honest and individual way.”

From chaperoned dating and matrimonial websites to college flirtations and a whirlwind international romance, “InshAllah” — which means God willing — unites gay, straight, pious and secular stories of love and longing

among ethnically diverse Islamic American women of all ages.

As far as the two women can tell, it is the first book of its type.