Tag: forgiveness

Access Denied 🚫

It did not start with me becoming distant.

It started years ago.

As a child. As a daughter.

In a house where entitlement lived louder than gratitude.

Where sacrifices were expected, not appreciated.

Where expenses were shifted.

Where responsibilities were absorbed by one woman who should have been protected instead of drained.

I grew up watching my mother. Mother children she never bore.

Fitting bills that were never hers to fit.

Carrying weight that was never meant for her tender shoulders.

Furnishing needs that were never her responsibility.

Stretching herself thin so others could live comfortably in their entitlement.

And somewhere in all of that, my future was treated like it could wait.

Like it was optional.

Like I would “be fine.”

Do you know what that does to a child?

It takes away her voice, silences her in a very raw way. It emotionally and mentally makes her small.

It makes her believe her dreams are negotiable.

I was pushed aside in ways subtle enough to deny, but loud enough to shape me. Made to feel like my aspirations were secondary. Like my security could be sacrificed. Like my voice did not carry weight.

And for years, I internalised it.

I apologised for wanting more.

I minimised my hurt.

I convinced myself that loyalty meant silence.

But now, going through my own struggles, navigating financial strain, fighting battles that feel too heavy some days, I cannot even begin to imagine what my mother carried.

The weight. The pressure.

How burdened she must have been, silently holding it all together while slowly breaking underneath it.

She was like a pressure cooker, stuffed and stuffed, the lid forced shut, left on the stove, for far too long.

And then came that moment.

The silent explosion. And there I was.

Robbed yet again.

Robbed of more time with my mother.

The exhaustion. The quiet heartbreak.

The things she must have swallowed to protect everyone else.

And now I understand something clearly..

A lot was fabricated.

Narratives were built to protect entitlement.

Stories were twisted to preserve comfort.

Blame was redirected to maintain control.

So let me make this crystal clear.

I do not owe my family a thing.

However, there are debts owed.

There are answers required.

There are truths that will no longer be buried under “keep the peace.”

Firstly, let me clear up this self-created misconception, because the way people exaggerate starts an itch in a place that cannot be reached to scratch 😂

I am not sitting with a bank balance bursting at the seams.

I am not secretly thriving whilst pretending to struggle.

I am, however repaying my debt to ALLAH.

I am surviving what was left behind.

I am rebuilding what was compromised.

And I will no longer apologise for stating that.

From here on out, I will speak my truth.

Controlled. Measured. But unfiltered.

And yes, sadly it will sting.

Because the truth is bitter to those who benefited from the lie.

What you do unto others eventually rests at your own feet.

That is not revenge. That is divine balance.

And NO..

I have never wished ill on the family ALLAH chose for me. I never will.

I am grateful.

Not for the pain. But for the lessons.

Because those lessons shaped me.

They taught me discernment.

They taught me boundaries.

They taught me how to stand without trembling.

But hear me clearly..

I will not keep digging at my scars just to validate someone else’s pain.

I will not keep apologising for being right.

And I will never again allow myself to be treated like that oppressed, afraid little girl I once was.

That girl still exists.

But she now stands behind unbreakable glass.

Watching. Observing.

Seeing how ALLAH turns tables without her lifting a finger.

I cannot take credit for what ALLAH has decreed.

There were many chapters I did not understand whilst I was living them, chapters filled with confusion, exhaustion, misplaced loyalty, and silent suffering.

But when you step back, you see the pattern.

The book may close.

But a new one is released every time you make a wise decision after brutal lessons.

And I have made mine.

A new journey began the day I stopped shrinking.

It is a path I must walk alone for now.

Not bitter. Not angry. Just aware.

Until ALLAH writes the next chapter.

Access Denied is not hostility.

It is protection.

It is me finally choosing forward, step by step, without dragging history behind me.

To my family, I wholeheartedly thank you.

Not because the pain brought happiness.

But because it gave me courage.

Courage to leap.

Courage to leave comfort.

Courage to stop living small.

And I have never been happier or more at peace and content.

The oppressed little girl, she grew up.

She does not ask for permission anymore.

Because ALLAH already signed off on her permission slip.

And for as long as ALLAH is pleased with me, nothing formed against me and nothing meant to break me will succeed. Except by HIS will.

I will walk this path with grace.

And obedience to ALLAH.

“The Ones That Broke Me Created This Version.”

What experiences in life helped you grow the most?

THE ONE’S THAT BROKE ME.. RE-SHAPED ME..

Not the pretty milestones. Not the celebrations. Not the moments where everything made sense and people clapped for me. It was the abandonment. The silence. The betrayal. The nights I cried into my pillow so no one would hear the crack in my voice. The months I survived on fumes, emotionally, financially, spiritually and still somehow woke up for Tahjud.

Growth did not come wrapped in blessings. It came wrapped in disappointment.

The biggest growth came from realising that the people I would bleed for would not bruise for me. That when I needed covering, I was exposed. When I needed protection, I was told to be patient. When I needed provision, I was handed excuses. That hurt did not just sting.. It rearranged me.

I grew the most the day I stopped begging humans for what only ALLAH controls.

When I finally understood what it meant when ALLAH says in the Qur’an..

“And whoever relies upon ALLAH, then HE is sufficient for him.” (65:3).

I had been saying I trusted HIM, but I was still trying to control outcomes. I would make du’a and then obsess. Hand it over and then grab it back. That internal tug-of-war exhausted me more than the actual problem.

Another thing that grew me?..

ILLNESS..

When your body humbles you, your ego does not survive. Pain strips you. It teaches you patience in a way comfort never can. When your spine will not allow you to pray 20 rakaats and you are on the floor fighting tears because sujood is the only place you feel safe.. THAT CHANGES YOU.. That makes you understand that worship is not about performance. It is about surrender.

FINANCIAL STRESS GREW ME TOO..

Living hand to mouth. Maxed credit cards. Banks calling. Knowing that money that could ease your burden exists, but is not in your hands. That kind of stress can either rot your heart or refine it. I had moments of anger, oh yes I most certainly did. Did I act on that anger, no I chose not too. I had moments where I questioned fairness. But then I realised something heavy..

Provision does not define worth. Dependence does.

And every time I thought I was drowning, ALLAH threw me something, not always money, but strength. A kind word. A shift in perspective. A reminder that rizq is not just cash.. It is health, iman, clarity, protection from things I do not even see.

THE HARDEST PART OF GROWTH CAME FROM LETTING GO..

Letting go of people who felt familiar but were not safe. Letting go of conversations I desperately wanted to have. Letting go of being understood. Drawing boundaries even when my hands shook. Saying,

“For my peace, I am drawing the line here,”

And meaning it. That was not weakness. That was evolution.

And then there is RAMADAAN..

Standing in Taraweeh when my body is aching and burnt out, but my soul is desperate. Choosing ALLAH over distraction. Choosing silence over revenge. Choosing dignity over drama. Choosing sabr when my nafs wants to scream. This month is not just cleansing me.. It is exposing me to myself.

The truth is, I grew the most when I realised I do not have to chase what is written for me.

What is mine will not miss me. What misses me was never mine.

I grew when I stopped seeing myself as a victim of circumstances and started seeing myself as a woman being sharpened. Tested, yes. But also elevated. Refined. Protected from people and paths that would have destroyed me slowly.

I AM NOT WHO I WAS A YEAR AGO..

I do not panic the same. I do not beg the same. I do not attach the same. I do not tolerate the same. I do not love recklessly anymore. I love with awareness. I give with boundaries. I trust, but I verify. And above all, I return everything to ALLAH before it has a chance to poison me.

The experiences that grew me the most were the ones that made me feel like I would not survive them.

AND YET HERE I AM.. SOFTER WITH ALLAH.. HARDER WITH PEOPLE.. CLEARER WITH MYSELF..

“My Weapon of Choice Is GOD”..

There comes a point in a person’s life where strength, in its earthly sense, simply is not enough anymore. You discover that willpower fractures, logic fails, people disappear, and your own heart becomes a battlefield you never asked to fight on. It is in those raw places, the places where your soul feels stripped bare and trembling, that a deeper truth rises from the ruins..

My weapon of choice is God.

This is not a slogan. It is not a poetic line meant to sound brave. It is a declaration forged in pain, in surrender, in nights when sleep avoids you and faith is the only thing that holds your bones together.

When you say My weapon of choice is God, what you are really saying is,

“I no longer fight with my ego. I no longer fight with my tongue. I no longer fight with anger or revenge or the need to prove myself. I fight with the presence of the One who sees all.”

It takes a different kind of strength to reach that place, a strength that grows in silence, in tears, in sujood/prostration, in the invisible hours where only ALLAH knows the storms you are trying to survive.

When Life Becomes War, Faith Becomes Armour..

Life has a way of wounding a person in places the world cannot see. A betrayal here, a disappointment there, a door slammed shut, a heart shattered. You begin to understand why Allah says,

“And Allah is the Best of Protectors”

Because human protection is fragile, conditional, temporary. Human beings shield you until it becomes inconvenient.

GOD shields you because He loves you.

Choosing GOD as your weapon does not mean you no longer feel hurt. It means that even in the hurt, you remain guided. You remain anchored. The battlefield does not disappear, you simply walk onto it with a force greater than anything that stands against you.

Because when GOD is your weapon, your wounds may bleed, but they do not break you.

The Silent Power of Surrender..

Surrender is misunderstood. People think surrender means giving up, collapsing, becoming passive. But when you surrender to GOD, you are not kneeling to defeat, you are kneeling to the One who writes victories.

It is a different kind of courage to say,

“I do not know how to fix this. I do not know why this happened. But I trust the Author of my destiny.”

There is a divine power in handing the sword to the One who never misses a target. The One who knows every plot against you, every word spoken behind your back, every betrayal formed in silence.

People see situations from the outside.

ALLAH sees the unseen intentions, the hidden harms, the poison you never realised you were swallowing.

And so sometimes GOD fights battles by removing you, isolating you, delaying you, or redirecting you, not to punish you, but to protect you.

A Heart That Fights with GOD Never Loses..

When GOD becomes your weapon, battles start ending differently..

You stop begging people to understand you. You stop retaliating just to be heard. You stop defending your name to those committed to misunderstanding it. You stop losing sleep over what is already written. Your heart becomes quieter. Your feet become steadier. Your tears become a form of worship rather than a sign of weakness. And your victories, they become sweeter. Because you know you did not win through manipulation, deceit, noise, or force. You won through patience. Through faith. Through a type of resilience heaven recognises.

Strength Does Not Always Look Loud..

Sometimes GOD arms you with silence. A silence that confuses those who expect your retaliation. Sometimes He arms you with peace. A peace that unsettles those who planned your destruction. Sometimes He arms you with dignity. A dignity that stands taller than every lie spoken in your absence.

And sometimes, GOD arms you with loss. Loss that feels violent, unfair, agonising. But that loss becomes the fire that purifies you, the storm that humbles you, the lesson that changes you, the turning point that saves your soul.

The believer does not fight against the world. The believer fights above it.

The Truth in the Rawness..

It is raw and bleeding and that is exactly what makes this thought powerful. Because it comes from a place where the heart has fought enough battles to know one thing with absolute certainty,

Human weapons fail. Divine weapons never do.

When you choose GOD as your weapon, you are choosing clarity over confusion, purpose over pain, and direction over chaos. You are choosing a strength that does not need to shout. A strength that does not collapse when life throws another storm your way. A strength that whispers,

“I am not alone. I never was.” And so the declaration stands…

My weapon of choice is GOD.

Not because I am fearless, but because I refuse to fight alone. Not because I am strong, but because I know where strength truly comes from. Not because life has been gentle, but because GOD has been faithful.

This is not a battle cry. It is a promise to yourself..

That no matter who leaves, who hurts you, what fails, what collapses, GOD remains, GOD sees, GOD fights, GOD wins.

And with Him as your weapon, victory is not just possible. It is written.

✨ When Hearts Forget but Allah Remembers ✨

There is a quiet ache known only to those who have poured themselves into others, who have lifted people when they could not stand, carried burdens that were never their own, and given love in moments when no one else cared. It is a noble ache, the kind that Allah sees even when the world turns a blind eye. Because the truth is, human beings are fragile in their gratitude. We remember what benefits us today and forget the hands that held us yesterday.

Imam al-Shafi‘i, in his timeless wisdom, captured this flaw in human nature centuries ago..

“The satisfaction of people is an unattainable goal. So do not seek something that cannot be achieved.”

And he taught us that a person may do 99 things right, but the moment they slip, people will cling to the one flaw as though it erases the goodness that preceded it. They will share the mistake, discuss the imperfection, repeat the weakness, but rarely will they echo the kindness that once saved them. This is not a failure of your character, it is a reflection of the limits of theirs.

Human beings forget. But Allah .. Al-Shakūr, the Most Appreciative .. never forgets.

Every act of kindness you did, every night you cried for someone else’s comfort, every time you stood beside a soul when the world stepped away… It was written. Even if the person you helped remembers nothing, the One who watches hearts remembers everything.

Allah says in the Qur’an..

“Indeed, Allah does not allow the reward of those who do good to be lost.” (9:120)

So when they turn away after you stumble once, do not be shocked. When they reduce your full heart to a single mistake, do not let it break you. This is the pattern of humanity, quick to take, slow to recall, eager to judge what they themselves cannot bear.

But this is also the mercy of Allah..

He protects your reward by placing it with Him, not with people.

Sometimes He allows the ingratitude of others to appear so that you detach from the created and return to the Creator. He shows you the limits of a human heart so you can seek the infinite comfort of His. Every disappointment becomes a divine nudge.

Do it for Me, not for them.

And when the world forgets your hundred good actions, know that Allah multiplies them by thousands. When people speak of your flaw, Allah covers it. When they withdraw their appreciation, Allah draws you nearer to Him.

So let this truth settle gently into your soul..

You will not always be remembered by people, but you will always be remembered by Allah.

And the One who remembers you is the One whose remembrance carries meaning, mercy, and eternal reward.

Keep doing good. Not because people are loyal. But because Allah is Just.

Woman to Woman… I Pray You Win Every Battle You Never Talk About…

Woman to woman… I see you.

Not the version of you that smiles on cue, that holds herself with a grace so practiced it almost looks effortless. I am talking about the real you, the one who carries entire universes behind her eyes. The one who wakes up some mornings already tired, already fighting, already stitching herself back together before the world even realises she unraveled a little overnight.

You know… Those battles. The ones you never speak about. The ones you tuck under your ribs like secrets too sacred or too exhausting to explain.

And woman to woman, I pray you win every single one.

Because there are storms no one sees. There are heartbreaks that leave no visible bruise. There are nights where your pillow absorbs all the questions you are too strong to ask out loud. There are days you walk through life like a warrior with no armour, quietly bleeding, quietly hoping, quietly enduring.

You have carried disappointments that would have crushed someone with a softer spine. You have rebuilt yourself from ashes more times than anyone will ever know. You have fought wars inside your mind while acting like everything is fine. You have held yourself together when no one even noticed you were coming undone. You have handled responsibilities you never asked for. You have matured through pain you never deserved. You have forgiven things you should not have had to live through in the first place.

And still, look at you. Moving. Breathing. Trying. Healing in slow, determined steps.

Choosing softness in a world that tried to harden you. Choosing faith in a season that offered nothing but fear. Choosing yourself when life tried to convince you that you were not worth choosing.

So woman to woman, here is my prayer for you..

I pray you win the quiet battles that drain your spirit.

The ones you do not name because you are tired of explaining. The ones you hide because vulnerability feels like too much work. The ones you keep inside because you are terrified of being misunderstood. The ones you face with trembling hands but unwavering strength.

I pray you find peace where chaos tried to settle.

I pray you remember your worth on days it feels invisible.

I pray what you lost returns in a better form, or not at all, because you deserve what is aligned, not what is painful.

I pray your heart stops carrying burdens that were never yours to begin with.

I pray the chapters ahead are softer, kinder, smoother.

I pray your spirit receives the rest it has been begging for.

I pray your soul exhales.

And I hope.. I truly hope, that you never again have to stand in a war alone.

Because you are not weak. You are not dramatic. You are not “too much.” You are simply a woman who has survived things she rarely speaks about.

And that alone makes you extraordinary.

So woman to woman…

May every silent fight become a silent victory. May ever tear water something beautiful. May every heartbreak lead you back to yourself. May every unseen struggle turn into a triumph only GOD could write.

And may you win, quietly, loudly, beautifully, relentlessly, every battle you never talk about.

THE SECOND HALF OF MY LIFE BELONGS TO ME..

There comes a point in every woman’s life where survival stops being the goal and self-respect becomes the standard. A point where the battles I had fought, the storms I had walked through, and the wounds I had stitched shut with my bare hands became my evidence, proof that I did not survive hell just to tolerate what drains my spirit now.

I have crossed oceans of pain to get here.

I have walked through fire barefoot.

I have carried heartbreak, betrayal, disappointment, and the weight of responsibilities that nearly broke my back, yet here I stand.

So no, I will not apologise for protecting my peace.

I will not shrink myself to fit into places that cannot hold me.

And I will not pour into people who come with empty hands and entitled hearts.

I have learned the hard way that not everyone who had access deserved it. Some people only understood my giving, never my boundaries. Some loved the light I carried but contributed nothing to the flame. Some took and took and took… Then acted offended when I finally stopped bleeding for their comfort or selfish needs.

Forgiveness?

Yes, I have given that.

But forgetting?

No, now that is something I refuse to do. Not because I hold grudges, but because wisdom is born from remembrance. Forgetting would only make me vulnerable to repeating cycles that nearly destroyed me. I owe myself more than that.

This second half of my life will be lived with clarity, with intention, with self-love so strong it intimidates the version of me who once accepted crumbs. My boundaries are not walls, they are gates and I decide who gets the privilege of entering. I decide who gets my softness, my effort, my loyalty, my time. The access I give from here on will be earned, honoured, and never taken for granted again.

I am choosing me now, fully, unapologetically, consistently.

The woman I am becoming is no longer fueled by fear or longing for approval.

She is guided by experience, protected by self-respect, and powered by a heart that refuses to settle for less than what it deserves.

This is the second half of my life…

And I will live it for me. Not for what broke me. Not for what left me. Not for what drained me.

For me.. The woman who survived everything that was meant to destroy her… and decided she would rise anyway.

⏳ “Do You Need Time?” ..A Heartfelt Reflection ⌛️

Do you need time?

“Time is God’s quiet reminder that every sunrise is a second chance, not to relive the past, but to make peace with it.”

If you asked me whether I need time, I would probably pause before answering. Because time.. Because honestly it is such a fragile thing. You never realize how much of it you have wasted until it becomes the one thing you cannot get back. And if I could ask for more, I would ask for time, not to change the past, but to hold it a little longer. Time to make things right with my late mom, to tell her one more time how much I love her, how much her absence shaped me in ways her presence once protected me from. Time with my dad, to sit beside him, not even needing to speak, just to feel the quiet comfort of knowing he is there.

I would ask for more time to be a better daughter, the kind that understood earlier, that loved louder, that stayed longer. More time to fight harder against the lies and misunderstandings that tore things apart, to prove my truth before time took away the chance. More time to repent for the moments I strayed, not out of rebellion, but confusion. More time to become who I was meant to be, not the version people saw, but the one GOD envisioned when He breathed life into me.

But I also know something deeper now, time is never promised, only loaned. And I do not know how much of it I have left. My health reminds me daily that tomorrow is a privilege, not a guarantee. So I choose to live the days I do have as though they were handpicked by grace itself, because they are. I woke up this morning, and that alone means I have been gifted more time, time to make peace, time to forgive, time to love, time to thank GOD even when I do not understand His timing.

I have learnt that the best way to make things right with life is to make things right with GOD. Because when He is at the center, everything else begins to align. So yes, if you ask me, I do need time, but I am also deeply thankful for the time I have already been given.

Because every sunrise is mercy in motion, every breath is proof that purpose still lives within me, and every second is a sacred chance to become who I was meant to be, before my time runs out.

The Mirror Moment..

When GOD says,

“There is one more person you need to forgive”..

And then He brings out a mirror, that moment is not for the faint-hearted. That is the kind of truth that does not whisper, it hits like thunder in your spirit. Because we spend so much of our lives thinking forgiveness is about others, the ones who hurt us, betrayed us, disappointed us, left scars that still itch when we think too long. But then GOD shows you, and suddenly it is not about them anymore. It is about the quiet wars you have waged within yourself.

You realise how many nights you have replayed your own mistakes, how many times you have punished yourself for not knowing better, for loving wrong, for staying too long, for leaving too soon, for trusting what broke you. You have been your own harshest critic, your own silent executioner, carrying the weight of self-blame and regret like armor. But forgiveness, real forgiveness, means putting that armor down.

Because sometimes the hardest person to forgive is the one in the mirror. The one who did not have all the answers back then. The one who tried and failed. The one who lost herself while trying to save everyone else. The one who fell short of her own expectations. The one who is still learning that healing is not a straight line.

GOD does not bring the mirror to shame you. He brings it to free you. He wants you to see that the same grace you extend to others, you have been with-holding from yourself. That the same mercy you pray for others, you have denied your own heart. Forgiveness of self is not arrogance, it is alignment. It is saying,

“Lord, if You have forgiven me, who am I to keep punishing what you have already redeemed?”

And when that moment of recognition comes, that you, too, are worthy of release, something shifts. The chains loosen. The weight lifts. The reflection starts to look softer. You stop seeing a mess and start seeing a miracle. Because GOD did not bring the mirror to expose your flaws. He brought it to show you how far you have come.

Forgiving yourself is not pretending the past did not happen. It is acknowledging it did, and choosing peace anyway. It is looking in that mirror and saying,

“I forgive you for not knowing then, what you know now. I forgive you for all the times you dimmed your light to make others comfortable. I forgive you for surviving the only way you knew how.”

When GOD brings the mirror, it is not judgement, it is grace staring back at you. It is a reminder that healing begins where honesty meets love. And sometimes, the most divine act you will ever perform is looking yourself in the eyes and saying, with trembling truth..

“I forgive you.”

“Forgive and Forget? Please.”

Forgive and forget?..

Haha please!

I am not GOD, and I definitely do not suffer from selective memory loss. I remember, darling. I archive. I keep receipts in high-definition mental folders with time-stamps and emotional impact ratings. I may not seek revenge, but best believe my mind is a walking surveillance camera, silent, observant, and brutally detailed.

People love to preach “forgive and forget” like it is a holy mantra. Meanwhile, I am over here, sipping my coffee, thinking, Forget what? The disrespect? The betrayal? The gaslighting?

Oh no, sweetheart, my memory is not built for amnesia. It is built for evolution. I do not dwell, I develop. I do not rage, I recalibrate. I do not plot revenge, I plot success.

See, forgiveness is divine, and I am just a beautifully flawed human with a memory that refuses to play dumb. My healing does not come from forgetting, it comes from remembering wisely. I have learnt that peace does not mean erasing the past, it means walking through it with grace and an upgraded mindset.

Call it petty if you want. I call it self-protection with style. I do not hold grudges. I hold data. And that data reminds me exactly how to move, who to trust, and where to never step again. Because while some people turn the other cheek, I simply turn the page.

My secret?

I dog-ear the page, just in case I need to revisit the lesson.

So no, I do not forget. I outgrow. I outsmart. I outshine. My memory is not a weakness, it is my intuition with perfect recall. I might laugh about it now, but best you believe every “haha” has a hidden footnote of wisdom.

Because at the end of the day, I do not forgive and forget.. I remember and prosper.