Selita

New job? Zip it.

Going on vacation? Zip it.

Getting married? Zip it.

Not every blessing needs an audience.

Because you’re getting older?

Because your parents expect grandchildren?

Because society says it’s time?

Or have you actually thought about their purpose?

Hannah, the mother of Maryam (عليها السلام), didn’t think in terms of status or dunyā. She wanted her child to be devoted to Allāh Subḥānahu wa Taʿālā.

She made du’a:

“My Lord, I have vowed to You what is in my womb, dedicated [to Your service]…” (Qur’an 3:35)

We plan schools, careers, and futures in this world, but ignore their ākhirah.

She expected a son, yet Allāh blessed her with Maryam, a woman whose name would be remembered and honored for generations.

You are not just raising a child for yourself or for society. You are raising a soul you will be questioned about.

So stop treating children as a life milestone.

Ask the only question that matters:

Sabr isn’t about silently tolerating harm or calling it faith. It’s about staying grounded in your deen while dealing with difficulty in a wise and healthy way.

Sometimes sabr means enduring something for the sake of Allāh. But sometimes it also means taking action, setting boundaries, or walking away from what’s harming you when you can.

Islam doesn’t tell you to ignore damage. It tells you not to harm yourself and to act with wisdom and responsibility.

So staying in something that constantly drains you, disrespects you, or breaks your peace isn’t automatically “strong sabr.” Strength can also be knowing when something needs to change.

You struggle because you’re trying to do everything at once.

You tell yourself:

“If I fix my deen, my life will fall into place.”

But life doesn’t pause.

Deadlines still come.

Bills still need to be paid.

Exams don’t disappear.

And salah still needs to be prayed—no matter what.

So you feel stuck between two worlds.

But here’s the truth:

You were never meant to “balance it all.”

You were meant to prioritize the akhirah within your dunya.

Not separate lives.

One life—with one direction.

The cycle you’re stuck in looks like this:

Motivation → all-in → burnout → guilt → restart.

That’s not inconsistency.

That’s an unsustainable approach.

Islam was never meant to be lived in extremes.

It’s built on consistency.

Small deeds.

Clear intentions.

Showing up—even when it’s hard.

Your studies can be worship.

Your job can be worship.

Your struggles can bring you closer to Allāh.

Dunya isn’t blocking your deen.

It’s where your deen is tested, lived, and proven.

So stop trying to become perfect overnight.

Instead, become someone who doesn’t let go of:

her prayers,

her intentions,

her connection to Allāh,

even on her hardest days.

You’re not far from Allāh.

No facial expressions. No tone. No presence. Just text on a screen.

I don’t think it’s about any specific person. I just connect better in real life. I like seeing people’s reactions, hearing their voice, feeling their energy. Online conversations feel distant to me, even with people I care about.

Maybe I’m just someone who prefers real presence over digital connection.

"Take my advice with regard to women:

Act kindly towards women,

for they were created from a rib,

and the most crooked part of a rib is its uppermost.

If you attempt to straighten it; you will break it,

and if you leave it alone, it will remain crooked;

so act kindly toward women."

То, что тебя миновало, не было тебе предназначено.

А то, что предназначено тебе, никогда тебя не минует.