I’ve heard it all my life that I am strong, that I can handle things, that I somehow always manage. And I never really corrected anyone. Maybe because somewhere between expectation and survival, I became that woman without even realising when it happened.

But strength is not always what it looks like from the outside. Sometimes it is simply what you learn when you understand that no one is coming, that you have to hold things together because there is no space to fall apart. It is not always a choice. Sometimes it is just what remains when everything else is taken away.

People admire how I carry things, how I stay composed, how I keep going. But they don’t see how early I had to grow into this, how many times I swallowed my own feelings just to keep everything around me steady. Being dependable sounds like a beautiful quality until you realise it quietly becomes a place you are not allowed to leave. Everyone leans, and over time, you forget what it feels like to be held.

I don’t think I ever chose this strength. I think I just learned to survive in a way that looked graceful enough for people to call it admirable. And there are moments, quiet ones that no one notices, where even I can feel how heavy it has been.

Moments where I don’t want to be strong, or have answers, or be the one people turn to. I don’t want to carry everything so well. I just want a little ease, a little softness, a little care that comes before I have to ask for it.

Because the truth is, I am not tired of life itself. I am tired of always being the one who has to hold it all together. And somewhere deep within me, there is still a longing for a different kind of life one where I am not only known for my strength, where I am cared for without having to prove how much I have endured, where rest does not come only after breaking, and where love does not arrive late.

A life where I am not always the one carrying, fixing, holding everything in place… but simply a woman who is allowed to be.

This is for every woman who was told she has to be strong… Allah created us with softness too, we were never meant to carry everything that is breaking us.

But something being natural does not automatically make it right, deep, or lasting.

This is where many people get confused. A person begins to feel emotionally attached, they wait for messages, they keep checking their phone, their mood starts depending on one person’s response, and slowly they begin to believe: this must be love… this must be the one for me… I cannot live without this person. But in many cases, what they are calling love is only a repeated emotional stimulation that their heart and mind have become used to.

Every time a message comes, the brain releases dopamine a small hit of pleasure, anticipation, and relief. Over time, a person does not just wait for the person… they start waiting for that feeling. The checking, the excitement, the anxiety when there is no reply all of this forms a pattern. Sometimes it is not the person we are attached to as much as it is the feeling they give us. What feels like connection is often just the brain getting used to a cycle.

Sometimes it is not the person we are attached to as much as it is the feeling they give us. The anticipation. The excitement. The relief when they reply. The emptiness when they do not. The anxiety when the conversation slows down. A person may think they are deeply connected, but sometimes they are only trapped in a cycle of emotional dependence what psychology calls a reward loop.

They start craving the attention, the check-ins, the constant communication, and they name that craving “love.”

And that is dangerous, because constant texting and emotional interaction can create an illusion of closeness without the depth of real commitment. It can make a person feel bonded, when in reality the bond is resting on stimulation, not stability. On emotional highs, not clarity. On anxious attachment, not sakoon.

At the same time, real emotional bonding what gives a sense of warmth and closeness is linked to oxytocin.

But oxytocin does not grow through constant, shallow contact. It strengthens through meaningful presence, through real commitment, through distance followed by reunion, through something that has depth and direction. When everything becomes constant and always available, the heart does not deepen… it becomes dependent.

That is why people begin using words like pasandeeda mard [favorite man] or pasandeeda aurat [favorite woman], and they speak as though they have found someone truly meant for them

But the truth is, the feelings you are experiencing in that phase are not always showing you reality. They can be heavily shaped by attraction, hormones, longing, novelty, and unmet emotional needs. A strong feeling does not always mean a true connection.

Intensity is not always sincerity. Emotional excitement is not always compatibility.

Sometimes what feels like “I really love this person” is actually : I have become emotionally dependent on the attention of this person.

And there is a difference.

Real love is not built on constant noise. Real love is not something that needs nonstop access to survive. Real connection does not collapse in silence.

A heart that is secure does not need to keep proving its presence every few minutes. But unhealthy attachment often does. It needs constant feeding. Constant reassurance. Constant reminders. That is why when the messages reduce, the heart starts panicking. Not because it was deep love, but because the attachment had become needy.

Even from a human perspective, when a relationship is fed only by endless access, overexposure, and constant messaging, it loses the space in which longing, respect, and meaningful connection grow. A person begins to associate “love” not with peace, trust, and stability, but with anxiety, urgency, overthinking, and emotional dependency.

Then later, when they enter something serious, they carry those same unhealthy patterns with them and wonder why their heart does not feel settled.

And this is something we need to reflect on deeply: Islam does not place boundaries to suffocate love. Islam places boundaries to protect the heart from false versions of it.

Guarding interactions, lowering the gaze, preserving distance, and not opening emotional doors too early all of this protects a person from building invisible bonds in places where there is no real commitment. It protects the heart from becoming attached to someone who was never written to stay.

So no, every strong feeling is not love. Every attachment is not a sign. Every person you cannot stop thinking about is not your qadr.

Sometimes it is simply attraction being misunderstood. Sometimes it is loneliness looking for relief. Sometimes it is hormones like dopamine and oxytocin creating a sense of closeness that feels real but is not yet grounded in truth. And sometimes it is the heart becoming attached to the feeling of being wanted.

Love, in its truest form, should not pull you away from Allah. It should not make you emotionally unstable, secretly dependent, and inwardly restless.

What is real brings clarity. What is real brings dignity. What is real is able to stand in truth, commitment, and halal responsibility.

So before calling someone your pasandeeda mard or pasandeeda aurat, pause and ask yourself:

• Do I really know this person in reality?

• Or am I attached to how they make me feel?

• Is this connection rooted in truth?

• Or is it only being carried by attraction, hormones, and emotional craving?

Because not everything the heart feels is meant to be followed. And not everything that feels intense is meant to stay..

Sometimes, when Ramadan begins, there is a quiet heaviness many of us don’t know how to name….

We’re trying. We’re showing up. And yet something feels unfinished. We wonder if we’re slow. If we’re falling behind. If our īmān is weaker than those around us.

We even ask ourselves why the struggle remains, when Shaitaan is chained and the path is meant to feel lighter. This question is not unfamiliar.

Most of us have stood here before. And noticing it truly noticing it is not a sign of failure. It is awareness. And awareness is a mercy.

Life was never meant to stay still. Ease gives way to difficulty. Certainty gives way to confusion. Lightness is followed by weight. This movement is deliberate.

It is part of how Allah keeps the heart awake.

Because a heart that never shifts slowly slips into something far more dangerous than pain or hardship it slips into forgetfulness. Forgetting the One who sustains it. Forgetting that every step is leading somewhere. This state is ghaflah.

And from mercy, Allah does not allow life to remain the same. Yet some hearts resist every turning.

Signs surround them: the sun rising without fail, the seasons changing on time, breath entering and leaving without effort yet nothing inside bends. Not toward gratitude. Not toward humility. Instead, the posture hardens. Locked in position. Chained by بدعة [Bi'dah], by شرك [Shirk], by ego.

And slowly, restraints form, built not by force, but by repeated refusal. One dismissal. Then another. Until movement becomes impossible. Ahead, a barrier. Behind, another. No way forward toward belief. No way back to what was once known. Stillness takes over. Not the peaceful kind, but the frozen kind. And then sight itself is affected. Not because guidance vanished. The light remains everywhere. The Qur’an is still recited. Reminders still arrive. Good people still cross their path. But a heart that has closed cannot receive what surrounds it. Warnings lose their weight. Truth feels distant. Right and wrong blur into the same quiet nothingness.

The warning and the silence become equal سَوَاءٌ because neither can reach what has been sealed. So the real question is not about effort or comparison.

It is this: Is the heart still able to respond?

Because that responsiveness that ability to be stirred, unsettled, softened is among the greatest gifts Allah gives. To hear an āyah and feel it land. To receive a reminder and feel something shift inside. To sense a warning and turn before hardness sets in.

The Companions رضي الله عنهم carried hearts that were alert and receptive.

Not untouched by struggle but open. They stayed close to the Qur’an. They remained grounded in dhikr. They guarded humility carefully. They did not allow walls to rise. Light requires space. It needs an opening. It needs a heart willing to let it enter.

And every reminder that reaches us whether gentle or uncomfortable is not accidental. Allah is the One reaching out.

People are only the pathways. What matters is whether the heart is still open enough to receive what He sends.

May Allah keep our hearts awake. Soft. Responsive. May He protect us from the kind of pride that builds walls, and make humility the resting state of our hearts. Ameen

A Year of Meetings and Goodbyes — reflections on connections, longing, and the quiet lessons of the heart

This year has been a year of goodbyes and warm hugs, of meeting people after ages, and then parting again with the quiet hope that the next meeting will be longer, gentler, and filled with more memories.

When I look back at how this year began, it started with something so unexpected a longing I had carried for years, a longing to meet someone dear. And then, just as suddenly, life brought moments of meeting… followed by the softness of goodbye.

I think that’s what life truly is. a gentle rhythm between welcoming people into our lives and letting them go when their chapter pauses.

This year began exactly like that. For the first time, I met my teacher someone who had shaped my journey from a distance, someone whose presence I had felt through words, guidance, and Qur’an, but never face-to-face. I also met friends with whom I began my journey of seeking knowledge. Friends whom I had never seen in real life, and yet we shared something sisterly, something precious.

There’s a beautiful word I came across recently: friemily — friends who become like family.

And I think that’s what they became for me. A friemily that shares milestones, joys, and struggles without conditions or expectations.

The bonds built upon the Qur’an…they’re different. They’re purer.

There’s no “what will I get in return?” or “what do I owe?” There is just unconditional care, sincerity, and the kind of support that feels like a du’a being answered.

And when I met my teacher, something inside me shifted. I remembered watching a video months earlier a small child running towards their Qur’an teacher with so much excitement, so much love. I smiled and thought, Maybe one day, if Allah wills, I will meet my own teacher like that.

It wasn’t even a du’a I made aloud. Just a thought tucked somewhere inside my heart. But Allah fulfills even those unspoken wishes.

And months later, that moment came true. I saw her. I hugged her. I sat beside her. Just like that child.

And nothing about it felt imagined it felt written for me. In the same year, I met my friends. I met my loved ones after years. My son started his journey of knowledge. And then again, we had to say goodbye.

The same happened with my siblings. Smiles, reunions, warmth… and then the ache of parting again.

And it made me reflect: We begin our lives with no expectations, no attachments. But the moment we breathe in this world, we start forming connections. Beautiful ones, painful ones, life-changing ones.

These connections make our lives easier sometimes… and harder at other times. But somewhere between meeting and separating, we collect these little moments moments where we understand life a bit more, moments that teach us softness, longing, gratitude, and hope. And every time we part, we hold a quiet wish inside us

Maybe next time I’ll hug them a bit longer. Maybe next time I’ll tell them how much they mean to me. Maybe next time we’ll sit a little more, talk a little more, laugh a little more.

Isn’t it beautiful how the heart works?

The way it feels excitement when someone is coming…and the way it sinks quietly when someone is leaving.

Life really is a cycle of arrivals and departures. But when we cherish the right connections and gently let go of the ones that drain us, that’s when we find peace.

So yes, this year has been a year of meetings and goodbyes. A year of fulfilled longings and unexpected reunions. A year that taught me how deeply connections shape us, heal us, and stay with us long after someone walks away.

There are seasons in our lives when the heart feels heavy, not because of one big event, but because of the constant flow of thoughts, emotions, and expectations we silently carry. And in those moments, people often tell us: “Reflect.” “Think deeper.” “Look within.”

Reflection is beautiful but sometimes it becomes another weight we force upon ourselves..

Over the past few weeks, I found myself wondering:

Do we always need to reflect Or is there another form of inner wisdom that we rarely acknowledge?

That’s when I revisited something I had read long ago an idea inspired by Viktor Frankl about how the mind can shift its attention, not out of denial, but out of courage and self-preservation. And it made me pause… We speak so much about reflection in our circles… but almost nothing about deflection. Yet many of us practice it without realising its value.

So today, I want to open this door. I want to explore deflection not as avoidance, but as a conscious, compassionate choice that protects the heart until it’s strong enough to reflect.

This is a reminder for anyone who feels emotionally tired, mentally stretched, or spiritually overwhelmed…

Sometimes, choosing not to go deeper is the most mature thing you can do. Sometimes, turning away is also a step toward healing.

What Is Deflection Really?

Deflection is that gentle inner shift when your mind says:

“Not now. I’m not ready to unpack this.” “This thought is too heavy for the moment.” “Let me protect my heart first.”

It is not denial. It is not running away. It is not weakness.

It is your heart choosing its own safety before diving into something that might overwhelm you. It is the emotional pause we rarely acknowledge the space between a trigger and a response, where you decide whether a thought deserves your attention or not.

Why We Need Deflection

We often hear that emotional growth requires constant reflection. But true growth also requires knowing when not to reflect.

Here’s why deflection matters deeply

1. Your mind needs boundaries just like your life does.

Not every thought deserves to sit with you. Not every emotion deserves to be analysed. Some thoughts are noise. Some emotions are temporary storms. Deflection stops the spiral before it begins.

2. You don't have to solve everything the moment it appears.

There are days when reflecting will help you grow. And there are days when reflecting will overwhelm you. Deflection is the wisdom to say: “I will come back to this when my heart is calm.” This is not procrastination it is emotional intelligence.

3. Islam honours the redirection of attention.

Our deen teaches us to turn away from what harms the heart doubts, negativity, suspicion, destructive self-talk, whispers. Turning away is not always avoidance.

• Sometimes it is spirituality.

• Sometimes it is self-protection.

Deflection is part of that spiritual wisdom.

4. Deflection prevents emotional flooding.

When you are tired or triggered, your thoughts exaggerate and your emotions feel bigger than they are. Reflection at that moment becomes dangerous. Deflection gives you breathing space. It protects your inner world until you are ready to face the truth gently.

5. Deflection can save relationships.

A heated conversation can turn hurtful very quickly. By shifting your attention or stepping away politely, you stop the damage before it happens. It gives you time to return with calmness, not reactivity.

Deflection Is Not the Opposite of Reflection It Complements It

This is what Viktor Frankl beautifully highlighted, we have the ability to choose our focus.

Meaning is not found by drowning in every feeling. Meaning is found in choosing what to hold and what to release. Deflection is a form of choosing. Sometimes reflection guides your growth. Sometimes deflection protects your peace. Both are needed. Both are valid. Both are part of your emotional and spiritual maturity.

A Final Thought

If you’ve been deflecting lately, don’t judge yourself. Maybe your heart is simply asking for gentleness before it opens the next door.

Healing is not a race. Growth is not a performance.

And you are allowed to choose what you think about, when you think about it, and how deeply you want to go.

Deflection is not escaping life. It is choosing your timing with wisdom, mercy, and trust that Allah knows what your heart is carrying. And sometimes, that choice itself is an act of healing.

For the longest time, I only knew one kind of language which we speak. I never realized there are deeper languages, silent ones, that connect hearts far more meaningfully.

With time, I discovered mine.

When I think of my father, I remember how quietly he received love. He was a man who never expressed much, never asked for anything, but his eyes said more than words ever could.

When I used to get his shoes ready as he dressed for work, or help him with his socks, or gently massage his feet he never said a word. He never asked me to. But there was a peace in his silence. And that was enough.

But today, I realized they do. They stay. They live quietly in the corners of memory.

Just today, as I stepped out of a shop searching for my shoe, my son bent down and pulled it out for me. Such a small act yet it stayed with me. Because in that little moment, I saw a reflection of love.

When someone remembers what you enjoy and shares it – like my siblings sending me pictures of the changing seasons in their part of the world, it means so much.

When someone looks at the sky and thinks of you, that means something. Love isn’t always in the long conversations, or the deep exchanges. Sometimes it’s in these small, fleeting moments a quiet act, a little thought, a gentle gesture that weaves two hearts together.

A joke shared. A memory recalled. A small thing done with love. That’s what strengthens bonds. That’s what keeps love alive.

And through all these reflections, I realized my love language is acts of service. They stay with me the longest.

Even this morning, as I held a warm cup of tea, I remembered the aunty who used to help at our home when I was growing up . The way she would serve tea so lovingly maybe I never thanked her enough back then. But today, that memory brought a smile. A warmth. A quiet gratitude.

Life comes full circle, doesn’t it? We receive in different ways what we once gave.

And I think that’s the beauty of understanding love languages: to know what fills your heart, what makes you feel seen, and what lets you give love sincerely.

Knowing someone’s love language doesn’t just improve relationships, it deepens them. It helps us love the way they understand love, not just the way we do. And that, I think, is one of the purest forms of compassion.

Maybe it’s never too late to learn. But the earlier we do, the softer our hearts grow and the more beautiful our bonds become.

I started relearning Qur’anic recitation as an adult in 2020, and after studying the rules with different Tajweed courses in 2022, I felt an urge to recite the full Qur’an cover to cover to a teacher, and a dear friend referred me to an excellent Ustadha.

Ustadha asked me to send a recording of a Surah, and I was scared, as she might or might not select me, so I prepared a lot, recorded several times, sent the recording to a friend, got her feedback, and recorded again…

Alhamdulillah, she selected me, and then began this 3+ years of a long, sometimes difficult and sometimes easy journey of completing the recitation.

The class was twice a week, and I had to fill a Google Form to confirm that I had recited the Nisab (which was initially 2 pages) a minimum of 3 times with a Qari. I used the Al Muqri app to recite along with the Qari. My preference is Shaykh Ayman Suwaid or Shaykh Ibrahim Al Akhdar.

This practice was sometimes difficult, as I was working full-time (as a Professor of Management), and a few times I was able to practice and recite only 1 page.

Very soon, I realised it’s one thing to know the Tajweed rules and an entirely different thing to apply the rules in the recitation…. The first is memory-based, and the second is memory + skill + concentration + lots of dua.

I just could not get Tafkheem of Lafzul Jalalah correctly till almost 1.5 years!.

My first laam would be light, and the second one would be heavy, even though I knew I had to do Ist’eala and raise the entire back portion of my tongue. Then, suddenly one day, when I was practising with Ustadha, she had explained it with the diagram, and I was able to raise the entire back portion of the tongue (Aqsa Al Lisan). We were both so happy, Ustadha more than me (I think)..(^-^).

I had joined my Alimah course in 2022, and every 3 months I took a break from regular recitation because I would need to focus on my midterms and end-term examinations. At times, either of us was travelling or sick, or it was Ramadan, so we did miss many days, and as a result, it took 3+ years to complete our goal…Alhamdulillah.

In September 2025, I had the immense pleasure of meeting my dear Ustadha, and even though we had seen each other on Zoom, it was really different to meet in person, and Ustadha gifted me a Tafsir-Based Qur’an, in which the Tafsir is entirely Arabic. I told her, it doesn’t have any harakah, and she said, “Soon, you will be able to read correctly and understand fully.”

Ustadha always corrected me from a place of compassion and care, and with so much Sabr, that I have apologised many times for my mistakes, and she would only say, practice and do lots of dua.

The letters which have appeared and continue to appear in my dreams are ع and ض. There have been so many other teachers and friends who have helped me in this journey and continue to do so.

After the Khatam, Ustadha mentioned that when she thinks of me, the one word she associates with me is “Hard work,” and I was reminded of a comment in my year 1 of pre-University, when we used to pass around a slam book for all classmates to write a few words. A classmate had written, “You are a diligent student.” I didn’t know the meaning of the word, and I looked it up in the dictionary (good old days, before Google and AI….).

And then I was reflecting that SubhanAllah, I spent a total of 11 years pursuing secular education from pre-University to Ph.D., all the while, maybe just maybe, I should have started Qur’anic studies back then….

But we know Allah’s (SWT) plans are the best for us, and maybe all the time I spent in acquiring and using my secular studies was actually preparing for my Qur’anic studies.

Also, I am reminded of a book on verbs in Arabic, the title is “Arabic Verbs, Made Easy with Practice.” I feel it’s very important to develop a growth mindset as a Talibah of Ilm.

I close this reflection with immense gratitude, firstly to Allah (SWT), my parents (may they be blessed with Jannah), and all the teachers and friends who have corrected me, guided me, and tolerated me.

May Allah (SWT) reward them abundantly and make it a Hujjah for them in Aakhirah.

Because what I wrote never felt intellectual to me. It was just… feelings. Emotions. Thoughts I couldn’t keep inside. But over time, I realized it’s not just about feelings or emotions. It’s about how feelings resonate. Because every heart, no matter how learned or simple, understands the language of emotion.

Feelings don’t need to be eloquent. They don’t need to be polished. They just need to be real. And somehow, they find their way to other hearts that feel the same.

SubhanAllah, when I look back today and see that so many people connect with these words it’s beautiful. The way people come together through words, how they find comfort and reflection in something you’ve written… it’s almost sacred.

When I began writing, it was purely for myself to heal, to process, to breathe. But when I started sharing, those same words began to heal others too. And that’s when I truly fell in love with this journey.

There were moments, though, that hurt a little. Sometimes people would take my words, remove my name, and share them elsewhere. And for a while, I felt disheartened —why would someone take away my name, my small space of expression?

But then my Ustazah said something that changed my heart completely: “How does it matter, dear? If they are your words, let their fragrance reach the world.”

And I think that’s what words are meant to do to travel, to touch, to spread light beyond the name attached to them.

Last week, I met a few people who told me they wanted to meet me because of my writings. It made me pause. We often think it’s our looks, our presence, our personality that leaves a mark. But sometimes, it’s our words that connect souls long before we meet.

And that’s the power of words they transcend distance, they carry sincerity, they outlive moments.

And maybe we don’t have to be extraordinary ourselves, sometimes our words make us special to someone, somewhere, in ways we may never know.

So, from the depths of my heart thank you for being part of this journey with me. For reading, for feeling, and for walking with me through these reflections.

May Allah make our words a means of khair and healing for ourselves and for others.

We often look for emotional support from people very close to us family, our inner circle, the ones who know us best. And when they don’t understand us or fail to show up in the way we need, it hurts. It makes us wonder: If my closest ones can’t hold me in my storms, how will I ever survive the curveballs life throws at me?

And then we think: How can a distant friend sitting far away possibly be a source of emotional support?

But… why can’t she be?

There have been many times in my life when I’ve felt deeply alone even in a room full of people. I’ve felt unnoticed. Overlooked. Invisible.

And then there was yesterday. I was feeling overwhelmed, with thoughts swarming my mind and slowly pulling me into a whirlpool of sadness. And out of nowhere, my phone lit up. A message popped in from a friend:

"How are you feeling? How has your day been?"

It was the weekend, and we hadn’t seen each other in class. I told her I’d just woken up from a nap but still felt sad. And just like that, my emotions found a voice. I told her I was feeling heavy. Overwhelmed.

And even though she was busy, she replied: "Okay, let me get back home and I’ll call you."

That moment stopped me in my tracks. Because no matter how heavy everything felt, I realized how blessed I am. Blessed to have someone who checks on how I’m feeling. Blessed to have someone who listens. Blessed to have someone who values my emotions.

We spoke. I shared what was weighing on my heart. And in that conversation, I was reminded of something beautiful:

A righteous friend a well-wisher who truly cares can shift your entire perspective. She helped me see the brighter side of my life. The countless blessings Allah has poured into it. Not the rough patches that were consuming me, but the greener side that I often overlook.

And that’s when I realized, we don’t need a whole village to support us.

Sometimes, just one or two genuine people who truly care, who truly listen, who truly help us stay grounded that’s more than enough.

This is why sisterhood and friendship are so important. They are the emotional support and strength we all need.

It’s been a long journey for me to find those righteous friends. But I believe we all need to seek them, cherish them, and hold them close.

It reminds me of that beautiful moment during the Hijrah, when the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ and his closest companion Abu Bakr As-Siddiq رضي الله عنه were hiding in the Cave of Thawr . Abu Bakr stayed by the Prophet’s side with unwavering loyalty and love, even placing himself in harm’s way to protect him. And in that moment of fear, the Prophet ﷺ turned to his beloved friend and said:

إِذْ يَقُولُ لِصَاحِبِهِ لَا تَحْزَنْ إِنَّ اللَّهَ مَعَنَا

“When he said to his companion, ‘Do not grieve; indeed, Allah is with us.’” — [At-Tawbah 9:40]

That is friendship. That is love. That is loyalty.

Friendships like that are not just a comfort they are a blessing from Allah ﷻ. So when people say, “What can a distant friend even do for you?”. I smile. Because even from afar, she can remind you of the brighter side of your story.

💌~ To my sisters and friends who hold space for my emotions you are seen, you are cherished, and you are one of my greatest blessings.

The chaos around me was too loud, I just wanted to sleep one night and wake up as an adult the next morning.

Then came another season of life.

I had kids.

And as I looked at their beautiful, radiant faces, I often thought when will they grow up?

When will I finally get some space to breathe, to rest, to do something just for myself?

And then... they did.

The little ones who once held my fingers now walk ahead, taller, stronger, finding their own pace.

Their voices have changed. Their choices have changed.

And somewhere in this beautiful rush of life, I didn’t realize the season wasn’t just changing for them.

It was changing for my parents too. It’s not easy to see them grow old.

Those hands that once held mine so firmly now tremble while holding a cup of tea.

That voice which used to startle me with a single call now softens itself, pretending to be fine, so I don’t worry.

Life feels like a running train no station, no pause, no time to catch a breath. But honestly, I wish it would stop, Just for a while.

I want to sit with my father a little longer. Talk to my mother a bit more. Freeze time if that was ever possible.

Humans are strange and ungrateful creatures. Once, I wanted to grow up fast. Then I wanted my kids to grow fast.

But I never thought that with every wish for time to move faster, my parents’ time was moving too in the other direction. And that’s something I was never ready for.

I want to hold on a little longer. I want this running train to stop. But I know it won’t. It never does.

So maybe... maybe we start valuing now. The moment we have. The people we have.

Without rushing to change what’s coming next.

Maybe yes. Maybe that’s enough. From my heart to yours,

💌 ~ a gentle reminder to pause and stay a little longer where love still feels like home.

We think we’ve lost something forever.

But Allah, in His mercy, often gives it back in another way. What I thought was gone the bond of sisterhood, the warmth of those hugs He returned to me through my children. Every time they hold on to each other, I see His healing written in front of me.

Lately, I’ve been sitting with a certain emptiness.
It crept in quietly as my kids started to grow up. A space in my heart—my nest began to feel… empty.

Growing up, my world was filled by two people—my sisters.

They weren’t just my siblings, they were my everything: my friends, my confidants, my mirrors. I thought I knew them inside out, and they knew me the same way. We were halves of one soul divided into three bodies.

But life happened.
We got married. Responsibilities called. Borders and miles stood between us. And although we tried—phone calls, visits, messages—it was never the same. Distance always leaves its mark.

Every time we met and had to part again, every hug goodbye felt like the world was ending. As if this would be the last hug. I felt it in my bones—heavy, overwhelming, heartbreaking.

After eight long years, I finally got to hold them again. To feel that warmth, to breathe in that familiarity. Yet now, as a mother, my bond with my own sisters is different. Not gone, but buried under layers of duty, time, and circumstance.

But here is where Allah gave me a kind of healing:
Every time I see my sons hug each other as if they don’t want to let go, something inside me gets sutured. There’s this warmth I feel—a reminder that Allah has His own unique ways of healing us.

Now I realize the bond I shared with my sisters isn’t gone anywhere.
I see it grow between my kids.
This time I’m feeling it from another perspective, as if I’ve gifted that bond to them. And it feels good.

It warms me. It soothes me. It makes me happy.

And yet, there is still a corner of my heart—tiny, aching—that craves my sisters’ voices, their laughter, their hugs. After meeting countless people, after making new friends who know and appreciate me, nothing quite compares. Nothing fills that exact space.

So I make a prayer
oh Allah, let my children never grow apart the way life pulled me apart from my sisters. Let no borders, no responsibilities, no relationships ever separate them. Let their bond remain pure, strong, and lifelong.

Because every time they hug each other, I feel like I am hugging my sisters again.
And that is a beautiful feeling.

I was hesitant to write about something I struggle to practice. I must have read more than a dozen articles on self-love, yet somehow practicing it feels quite tedious.

Being someone with low self-esteem, I wondered what to do and how to write or work on this.

Naturally, I tried thinking thoughts that would make me love myself — I was searching for “reasons” to love myself.

And for some reason, my glance naturally went towards the mirror in my room, and I stared at my reflection for a couple of minutes. In that moment, a question popped into my mind:

"Why do I hate myself?"

I was quite surprised and taken aback, as I had never thought about it before.

So, my dear readers, today I want all of you to ask yourself this very same question — have you ever asked yourself “Why do I not love myself?” or “What makes me hate myself?”

If not, I urge you to do so immediately!

As I pondered on this, there were a dozen incidents in the back of my mind screaming: “We are the reason.”

Yet, in all of it, I realized that it had always been someone else’s perception of me that made me shrink.

For instance, I could’ve been doing the best thing, and yet a single comment from someone would break me…

Sounds a bit extreme, doesn’t it?

I wonder when and how I turned out like this.

Honestly, it felt quite miserable after the realization sank in — that I had placed my self-worth in the hands of others who have nothing to do with my life.

And for a moment I realized — this is it, I have to get out of this.

Since then, I've been staring at my reflection intensely in the mirror every day, considering it an act of quiet rebellion,

Just to fall in love with myself again. And it’s going great!

To you, my dear reader, who is perhaps going through this — there are days when you will struggle to love yourself, and the world around you will make you feel small, but remember this:

Your body — a sanctuary — isn’t just a collection of flesh and bones. It is a testament to you: your will, courage, pain, happiness, love, and every step you’ve taken in this beautiful journey called life.

Always hold yourself high and remember — those who haven’t walked a mile in your shoes or lived a day in your life should hold no power over your self-worth.

Look at nature. Look at flowers. We never walk into our garden and say, “Oh, wouldn’t that flower be so much prettier if it were taller? Or red instead of pink?” No, we don’t. Because nature was created perfect just as it is. And so are we.

We are part of nature. We are how we’re meant to be. We are perfect just as we are.

Allah beautifully says in the Qur’an:

لَقَدۡ خَلَقۡنَا ٱلۡإِنسَٰنَ فِيٓ أَحۡسَنِ تَقۡوِيمࣲ

Our Rabb, the Lord of the heavens and the earth and everything in between — the Most Perfect — has created you in the best of stature! SubhanAllah, just pause and let that sink in. The One who shaped mountains and rivers, who painted the skies and scattered the stars across the night, is the very One who fashioned you.

Do you realize what that means? Every detail about you — your face, your laughter, even your scars — carries meaning and wisdom.

We often stand in awe at sunsets, flowers, oceans, yet sadly fail to see that same beauty within ourselves. But Allah Himself has sworn that our design is of the best form. How could we then belittle what the Creator has honored?

Say — “How silly of me to forget I’m the love of my life.”

With a heart full of love and hope for you, I pray that wherever you are, your heart carries only love for yourself.

Wishing you, always, a safe return back to yourself.

I was reminiscing about some memories of my beloved uncle who passed away last year. While every memory of him holds a special place in my heart, the one that stood out the most was his fatherly embrace.

Before his passing, he went to Makkah for Hajj[the sacred pilgrimage]. When the news arrived that he had returned, each member of the family rushed to welcome him.

He greeted everyone with his usual cheerfulness, embracing one after another. I stood there quietly in the crowd, unsure if I'd get the chance to greet him. He noticed me, pulled me out from the crowd, and gave me that warm, fatherly hug I will never forget. He mumbled a number of duas. I was touched by his humility.

Twenty days later, he passed away. {Verily, to Allah we belong and to Him we return.}

After his passing, I kept thinking: When I pass away, what memory would I leave behind for those who came across me?

Would it be a good one?

I hope it would be a warm embrace, a gentle hug, and a heartfelt dua.

“I suppose in the end, the whole of life becomes an act of letting go. But what always hurts the most is not taking a moment to say goodbye.”

The fragility of life is such that it can cease to exist in a moment. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that after death, people don’t remember your achievements—they remember the warmth and kindness you gave them.

The Prophet (ﷺ) said:

"Whoever was given his share of gentleness, then he has been given a share of good. And whoever has been prevented from his share of gentleness, then he has been prevented from his share of good."

Jami` at-Tirmidhi 2013

My dear readers,

I hope you realize the love you have in your heart is there for a reason. Never hold it back. A warm embrace, a kind word, a beautiful dua—they go a long way, more than one can ever imagine.

The Prophet (ﷺ) also said:

"Allah is Gentle and loves gentleness in all things."

Sunan Ibn Majah 3689

So how about we start expressing this gentleness with our most beloved ones—our family?

Let’s begin at home—with those who are often the closest yet most taken for granted.

How about kissing them goodbye and sending them off with duas instead?

I hope you realise, Your love might have brought someone their fondest memory, their smile in a dark moment, their quiet joy.

I pray that everyone who comes across you will depart with a smile.

To be a receiver of love is magical—but oh, what an honour it is to be the giver of love.

Truly, it is the greatest gift.

Imagine people reminiscing your hug when you're gone, that kind word, that last beautiful moment. Why don't we do it, hmm?

I'd also like to share the anatomy of a hug with you to encourage you :)

May Allah grant all of us a noble ending—one that leaves behind warmth, duas, and love in the hearts of those we touch. Ameen

A strong relationship with Allah is the foundation of a meaningful and peaceful life. No matter how busy or distracted we become, our hearts will always find true contentment in remembering Allah. The closer we are to Him, the more clarity we gain about our purpose, and the stronger we become in facing life’s challenges.

Allah says in the Quran:

Strengthening our bond with Allah is a lifelong journey, but it begins with conscious effort and small, consistent steps.

Signs of a Weak Connection with Allah

Recognizing the signs of a weak connection can help us take the right steps to improve. Some of these signs include:

• Feeling distant or disconnected from salah (prayer).

• Losing motivation to do good deeds.

• Being easily overwhelmed by worldly worries.

• Feeling restless despite having material comforts.

• Neglecting the Quran and supplications.

If we notice these signs in ourselves, it is a reminder that we need to renew and strengthen our bond with our Creator.

Steps to Strengthen Your Relationship with Allah

1. Establish Sincere and Consistent Salah

Salah is the most direct way to connect with Allah. It is a daily reminder of our purpose and dependence on Him.

• Make an effort to pray on time.

• Improve your focus by understanding the meanings of the prayers.

• Use your sujood (prostration) to make heartfelt du’a.

Allah says:

2. Increase Your Dhikr

Dhikr keeps the heart alive and strengthens our awareness of Allah.

• Recite SubhanAllah, Alhamdulillah, Allahu Akbar daily.

• Say Astaghfirullah frequently to seek forgiveness.

• Make La ilaha illa Allah a regular part of your day.

The Prophet ﷺ said:

'The example of the one who remembers Allah and the one who does not is like the living and the dead.' (Bukhari)

3. Build a Stronger Relationship with the Quran

The Quran is Allah’s message to us, a guide for every aspect of life.

• Read a few verses daily, even if it’s just 5 minutes.

• Reflect on the meanings and apply them to your life.

• Listen to Quran recitation to soothe your heart.

Allah says:

4. Make Sincere Du’a

Du’a is our direct communication with Allah. No matter how big or small our concerns, turning to Allah brings comfort.

• Ask Allah for guidance and strength in your daily life.

• Make du’a with sincerity and conviction.

• Trust that Allah hears and responds in the best way.

The Prophet ﷺ said:

'Du’a is worship.' (Tirmidhi)

5. Surround Yourself with Righteous Company

The people around us influence our faith and mindset. Being in good company helps strengthen our connection with Allah.

• Spend time with those who remind you of Allah.

• Join Islamic gatherings and beneficial discussions.

• Limit time spent with distractions that weaken your faith.

The Prophet ﷺ said:

'A person is upon the religion of his close friend.' (Abu Dawood)

A Reflection Exercise for This Week

Take a few moments every night to reflect on your relationship with Allah. Ask yourself:

• Did I pray with sincerity and focus today?

• How often did I remember Allah throughout the day?

• What small step can I take to strengthen my bond with Him tomorrow?

Write down one action you will commit to improving this week.

A Final Thought

Our connection with Allah is the most valuable relationship we have. It gives meaning to our existence, peace to our hearts, and strength to overcome any difficulty. By taking small but sincere steps, we can strengthen our faith and experience the true tranquility that comes from being close to our Creator.

May Allah guide us all to strengthen our relationship with Him and grant us a heart filled with His remembrance.

Ameen.

1. Understand Your Limits:

Allah has not burdened anyone beyond their capacity (Surah Al-Baqarah 2:286).

Know your own limits in terms of time, energy, and resources. Overextending yourself may lead to stress and neglect of your own responsibilities.

2. Clarify Intentions:

Ask yourself if the help you are providing is for the sake of Allah or out of a sense of obligation due to pressure. Actions done purely for Allah's pleasure will have barakah and won’t make you feel used.

3. Communicate Clearly:

Politely but firmly communicate your boundaries. For example, say,

"I would love to help, but I have my own commitments that I cannot compromise on."

4. Learn to Say No:

It’s okay to say no when the request is unreasonable or compromises your rights. This does not make you selfish; it is a form of self-respect.

5. Seek Guidance:

Always make dua for wisdom and guidance. Ask Allah to help you balance between helping others and safeguarding yourself.

6. Consult Trusted People:

If you're unsure, speak to a teacher, counselor, or elder who can give you advice based on your situation.

Remember, helping others should not come at the cost of your own well-being or priorities.

Prioritize tasks wisely and seek reward from Allah for your sincere intentions. Help others with sincerity, but never at the cost of your well-being. Setting boundaries is not selfish—it ensures you can continue to serve in a way that is sustainable and pleasing to Allah.

May Allah grant us wisdom in balancing kindness with self-respect.

Ameen

Self-awareness is not just about recognizing our strengths, but also about identifying our weaknesses. Islam teaches us that our journey to becoming better Muslims begins with acknowledging our flaws and striving to overcome them. The nafs (self) has inclinations that can lead us astray if not controlled, but with Allah’s guidance, we can work on refining our character.

The Struggle of the Nafs

Allah has created the human self with both good and bad inclinations. The Quran mentions:

This means that every person has weaknesses, but those who recognize and purify their souls will succeed.

Common Inner Weaknesses

1. Arrogance and Pride (Kibr)

Pride is one of the biggest barriers between a person and Allah’s guidance. The Prophet ﷺ said:

'No one who has an atom’s weight of pride in his heart will enter Paradise.' (Muslim)

To overcome pride:

• Regularly remind yourself that all success is from Allah.

• Be humble in speech and actions.

• Thank Allah for every blessing and never look down on others.

2. Anger and Lack of Patience

Uncontrolled anger can damage relationships and lead to regretful actions.

The Prophet ﷺ said:

'The strong person is not the one who can wrestle others. Rather, the strong person is the one who controls himself when he is angry.' (Bukhari & Muslim)

To control anger:

• Seek refuge in Allah by saying “A'udhu billahi min ash-shaytan ir-rajim.”

• Change your position (sit if you are standing, lie down if you are sitting).

• Perform wudu to cool down your emotions.

3. Envy (Hasad)

Envy eats away at good deeds just as fire consumes wood.

The Prophet ﷺ said:

'Beware of envy, for it devours good deeds just as fire devours wood.' (Abu Dawood)

To overcome envy:

• Make dua for the person you feel envious of.

• Focus on your own blessings and be grateful.

• Remember that Allah’s wisdom in distributing blessings is always just.

4. Laziness in Worship

Procrastination and laziness prevent us from doing good deeds.

The Prophet ﷺ used to make dua:

'O Allah, I seek refuge in You from laziness and helplessness.' (Bukhari)

To overcome laziness:

• Start with small, consistent acts of worship.

• Make dua for motivation and energy.

• Surround yourself with righteous companions who encourage you.

Steps to Overcome Inner Weaknesses

Self-Reflection and Accountability

Take time to reflect on your daily actions. Ask yourself:

• Did I speak with kindness today?

• Did I react with patience or anger?

• What can I improve in my character?

A person who regularly assesses themselves will grow in self-awareness and strive for self-improvement.

2. Seeking Forgiveness and Repentance

We all make mistakes, but the key is to turn back to Allah.

The Prophet ﷺ said:

'All of the children of Adam are sinners, but the best of sinners are those who repent.' (Tirmidhi)

• Make istighfar daily to cleanse your heart.

• Repent sincerely and make an effort to change.

3. Seeking Knowledge and Guidance

Islamic knowledge helps in overcoming weaknesses. The more we learn, the more we understand ourselves and improve.

• Study the lives of the Prophets and their patience.

• Listen to beneficial Islamic lectures and reminders.

• Read the Quran with reflection and apply its teachings.

A Reflection Exercise for This Week

This week, identify one personal weakness and work on improving it. Reflect on:

• What is a habit or trait I need to work on?

• What steps can I take to overcome it?

• How can I replace it with a good habit?

Make a dua asking Allah to help you in this journey of self-purification.

A Final Thought

Recognizing our weaknesses is a sign of strength. Islam teaches us that true success lies in purifying our hearts and constantly striving to improve. By seeking Allah’s help, making small efforts daily, and practicing self-awareness, we can overcome our inner struggles and grow into better Muslims.

May Allah grant us the strength to recognize our weaknesses and the wisdom to overcome them.

Ameen.

When you are a child, as a sign of love, you are extremely dutiful and obedient to your parents. When you are a sibling, you express love differently—you become their rock, their go-to person for everything. When you are a mother, you ensure your children are cared for and pampered.

What I concluded from this is that when people want to express love, they do so by performing actions that please their loved ones. Interesting, right?

The notion of love has become about doing what the other person likes. This is definitely good, but I have always felt that while doing what the other person likes is important, perhaps—just perhaps—a better approach would be avoiding what they dislike.

A Scenario to Explain

Imagine you love desserts, and someone special brings you your favorite treat from a long distance, knowing how much you love it. Instantly, you feel overjoyed, as if you’re on cloud nine!

But then, in front of everyone, they say, “Oh, look at how she eats these desserts like she has never eaten before!”

That one comment suddenly overshadows the happiness of receiving the dessert. The effort they made to bring it for you fades into the background, replaced by the sting of those words.

According to research, humans tend to remember painful experiences more vividly than positive or affectionate ones. So, I had to shift my idea of love—from pleasing others to not displeasing them. Instead of just doing what they like, I realized it’s equally, if not more, important to avoid doing what they dislike.

Applying This to Our Relationship with Allah

Now, let’s think about how we apply this concept to our relationship with Allah.

Usually, when we want to get closer to Allah, we start increasing our dhikr, praying extra nawafil, and giving more sadaqah. Our major focus is on increasing good deeds. This approach is definitely great and highly rewarding.

But maybe we can start from another perspective too.

What if, instead of only increasing good deeds, we also focused on avoiding actions that displease Allah?

• I will increase my dhikr, but at the same time, I will stop wasting my time scrolling endlessly.

• I will increase my Qur’an recitation, but I will also stop listening to music.

When we stop sinning, it naturally leads us to do more good.

The Fear That Brings Us Closer to Allah

Allah beautifully says in the Qur’an:

In this verse, Allah assures us that the best reward is for those who fear Him. Fear is often seen as a negative emotion, but what does it mean here? From my understanding, it is the kind of fear that prevents us from sinning. It is the fear of losing Allah’s love by indulging in wrongdoing. It is a fear of Allah’s anger, His wrath, and the fear of death while still in sin—of leaving this world while we have not repented. Above all, it is the fear of losing Allah altogether, of being distant from Him due to our own actions.

Seeking Allah’s Help to Overcome Weakness

As humans, it is definitely hard to stop sinning unless Allah helps us. We can only stop sinning if, and only if, Allah aids us. So, whenever you feel weak or find yourself struggling, turn to your Lord immediately. Seek His help with a simple yet powerful dua:

إِيَّاكَ نَعْبُدُ وَإِيَّاكَ نَسْتَعِينُ يَا رَبّ

"You alone we worship, and You alone we ask for help, O Lord."

Remember, man was created weak, and we may slip up from time to time. But Allah sees our sincerity in the effort.

Keep trying, keep growing.

May Allah bless us with sound wisdom and guidance. Ameen.

Every action we do carries a weight beyond its outward appearance. In Islam, what truly defines our deeds is not just the action itself, but the intention (niyyah) behind it. The sincerity of our intention determines whether our actions bring us closer to Allah or become meaningless in the sight of the Hereafter.

The Importance of Intention in Islam

The Prophet Muhammad ﷺ said:

'Indeed, actions are judged by intentions, and every person will get the reward according to what he intended.' (Bukhari & Muslim)

This powerful hadith reminds us that two people can perform the exact same action, but their rewards can be completely different. One may do it sincerely for Allah’s pleasure and earn immense reward, while another may do it for praise or personal benefit and get nothing in the Hereafter.

Allah reminds us in the Quran:

How Intention Shapes Our Actions

Niyyah is not just about verbalizing an intention; it is about setting a conscious purpose in our hearts. Here’s how intention transforms our daily lives:

1. Everyday Tasks Become Acts of Worship

• If you cook for your family with the intention of earning Allah’s reward, it becomes an act of ibadah.

• If you seek knowledge to benefit others and bring yourself closer to Allah, your learning is rewarded.

• If you work to provide for your family while trusting in Allah, your efforts are blessed.

2. Protection from Showing Off (Riya')

• Sometimes, we start with a pure intention, but later, we seek validation from people.

• To guard against riya’ (seeking praise), we should constantly renew our intentions and remind ourselves: 'Am I doing this for Allah or for others?'

3. Consistency in Good Deeds

• When our intention is sincere, we remain committed even when no one is watching.

• We continue worshipping Allah regardless of challenges because we seek His pleasure, not worldly recognition.

Practical Ways to Purify Our Intentions

1. Begin Every Action with a Clear Purpose

Before doing anything, pause for a moment and ask yourself:

• Why am I doing this?

• Am I seeking Allah’s pleasure or something else?

• Would I still do this if no one saw me?

Making a habit of setting your intention will train your heart to seek Allah’s approval above all.

2. Constantly Renew Your Intentions

Intentions can change over time, so we must renew them often. For example:

• If you started a task for the right reason but later feel pride or seek praise, pause and correct your intention.

• Remind yourself that Allah alone grants success, and all actions should be for His sake.

3. Hide Your Good Deeds

A beautiful way to keep your intentions pure is to do good deeds in secret.

• Pray voluntary prayers when no one is around.

• Give charity without announcing it.

• Make dua for others without them knowing.

The Prophet ﷺ said:

'The best charity is that given in secret.' (Bukhari)

When we do good only for Allah’s sake, it strengthens sincerity in our hearts.

4. Make Dua for Sincerity

Even the most righteous people of the past feared insincerity and would pray:

'O Allah, make all my deeds righteous and make them purely for Your sake, and do not let anyone else have a share in them.'

Regularly asking Allah to purify our hearts keeps us conscious of our intentions.

A Reflection Exercise for This Week

Try this small habit every morning:

• Before starting your day, take a moment to set your intentions.

• Say: 'Ya Allah, I dedicate my actions today for Your sake. Guide me to do what pleases You.'

• Throughout the day, remind yourself to check your intentions, especially before major tasks.

A Final Thought

A sincere heart leads to a fulfilling life. When we purify our intentions and make our actions solely for Allah, we find peace, barakah, and immense reward. In the end, our deeds will be judged not by how much we did, but by the sincerity with which we did them.

May Allah purify our hearts and make all our deeds sincerely for His sake.

Ameen.

So many questions, right?

My inspiration for today's newsletter was born from these very thoughts. I believe we can all agree that we are not the same people we were a year ago. We change.

Some change every single day, some over months, and some with the seasons. Life happens, and not everyone remains the same. The very nature of life is impermanence—nothing in this world is permanent.

The Power of Change & Forgiveness

These days, it has become hard for us to forgive others. One mistake, one incident—and we stop talking to people for ages. But is that fair? People change. Today's enemy might be tomorrow’s ally, and today’s ally might be tomorrow’s enemy. Life is unpredictable. So be gentle—with yourself and with others.

Anas (radiyAllahu 'anhu) narrated that the Messenger of Allah ﷺ said:

Allah is kind and loves kindness, and He gives for it what He does not give for harshness." (Sahih Muslim)

If Allah, in His infinite mercy, loves kindness, then shouldn't we strive to be kind as well?

Recently, I had a get-together with my friends, and it was a wonderful experience. As I reminisced about my old days, I noticed the subtle changes in myself. Back in school, I didn’t value friendships the way I should have. But meeting my friends after all this time made me realize how much I’ve changed—and so have they.

This realization made me appreciate the beauty of being human. I was reminded of the fragile nature of humanity, which is constantly changing.

Grace for Ourselves & Others

Our experiences in life are here for us to learn and embrace change. If we fail to understand and have empathy for one another, it will wipe out our very essence of being human.

As humans, we continuously grow and evolve. If we judge and label someone based on a single interaction, how fair is that? Just as we are shaped by our experiences, so are others. If we seek grace for our own mistakes, shouldn’t we extend the same generosity to others?

What if my old friends had treated me exactly as I had treated them back then? Instead, they welcomed me with warmth, and for that, I am forever grateful. Their kindness reminded me of the importance of having an open heart.

It has become far too easy to label someone based on a moment of weakness. But let’s ask ourselves: if everyone judged us based on our worst moments, would that be fair? No one is perfect. If we don't learn to be gentle with each other, then who will?

Aisha (radiyAllahu 'anha) narrated that the Prophet ﷺ said:

Indeed, Allah loves gentleness in all affairs." (Sahih al-Bukhari & Muslim)

Final Reflection

Let’s strive to be among those who choose kindness. Let’s forgive one another, just as we hope for Allah’s mercy.

May Allah bless us with a gentle and forgiving heart. Ameen.

One of the greatest acts of self-awareness in Islam is muhasabah—holding oneself accountable before Allah. A person who does not reflect on their actions, intentions, and spiritual state is like someone walking blindly through life. Islam teaches us to pause, reflect, and assess ourselves before we are held accountable on the Day of Judgment.

Why is Self-Accountability Important?

Umar ibn Al-Khattab رضي الله عنه said: 'Take account of yourselves before you are taken into account, and weigh your deeds before they are weighed for you.'

This means that a believer should always be aware of their deeds, words, and intentions. When we actively examine our hearts and actions, we become more conscious of our relationship with Allah and improve ourselves before it is too late.

Allah reminds us in the Quran:

How to Practice Muhasabah (Self-Accountability) in Daily Life

1. Reflect on Your Intentions

The Prophet ﷺ said:

'Indeed, actions are judged by intentions.' (Bukhari & Muslim)

Before starting anything, ask yourself:

• Why am I doing this?

• Is it purely for Allah, or am I seeking praise, recognition, or personal gain?

Being honest about our intentions helps us purify them and refocus on what truly matters.

2. Review Your Daily Actions

Take a few minutes every night to assess your day:

• Did I perform my salah with sincerity and presence of heart?

• Was I kind and just in my dealings with others?

• Did I fall into sins—backbiting, anger, wasting time?

A simple habit of reflection allows us to make corrections and seek forgiveness before small mistakes turn into lifelong habits.

3. Seek Forgiveness Often

Even the most righteous people make mistakes, but what sets them apart is their willingness to repent. The Prophet ﷺ, who was free of sin, would seek forgiveness more than 70 times a day! (Bukhari)

• Say Astaghfirullah sincerely whenever you realize a mistake.

• Make du’a for Allah to help you improve.

• Do extra good deeds to erase past sins.

4. Keep a Self-Reflection Journal

Writing down your thoughts can be a powerful tool for self-awareness. Try this exercise:

• Write one thing you did well today and thank Allah for it.

• Write one thing you need to improve and make a plan to work on it.

This will help you see your progress over time and motivate you to become better.

5. Surround Yourself with the Right People

The people we spend time with influence our mindset. If we are surrounded by those who remind us of Allah, we will naturally stay on the path of self-improvement.

The Prophet ﷺ said:

'A person is upon the religion of his close friend, so let one of you look at whom he befriends.' (Abu Dawood & Tirmidhi)

Ask yourself:

• Do my friends encourage me towards goodness or distract me from Allah?

• Do I benefit others with my presence, or do I lead them into idle talk and distractions?

A Reflection Exercise for This Week

Take 5-10 minutes each night before bed and ask yourself:

• Did I fulfill my obligations towards Allah today?

• Did I treat my family, friends, and colleagues with kindness and justice?

• Did I avoid sins and bad habits?

• What can I do better tomorrow?

A Final Thought

Self-accountability is the key to self-awareness. If we don’t check ourselves regularly, our hearts can become hardened, and we may lose sight of our true purpose. But with daily reflection, sincere repentance, and a desire to improve, we can stay on the path that pleases Allah and leads to success in both this world and the Hereafter.

May Allah grant us the ability to hold ourselves accountable before we are held accountable.

Ameen.