Since my youth, faith has been my constant companion and guiding light. Growing up in a religious household, I embraced Islam wholeheartedly, studying Shari’ah and wearing a niqab for almost a decade. I was confident I was on the right path, a devoted Muslimah with her compass straight. Yet, life has a way of challenging our beliefs and testing our resolve, as I discovered when I married and eventually became a single mom three years ago.

Disconnection

During Umrah, just three months before that, I felt disconnected and lost, even inhuman. My carefully crafted prayers in the many dua’ lists felt hollow, and I was left with a wordless plea for divine intervention, crying silently with my head on the walls of the Kaaba until I couldn’t breathe anymore.

The months before I went to Umrah, I had been on sort of a reawakening journey to find my way back to myself following a near-death experience. I had been trying to put myself back together little by little without rocking the boat too much because I was sure I couldn’t survive the consequences if I dared to leave my marriage. I was desperate for deliverance but didn’t see a way out. The desperation left me feeling hollow and disconnected more than anything else. I felt forsaken and alone.

Little did I know that divine intervention would come in the form of a pandemic. The COVID-19 lockdowns swept across the globe, and my husband left me and our toddler stranded in a foreign country, making us homeless. A few weeks later, I learned I was pregnant with our second child, a child he refused to acknowledge. Fear for our lives gripped me, but through the grace of Allah , my community rallied around me, despite the lockdowns and social distancing.

Seeking deliverance for my soul

If you’re anything like me, you grew up hearing that a husband is second only to God. While the validity of this claim is a topic for another discussion, I got married because, at the time, it felt like the only way out of a personal struggle to find my path, purpose, and destiny. I was taught that my purpose in life was to serve my husband, raise children, and ensure his happiness as a means to attain salvation. I was led to believe that a woman who failed to please her husband would not enter Jannah, while one who kept him content while performing her prayers would be rewarded with eternal bliss.

Through my experiences, I learned that offering the submission Allah reserves for Himself to those other than Him left me depleted and disconnected. The day my husband left, the one to whom I had submitted myself completely, the only thing I could bring myself to say was Umm Salama’s dua’:

إنا لله وإنا إليه راجعون‏:‏ اللهم آجرني في مصيبتي، واخلف لي خيرا منها(‏رواه مسلم‏)‏‏

Inna lillahi wa inna ilaihi rajioon. Allahumma’jurni fi museebati wa’khlufli khairamminha

“We belong to Allah and Him we shall return. O Allah! Compensate me in my affliction, recompense my loss, and give me something better in exchange for it.” [Muslim]

On the first day of Ramadan, the government evacuated me and brought me back home. Just hours before my husband had left, I had made my Ramadan resolutions, but now they were buried somewhere among the few possessions I had been able to bring with me. Even more limited than my material possessions were the thoughts in my head. I was in shock. My husband had locked me out of our home and vanished without a trace. I had no idea if he was alive or dead.

Stumbling, falling, getting back up again

As I began the arduous journey of seeking legal recourse, I surrendered myself to Allah . I promised Him that, despite the advice I received, I would not lie and would not take any steps without seeking istikhara with Him. Through His grace, Allah fulfilled and healed me in ways that no human ever could.

Though societal pressures once led me to believe my salvation depended on my husband’s happiness, I now realize Islam does not promote such oppression. Instead, I recognize the necessity of trusting Allah’s plan and submitting to Him alone. Fear and doubt held me back for too long, but I now know that true liberation lies in submission to Allah’s guidance and mercy.

Now I know, that should I remarry, do I compromise and make every effort to live harmoniously with my spouse? Yes. Should I submit to him instead of God? No. Seems like a no-brainer, but, oftentimes in society, we skip over certain parts when we’re teaching children. You will not hear jumu’ah khutbahs on this topic, yet the topic of balancing roles in a marriage is something every human who marries struggles with. We make generalized, sweeping statements like sharing the portion from this hadith of the Prophet :

“If I were to command anyone to make prostration before another I would command women to prostrate themselves before their husbands, because of the special right over them given to husbands by Allah.” [Abu Dawud]

However, we do not provide any context for it nor do we teach what abuse and a controlling relationship look like. We do not teach our girls to protect themselves because we feel threatened by a convoluted idea of Western feminism’s appeal. We forget that the reason that extreme ideologies become alluring is when one finds no recourse in one’s discourse. The history of Muslims is proof that women were not running towards a destructive ideology when the Muslim society offered them protection, resources, and rights. Or perhaps we feel threatened by it because change is difficult. Whatever the reason may be, it is important to understand and internalize that oftentimes what we are taught in the name of Islam is not ‘Islamic’ as much as it is cultural, especially when it comes to our marriages and households. We need to understand that following cultural norms is not ‘bad’ but understanding the distinction between the two is important so we can make informed decisions for our own lives that we will be answerable to Allah for. 

Finding my way back to Allah

Allah says: 

“So if you fear they will not be able to keep within the limits of Allah, there is no blame if the wife compensates the husband to obtain a divorce.” [Surah Al Baqarah, 2;229]

PC: The Dancing Rain (unsplash)

Like many others on this topic, this ayah emphasizes the lack of blameworthiness in divorce, yet what I saw around me was that single mothers were considered a bane to society, objects of pity or ridicule with no inherent value – in that context, I equated being a single mother to being an oppressed and depressed homemaker with even more limitations now than before marriage. In the single moms around me, I didn’t see ambitious, independent women of joy fostering their path in life. One of the reasons I stayed in my marriage with its facade of happiness and success was that I didn’t want to have single motherhood like the one I saw others experience. 

However, my heart, the same one that had led me to the Kaaba, whispered that there was more to the story. It reminded me that the true spirit of Islam, as I had learned from studying Shariah, is not one of oppression, where humans are subjugated to anyone but their Creator. It told me I was wrong in submitting myself to a human, the way I owe only to God.

But being married to a spiritual leader, the spiritual subjugation was so strong that I refused to listen to any voice that wasn’t my husband’s, not even my own. When he left, I found myself grasping at straws, trying to find the compass that I had once been (perhaps conceitedly) sure of.

Growing up Muslim, we learn the stories of the Prophet’s wives very generically. I had known that all of the Prophet’s wives except Aisha were either widowed or divorced. I knew that Khadija had kids from her previous husbands, but beyond that, there was never a mention of anything, nor did I feel the need to investigate. 

One of the few things I remembered about who I was before my marriage was that I found solace in learning. I tried to get back to it, but being a solo mom working four jobs during a pandemic while pregnant and raising a toddler in transitionary homes wasn’t conducive to going to school. I turned to dua’ again, and through trial and error, Allah led me to a small, obscure class with a knowledgeable teacher. She taught a series on women mentioned in the Qur’an. Through this class, I realized not only that many of the Prophet’s wives were single mothers before marrying him and in a much harsher environment than me but were also powerful, independent individuals who realized their potential in themselves. 

Often, like in the case of Khadija or Juwairiyah , they also changed the course of history. Khadija refused to marry anyone she thought unsuitable despite being a single mother in a patriarchal society and the pressure from her family. Juwairiyah was born a princess but was enslaved as a prisoner of war. Her story is one that taught me that the concept of respecting one’s boundaries is very much an ‘Islamic’ one. Often we’re taught that sacrifice, going out of the way to help others, is the only Islamic way. However, like with all things, Islam teaches us moderation and that there is a time and a place for everything which I, unfortunately, was not taught. I was taught that as a Muslim, my value resides in how much I give to others. There was never a thought spared to the cost of giving. 

Juwairiyah was twenty when she married the Prophet . She proposed marriage to the Prophet but he told her unequivocally that he couldn’t marry someone who was another person’s slave. Her father came with a hundred camels to free her of slavery, her master, Thabit bin Qays, wanted to marry her, relieving her of being in slavery. However, she refused both offers, instead went to the Prophet’s and insisted that he take her up on the proposal outlining the political benefits for both the Muslims and her tribe. As a result of their marriage, every Muslim who had a slave from her tribe, freed them because they couldn’t have in-laws of the Prophet being enslaved in their house. Her father, the chieftain of her tribe was so impacted by this gesture that he became Muslim, and the rest of his tribe followed him. 

Learning their stories caused a profound mental shift for me. I always believed in Tawheed but had never internalized it in the way that I now do. I always said the words of La ilaha ill Allah, but didn’t truly understand them before now – that my worth as a Muslim woman is not defined by my marital status or the perception of my value in a human’s eyes, but rather by my faith and relationship with Allah . This realization has liberated me from societal norms and allowed me to fully embrace my identity as a woman, strengthened and empowered by her deen. 

Stumbling and falling flat over and over again

I realize that I may not be able to change the perception of everyone, perhaps not even my own family – who still won’t tell our relatives that I am divorced, but I can live my best life despite it. I would’ve liked to be one of the people whose families shade them and are their strength, but not having that has allowed me to find the strength in myself and most importantly, my Lord, which is the greatest gift. 

The first time I made a new friend at a masjid party for kids post-divorce, she made her children and husband get as far away from me as possible as soon as she learned I was a single mom. She then proceeded to warn every woman at the party about me, so for the rest of the night, my children and I were pariahs. That time I reached out to a friend from the community to help me understand, I complained to the Imam, and I was sad for days. Over the past three years, I’ve visited numerous masajid and, except for just one, have repeatedly encountered a similar narrative to varying degrees. However, the last time it happened, to my surprise, it didn’t shake my heart even a little bit. It’s not that I’ve grown immune to rejection. Rather, I now understand that the most meaningful relationship in life is with Allah. Every painful experience I endure only serves to purify and elevate me.

My journey exemplifies how faith can transform us during our weakest moments, imbuing us with the strength and courage to overcome even the toughest obstacles. It instills us with a sense of purpose and meaning that sustains us through our darkest moments. When feeling trapped or overwhelmed, turning to Allah and trusting in His plan allows us to draw strength from our faith.

However, my journey is also a call to action for all of us to support and uplift one another. I’ll never forget the woman who embraced me, disregarding social distancing, when I was homeless with a toddler and had just found out I was pregnant during a pandemic. Her compassionate gesture remains etched in my memory. The kindness I received far outweighs any hardship from my community. In these challenging times, it’s crucial to show empathy and kindness, even if it’s just a small gesture. Such actions can profoundly impact people’s lives and serve as a beacon of hope to those who are struggling. 

Refusing to give up

Through this journey, I have found many ‘sayings’ to be true, God helps those who help themselves, let Go(d), give the reins to God, and the list goes on. But like anyone doing something they never thought they’d be able to, in fact, as someone who spent half a decade in a terrible situation afraid of living the life that I am right now, as cliched as it may sound, I’d say to all single moms that if I can do it, so can you. 

If this is the path God had led you to in your journey of life, embrace it, put your faith in God, and let Him handle your affairs. What that looks like exactly is different for each person, but the feeling of relinquishing the anguished attempts at control so we can feel some stability in a world that is going upside down and sideways on its head can be the most calming thing for our souls. 

I became homeless while pregnant and alone with a toddler at the height of the pandemic-induced lockdowns, I had been cut off from everyone I once knew for half a decade, and generally, I am a very private person, so I wouldn’t have spoken to people as openly about my situation had I not been absolutely dependant on opening up for mine and my child’s survival.  Yet when survival mode kicked in, I contacted everyone I thought could help, if not directly then by connecting me with resources. Most didn’t respond, but some did and through them, Allah gave me a way out. As an Imam of the Kaaba once reminded me, in Surah Talaq (Divorce), Allah says:

“…And whoever is mindful of Allah, He will make a way out for them.” [Surah At-Talaq: 65;2]

And how beautiful that Allah showers our aching hearts with His mercy right in the next ayah, 

“and provide for them from sources they could never imagine. And whoever puts their trust in Allah, then He ˹alone˺ is sufficient for them..” [Surah Talaq: 65;3]

Continuing to hold on

Three years of solo parenthood and continued abuse through legal means later, I still stumble and fall every day in my journey of faith, many times a day. But unlike before, now I tell myself that just because I messed up doesn’t mean I have no hope in God. I can always return to Him, no matter what. I constantly remind myself not to lose hope in my Creator and to frequently recite the dua’ of the Prophet Muhammad :

رَبِّ اجْعَلْنِي لَكَ شَكَّارًا ، لَكَ ذَكَّارًا ، لَكَ رَهَّابًا ، لَكَ مِطْوَاعًا ،لَكَ مُخْبِتًا ،إِلَيْكَ أَوَّاهًا مُنِيبًا

“O my Lord, make me deeply grateful to You, constantly remembering You, in great fear and awe of You, devoted to Your Obedience,  humble, penitent and ever-turning to You in repentance.” [Sahih; Al-Albani]

That hope that my Lord has not forsaken me brings me a sense of peace like never before so that even on the darkest days, all doesn’t seem lost. Even when I struggle the worst, I can still reach out and find my lord in my heart and talk to Him – and eventually, the Controller of the Hearts makes it okay. 

Hand over your affairs to our Maker, step out of your comfort zone, and embrace this unparalleled opportunity for growth that Allah has blessed you with. You just hold on to the rope of faith for dear life and know that Allah will set all your affairs straight, give you a way out and provide for you from sources you could never imagine.

Related:

– Difficulties Are Our Biggest Blessings: Notes From A Bereaved Mother With Three Calls From Jannah – MuslimMatters.org

– Domestic Violence Series: Marital Disputes, Ego, And Shame – MuslimMatters.org