Growing up, I was taught that Islam was a faith that championed the rights of women and that the Prophet Mohammed was kind and benevolent to my gender.
Identity is important. It helps you find your clan, it engenders a sense of belonging, and it can – and should – have many dimensions. But in Britain, it seems, only certain identities are thought to belong.
Throughout my formative years I toyed with what it meant to be a mixed race Muslim woman in Britain. I considered wearing a hijab to more easily fit in with my Indian and Pakistani relatives, but then eschewed the idea for fear that it would alienate my Scottish ones. I never really understood how I could consolidate all of my identities.
Ugly food is not a concept I grew up with. I have mixed Scottish, Indian and Pakistani heritage so it was not unusual for me to be served up haggis bonbons, paya (trotters), any offal that could be procured and I have, on more than one occasion as a child, been tricked into eating cow brains by my grandfather who convinced me that what I was eating was scrambled eggs.