What’s the hardest decision you’ve ever had to make? Why?
When my heart grew tired of being blamed and broken, I realised that walking away was not selfish, it was worship, because anything that pulls me from Allah is never worth holding on to.
The hardest decision I have ever had to make was walking away, distancing myself from people I once believed had my back. It was a year of shedding and releasing, letting go of pouring into leaking cups, old patterns, stopping people-pleasing, and refusing to be manipulated into believing I was the problem, especially when others’ flaws came to light. I realised those relationships did not nurture my spirit, instead, they drained it, distorting my identity and weakening my connection with myself, and with Allah.
This decision was far from easy. It meant confronting pain, disappointment, and the quiet ache of solitude. It meant unlearning the habit of seeking approval, of putting others’ comfort before my own peace. I had to acknowledge that despite love, closeness or history, some relationships can be toxic, they hijack your self-worth, distort your reality, and keep you stuck in cycles of guilt and self-blame. Walking away felt like admitting that it is okay to outgrow people. It felt like watching a chapter end. But in that ending, I found a glimmer of freedom, self-respect, and though fragile at first, a path toward healing.
I chose distance not out of spite, but out of self-preservation, not out of hatred, but out of the need to protect my soul from harm. It was a way to safeguard my mental and emotional health. And in doing so, ironically, I rediscovered a deeper love for myself, and a stronger desire to draw closer to Allah, rather than being pulled away by toxic bonds.
Why It Felt Like the Hardest Decision..
Because of the pain and grief.. Letting go meant mourning what I thought I had.. Loyalty, acceptance, belonging. It meant accepting that some people can hurt you more than they heal you. That grief is not always loud, sometimes it echoes silently in your chest, in quiet moments of reflection. Because of guilt and doubt.. For so long I had been conditioned to believe that criticism, blame or shame were my fault. When I finally decided to step away, part of me feared..
Am I overreacting? .. Am I wrong to choose distance?”
The guilt weighed heavy, especially when memory tried to paint the past with brighter colors. Because of loneliness and uncertainty.. Relationships, even painful ones, provide a sense of familiarity. Choosing distance can feel like stepping into a void, you trade known toxicity for unknown solitude, and you wonder whether you will find something healthier on the other side.
Yet, as painful as it was, choosing to distance myself, was also the bravest thing I could have done. It was an act of self-respect. It was a statement..
“I matter. My peace matters. My dignity matters.”
Walking Away With Faith.. An Islamic Perspective..
In Islam, maintaining ties of kinship and relationships is a blessed act. The bonds of family and companionship are honored, and cutting them off is generally discouraged, especially severing ties entirely.
However, Islamic teachings also recognise that relationships are not always beneficial. When company threatens your faith, your mental health, or your ability to live righteously, distance, while still upholding basic respect and avoiding severing ties completely, can be justified, even commendable.
The scholarly interpretation of “keeping ties” does not always require constant closeness, it can mean avoiding harmful proximity while still being ready to help or respond if needed. The wisdom behind choosing good companions and avoiding toxic ones is repeatedly emphasised.. A “good companion” helps you grow in righteousness, whereas “bad company” is described as “deadly poison” that corrupts one’s faith and character. Thus, distancing oneself from those who damage your spiritual and emotional well-being, to protect your connection with Allah, can be seen as a valid act of self-preservation and self-care.
So by stepping away, not out of anger or hatred, but out of pain, self-awareness, and a desire for peace, you have aligned, in part, with the spirit of these teachings, to surround yourself with what draws you closer to Allah, and to guard yourself against what drags you away.
What I Learnt.. And What I Hope For..
Walking away taught me that my worth is not tied to others’ approval. I learned that sometimes love is not enough, respect, honesty, mutual care, integrity, emotional safety matter more. I learnt how to hear my own voice again. I learnt that saying “no” or “farewell” to toxicity is not betrayal, but liberation.
But more than that, I found a hopeful way forward, a path where my relationship, with myself and with Allah, can heal. I hope to rebuild with people whose presence brings peace, sincerity, kindness, and mutual respect. I hope to become someone who honours my worth and protects my peace, without guilt. And I hope to grow, inwardly and spiritually, free from manipulation, shame, and self-doubt.
To end, I will say this much..
The hardest decision I ever made, walking away from people I thought were my support, was the hardest because it confronted my illusions, my fears, my longings. It made me face pain and uncertainty. But in that difficulty, I found clarity, self-love, and faith. I recognised that true strength lies not in silent suffering, but in the courage to protect your heart, your dignity, and your connection with Allah.
If there is one thing I have come to understand, it is this, sometimes the most painful goodbyes lead to the most profound hellos.. To a version of you that is freer, kinder, and more aligned to your truth. And, InshAllah, more aligned to the path Allah wants for you, one of peace, sincerity, and spiritual integrity.