secrets of my heart: the beauty in patience

on graduating, memories, divorce & sabr

my favourite memory isn’t something huge. it isn’t what you might expect to be the favourite memory i’ve ever had. it’s quite simple. and very short. but it means more to me than i could ever express and brings me the most joy in life.

it was after parents evening one night when i was in year 12. i was in the middle—my mum was to my left, my dad to my right. and we were walking in the dark to our cars. my mum and i to our car, my dad to his. and we were laughing. nothing else. just the three of us laughing at a joke together as we walked. the three of us, side by side.

:) that’s the memory.

it was the first time i ever remember laughing with both my parents together. and the both of them laughing at the same time too.

it was also the first parents evening where both my parents sat with me in front of the teachers. every year, it would always be me and my mum first and then she would go home and my dad would arrive at school. then i would re-do the whole parent-to-teacher meeting again with him. for years, my parents couldn’t be in the same space together without there being an uncomfortable tension in the air—without it leading to an argument.

but that year was different. that moment of laughter in unison was so brief, it was a fragment of time that only lasted a few moments. the three of us laughing together as we walked on a dark, autumn evening with the fallen brown leaves scattered across the ground.

it reminds me of the one harry potter scene where harry had to think of a time where he was truly happy to conjure his patronus charm—and the strongest memory that finally worked (in the movie version) was when he was doing nothing else but simply talking with his parents.

in july, i graduated my undergraduate degree. and it very quickly became one of my favourite days i’ve ever had. my brother couldn’t make it, so it was just me and my parents. i had to convince my dad for weeks to come with my mum and i in our car and he finally agreed to it the night before the big day. it was a couple hours drive and i didn’t want him to pay for a train ticket.

driving in my pink dress, with my mum in the passenger’s seat wearing her pink outfit to match mine, and seeing my dad through the rear view mirror with his navy suit and pink tie (i didn’t even tell him i was going to wear pink but if you knew me in real life, you’d know i wouldn’t even have to tell you), i felt a strange, yet blissful, feeling inside. i felt scared as being in a car with both of my parents was a completely new territory for me. i, of course, remember being in the car with them when i was a baby, but it was the first time i was in a car with them both again after more than a decade.

i was scared about whether there would be any tension or discomfort. and i also felt the fear of the unknown. yet… simultaneously, i also felt so happy. happy that i was in the car with them both, driving them together as they matched their outfits to mine. happy that i could feel what it’s like to be in a car with your parents :’) my heart is exploding just thinking about the fact that i was there with them.

the car was quiet for a while but i didn’t think much of it. eventually, my mum started talking to me:

‘when you were little, as soon as your dad started the car, you would immediately fall asleep. now, you’re older and you’re driving, and your dad is the one that’s sleeping now’.

straight away, i glanced into the rear-view mirror and realised that my dad was asleep in the car already. i had only been driving for about ten minutes. it filled me up with more happiness inside, knowing i had that full circle moment.

i never thought, when i was eight years old, that my parents would be divorcing. i didn’t even know what a divorce was. i still remember the day i was sitting next to my dad on his bed and he explained what it was and told me he would be leaving the house soon. leaving me.

i didn’t see my dad for months after he left. my biggest problem at that age should have been learning my times tables and instead it was looking at pictures of my dad every day so that the fading image of him in my head wouldn’t disappear completely. i still remember trying to recall what he looked like. instead, it was playing games on my computer to try and block out all the arguments downstairs from before and after they divorced, while i was up in my room. instead, it was feeling lonely when nobody was there in the audience for me when i acted on stage in my many plays, because my mum was busy working multiple jobs and studying to get a degree to provide for me and my brother. instead, it was adjusting to my dad re-marrying and having a whole new woman and her daughter come into and take over my life with my dad so fast.

i can never relate to when people say ‘i wish i could go back to being a child, life was so much better back then’. because mine was hell. it was traumatic in so many ways. i could be here forever talking about so many different things that happened. my friends joke about it and tell me my life is a movie. because life wasn’t better for me back then, life got better in the past three years. since i first went to university.

and yet… if you had told baby sabrgirl back then that the day i graduate would be a day where my parents would communicate amicably and peacefully, and that it would be a day where i would spend time with both of them—all three of us being happy—i would have been so shocked. i wouldn’t believe it at all. it would sound like a fairytale.

so many things happened on my graduation day that i never knew i was longing for inside.

i walked to campus with both my parents together from my university house—ironically, my dad to my left again with my mum to my right.

i walked on that stage to get my certificate with both my parents in the audience sitting next to each other, being proud of me. together. side by side. watching me.

i was even surprised that they managed to communicate roles. my mum was in charge of taking videos and my dad was to take pictures of me. i was so shocked.

they’re… communicating? i thought.

after the ceremony, i even walked around the merchandise store putting the different class of 2024 hoodies to my body, seeing how it would look on me, and i couldn’t even find my parents. looking around the marquee, i eventually saw them both walking together, towards me. i had a little moment where i froze, thinking my dad was shouting at her and i was my eight year old self again as i stared at them, scared. but then i realised he was just explaining something to her and my body relaxed. then i listened to my mum tell me that i’m never even going to wear that hoodie, and never even wear hoodies anyway, and should put it away. i bought the class of 2024 mug instead.

we even prayed together! subhanallah, alhamdulillah. this is my favourite one. my dad led our salah. i’ve never prayed with both of my parents before—with my dad leading the prayer and me and my mum praying behind. like a family. maybe i prayed with them when i was a child, i can’t remember. but i couldn’t believe it. i didn’t want the prayer to ever end.

my heart is screaming inside. these things might seem like the most basic things ever. maybe something that happens to others on a daily basis. but these are things that i have never, ever, had. i don’t remember the last time we went to eat food together in a restaurant as a family. or praying with both of them together. these ‘little’ things that happened on the day i graduated filled up a hole inside of me that had been dark for ages.

but the hole wasn’t filled with them. it was filled with the art of sabr. my graduation day showed me the beauty of patience. that things take time. and by time, i mean years. longer than we like. longer than we want. but with sabr, hardships pass. with sabr, tension becomes ease. with sabr, resentment becomes peace.

and sometimes, things won’t even unravel in ways we expect them to either. my parents aren’t back together. divorcing was the best thing for the both of them. it was Allah’s will and, alhamdulillah, they’re thriving in their own ways—especially my mother who is thriving beautifully. Allah knows it’s what she deserves after everything. but with a whole ton of sabr, the hardship passed. water was shoved under the bridge. forgiveness came. acceptance lingers.

it reminds me of a moment a few months ago, when i was talking to my mother about something that has been frustrating us both. i was so upset, grumpy and angry.

‘you just have to pray,’ she was telling me.

i snapped, and said, ‘i’ve been praying about this for years!’

i crossed my arms and turned the other way, feeling so annoyed.

then, my mum replied saying,

‘what colour was the beard of Yusuf (as)’s father when Yusuf was thrown into the well?’

‘i don’t know? how am i supposed to know? black…?’

‘by the time he saw his son again, his beard had turned grey. and you’re telling me you’ve been praying for years?’

that silenced me real quick. i uncrossed my arms and just looked at her with puppy eyes in shame. i haven’t complained about a prayer not being answered since.

the thing is, sabr takes real strength and the waiting game can sometimes take decades. but the relief does come. it pays off in the most magical ways. it just may be that you form some wrinkles along the way. get a little taller. perhaps a little shorter. maybe even both. i was eight years old and now i’m twenty one. i had to wait a whole thirteen years before i was able to catch a whiff of knowing what it’s like to do family things, like walking with your parents and praying with them, feeling happy with them and having the happiness reciprocated between the two as well. of knowing what it’s like to see your parents happy together. even if they’re not together together.

before i graduated, it was all such a foreign concept to me and just remained a dream in my heart. and it still is such a big dream of mine. to be in love, to go on walks with my future husband and my kids and be happy together as a family. i dream about eating dinner as a family and i’m excessive about it too—having a satin dinner cloth and a lit candelabra every night. and having a prayer corner where we all pray together. and go to the mosque together. things i watch others do and have and simply daydream about before i go to bed. to just have one, one, stable and happy family. under one roof. something i’ll still need to have the sabr for to one day have. and it takes a lot of strength. it’s painful. sometimes i get desperate.

the things we dream of and want can take our whole lives to manifest. and after all that waiting, they most likely won’t even turn out the way we expect them to. but they happen. and happen beautifully. and the best part is that they always happen in the ways that we need and in better ways than we could ever imagine.

what a beautiful day Allah picked to let my inner dreams come true of being with my parents together where all of us are happy, both of them being in the same space with no tension, no drama, no fights. just peace, for His sake. the day i graduated was a day Allah allowed me to feel a little glimpse of what it’s like to be in a peaceful family. it was like a sweet treat along the way, through this journey of sabr, before i get to permanently have the real thing for life, Insha’Allah, in this world and the next. which i believe Allah will allow me to have :) one day.

it wasn’t pretty to get here. and it’s still not all that pretty now—clearly, from what i discussed in september - attribute of the month about my family. and it took years of hardship and traumatic moments for my parents to be able to finally be peaceful now for the sake of Allah, letting everything go and having forgiveness. and i’m still in therapy for so many things. you never really understand how much these things affect you until you’re much older and realise you’re making decisions and/or acting in ways as a result of the trauma that’s stored deep within.

but i guess what i’m trying to say is, although things do take time—sometimes years—to happen, they do happen. as my mother said, Yusuf (as) was reunited with Ya’qub (as) after many, many years—but they were reunited. and Yusuf (as) had gotten so much success after bearing a lot of hardship along the way, and being away from his father.

i remember two years ago, i was crying my eyes out about my family life and, as i’ve said before, i always like to go to the Qur’an and ask Allah to give me some reassurance and open it up at random. that day, i opened it and the page landed on the very beginning of Surah Yusuf, so that was Allah telling me to read the whole chapter. and when i did, i realised that his story relates so much to me in terms of family, family members letting you down, going through so much hardship. but by the end, he had so much nearness to Allah سُبْحَٰنَهُۥ وَتَعَٰلَىٰ and a lot of success, alhamdulillah. the lesson i learnt was to not obsess about the end result; to instead, be patient and trust that i will get my peaceful, stable and loving family in the end but focus on my relationship with Allah in the meantime. it’s ironic (but is it really, if there’s a God?) that my mother mentioned Yusuf (as) and his father to me that one time when telling me to have patience.

i’m still not quite there yet—one day when i have my peaceful, loving family, Insha’Allah, i will come back to this post and give a huge update on what i’ve learnt about sabr. but as for right now, after years of hardship, my parents were able to peacefully be in the same space with each other for an entire day. and my graduation day out of all possible days too. i feel so happy and full inside, knowing i got to spend the day with the both of them. i don’t remember the last time i spent an entire day with them. and that was the first time i think i’ve ever spent a day with them where each of us were all happy too. now i just need that to happen again with my brother with us too next time. Insha’Allah. to live my dream of being with my entire family happily.

and my parents still do and have been communicating amicably now for the sake of my brother and i when they need to. it’s all by Allah’s grace. and, alhamdulillah, it’s the most healing thing.

it all takes time. but doesn’t the perfect end result that Allah decrees after it all make the act of sabr such a beautiful art?

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attribute of the month, Al-Basit, The Expander:

excerpt from my post on this month’s attribute:

so, for me, reflecting on Al-Basit this month will be to remember, through the overwhelm, stress and hurt, that everything happens for its higher purpose. all the pain and disappointment that i feel in this world by others is the way Allah is helping me pour my cup in order to fill it with Him completely. The Expander is creating the space for me to say hasbiAllah, Allah is sufficient for me, and truly internalise it and mean it. He is helping me only rely on Him.

september - attribute of the month

i’ve been reciting HasbiAllah in my heart and out loud a lot this month and it truly is bringing me a lot of peace. i have been trying to internalise it and mean it :’) wearing my ring that also says اَلَیۡسَ اللّٰہُ بِکَافٍ عَبۡدَہٗ (is Allah not sufficient for His servant? (39:37)) is also serving as a constant reminder that Allah is enough for me and is truly expanding space within me to fill with Himself.

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grab a blessing:

• la hawla wala quwwata illa billah
  (there is no power nor strength except with God).

• Rabbana atina fid dunya hasanatan wa fil Aakhirati hasanatan waqina ‘adhaban-nar
  (our Lord, grant us good in this world as well as good in the world to come, and protect us from the torment of the Fire) (2:202).

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jazakallah for reading :) i’m laughing because i call myself SabrGirl but this is the first post that’s explicitly about sabr. i’ve touched upon it briefly here and there but most of my posts are about having tawakkul. perhaps that’s because i think, alhamdulillah, i’m quite good at having sabr but terrible at maintaining tawakkul. and i write mostly about things i struggle with and what i’m learning along the way—which has been trying to get better at trusting in Allah and just letting go and surrendering it all to Him. such beautiful concepts they both are, aren’t they? sabr and tawakkul. i think they go hand in hand.

i hope you’re all well. i know it’s been a while—i’ve been so busy like crazy these past three weeks. this post is even scheduled on a busy weekend so, as you’re reading this, i’m most likely out busy somewhere. i’m about to start a new course at uni :) it’s exciting! please keep me in your prayers. good luck with whatever you all have coming up.

i also have so many new subscribers so i want to take the time to say salam and welcome to the world of SabrGirl! thank you all for being here, whether you’ve been here for a while or came here recently. it truly means a lot. every time i’ve gotten a new subscriber i gasp and say ‘thank you!!!’ to my computer screen, honest to God.

take care! sending so much love, as usual,

— SabrGirl ♡.