Choosing the Beginning: Nadia Murad in conversation with Caroline Whiteley

Nadia Murad: I believe that personal stories have the power to change communities, laws and norms. When I started, it was the only weapon I had. I still believe in the power of my story. But it has never been easy. When the world first gets to know you through violence, you are defined by that story, no matter how much you try to move forward, people often only see that one part of you.

Healing looks different for everyone. What works for me doesn’t necessarily work for my sisters, even though we went through the same experiences.

In the early years, I completely neglected my own well-being. I focused only on the work. My body eventually gave up – my hair was falling out, I wasn’t eating, I was exhausted. I became a story instead of a person, answering the same questions over and over again. I also carried a lot of survivor’s guilt. I felt responsible for surviving when others didn’t. Even when people tell you not to feel that way, you still do.

The moment I began to feel more at peace was when I accepted that my story is part of me, but not all of me. I had to stop allowing the world to keep me trapped in that one moment. But there is another part of me who just loves makeup, a nice dress. When I was a little girl, I wanted to open a beauty salon in a small remote village in Kojo. It was almost a joke to people around me, because there had never been anything like that.

When I moved to Stuttgart, I didn’t know how to drive, so I started running to get to know the city. Five miles, sometimes more. I decided when to stop, how far to go. Running clears my head, it helps me to test my boundaries. I wish I had learned earlier that I was allowed to say no – in interviews, in work, in life. But they were all great, valuable lessons.

After escaping ISIS, we lost everything. My sister and I needed clothes. Our social worker in Stuttgart took us to thrift stores and for me, it was heaven. Growing up, we had very little. You didn’t get a new coat every year. You wore what your older sister had worn before you. So being in a place like that was emotional for me. It started as something I needed, and slowly became something I loved. Now, whenever I have a few free hours, I do two things: I go for a run, and I visit a thrift store. I’m not interested in famous names or trends. What matters to me is quality – a piece that was loved and cared for by someone else, and can be enjoyed again.

Fashion and beauty, for me, are about expression. Two people can use the same makeup and create something completely different. That freedom matters. It’s a way of expressing who you are, beyond what others expect you to be.

So much of the work we’ve done has been about rebuilding what was destroyed: schools, hospitals, clean water, agriculture. But women’s centers were the hardest projects to get support for, because they never existed before. When I said I wanted to build the first women’s center in the region, many people were hesitant. Schools had existed before, so rebuilding them made sense to people. A women’s center did not.

In a way, it reminded me of the beauty salon I imagined as a girl: a space for women that people couldn’t quite picture yet. Today, the center brings women together. They teach each other. We offer language classes, sports, and training, including makeup and hair, because many women want to open small businesses, like a salon or a shop.

Most importantly, these are spaces where women are not judged or stigmatized. They feel safe. They feel confident. In places where child marriage has been legalized, many mothers simply want an alternative for their daughters. After we opened [the women’s center], I felt so proud and emotional. My mother, and so many women like her, never had anything like this.

At the moment, progress is still slow. You have to speak to fathers, to religious leaders to make sure that they welcome these changes. But now, in our lifetime, I believe these women and girls will be able to make their own decisions. And that is a good thing.