as usual, i asked Allah to give me any one of His names that i really need to remember and reflect on this month and spun the attribute wheel. it landed on Al-Basit, the Extender, the Expander.
‘basit’ comes from the root ba-sin-ta (ب س ط), which means to expand, enlarge, to grant abundance, to provide, to make spacious, or to extend a hand.
i gasped when i saw what the wheel had landed on and thought it was so ironic because of a lovely comment in my last post, by , who explained this attribute to me. this post is, somewhat, a part two of my last post:
so, my parents are divorced.
there, i finally said it. look at me differently now. the unsubscribe button is right there. stare at me as if i just told you i committed the biggest sin and whisper among your friends that i come from a broken family, like the girls from the mosque do when i tell them. do whatever. i’ve finally let it out.
in my last post, i talked about how i find my home/family life incredibly hard to live in:
‘i need to trust that Allah will help me again. either through another escape or, (the one i’ve been dreading and will most likely be), to not run away this time but tackle the problems head-on’.
after seeing that this month’s attribute was Al-Basit, i immediately felt as through Allah was expanding and opening up an opportunity for me to tackle a problem head on and address an issue i’ve been keeping quiet about for years. i felt confident enough to muster up the courage and be brave. to finally speak up for myself.
so i decided to tell my dad that his wife treats me poorly, and has been doing so for almost a decade.
i didn’t know how it would go. all i knew was that i was going, with Allah by my side, to finally speak up on my feelings, to be honest about how i’ve been trying so hard to have sabr, to remain kind, to be the bigger person, while enduring all kinds of hurtful things since i was a teenager. i told him why i haven’t come over to his house in a while, that i’ve been avoiding her, that it’s been really hard lately, especially over the fact that this is my last summer holiday before moving back home from university permanently.
and yet… i still ended up being disappointed.
i was grateful that i was listened to, that it was acknowledged that all the examples i gave are not how somebody should be treated and that he said he will speak with her. but then being told ‘this isn’t to justify it, but…’ and then it somehow being flipped onto my mother, who has nothing to do with it, and the blame being indirectly put on the two of us?
i’m staring at this draft as i write. it’s funny. i’m a writer but today i’m at a loss for words. what should i say? how can i express my pain? how do i put it into words that i’m blinking away tears and swallowing down the lump in my throat as i try and write this?
i went there for my feelings and other people got dragged into the picture. even after giving all the examples, it was said that her daughter is the cinderella, not me. even though she’s treated like a daughter. by her mum and my dad. even though i was completely removed from what used to be ‘our’ room. even though i’m the one that’s treated harshly. even though i’m the one that gets excluded time and time again.
and then after saying, ‘i don’t like it when my step mum is rude about my mother to my face because it’s unnecessary and she hasn’t done anything to her’. to then be told told that if my mother doesn’t come to our community events, then his wife won’t feel threatened or feel as though my mother is trying to usurp her position (???), and, then, won’t take her anger out on me? even though i said that she’s been rude about my mother before she even step foot in any of the events this year, which she also has every right to come to and also take place at the mosque?
it’s just like the incident i wrote about in ‘is Allah punishing me?’. i spoke up, after a really long time, and talked about someone that really hurt me and was told that my pain is a punishment from God. and now again, i speak up about someone else that is hurting me and basically get the blame and get told that if i do more housework, she won’t be as rude to me. even though i do a lot of the babysitting of my younger siblings when i’m there.
i’m not justifying it but you do more housework at your mum’s house whereas her daughter does most of the work here. it’s like she’s cinderella. so that’s why she gets upset.
i get that but my mum has no husband, she lives by herself. in your house there’s you, her and her daughter that already help out.
yeah but your house is smaller and we have a big house.
true, but my mum works all day and it’s hard to be a single mother and then come home and do all the housework too.
yes but your step mum has lots of babies, it’s hard.
why is it household one vs household two? why is it me and my mum vs my step mum and her daughter? why is it me vs my sister? why is it not ‘yes, the examples that you have given about the way she has treated you is unacceptable, i’ll deal with it’ and leave it at that?
why is it ‘maybe don’t bring your mum to different mosque events because your step mum doesn’t like to see her’ rather than ‘no one should be rude about someone’s mother’? why is it not understandable that she is my mother so of course she is going to be there?
by Allah, if any of you met my mother you would see that she is a simple and kind woman who just says salam to everyone and minds her own business, rather than having some agenda and ulterior motive to show everybody that she used to be married to my dad. she has every right to come to the events that are held, and, on top of that, everybody there welcomes her and also wants her to come.
but why is it about anyone else at all? it’s not about my mother. it’s not about my sister. or anyone else. it was about my feelings and it turned into something else.
i’m so upset. more angry. and feel incredibly misunderstood. i went to say that i am not treated like a daughter or even a human, and it’s basically my fault for already having a real mother.
i would be typing until i’m 87 if i could relay all the sacrifices that my mother has made for me and my brother to raise us, work 3 jobs to provide for us, ensure we have a good education, ensure we still have somewhere to live all by herself. doesn’t islam teach us to give back to our parents after what they have done for us? helping my mother out at home more than helping my step mum doesn’t even come close to giving back to her. shouldn’t it be understandable?
i want to disappear into thin air. oh my lovely readers. it’s too much. i’m not sure how much more i can take. i’m quite literally exploding inside. in anger. in hurt. i want to stand up for my mother. i want to be understood. i want my pain to be understood. i want to just be treated fairly. i want justice. and peace.
i used to dream of someone coming to rescue me from the hardship and have such a peaceful and beautiful family of my own. but i don’t want to just escape through marriage. i want to be understood and feel loved by my own.
but i realised a while ago that no one is coming to save me.
i knew that it would be Allah who would save me. but i thought that meant providing me a way out completely. moving me away permanently. letting me find peace elsewhere. and that has been true for these past few years while i’ve been at university, and will be true for my last year here. but i can’t study forever and keep doing more degrees. now i’m realising that there is also an escape by staying right where you are, in the midst of the turmoil, pain and anguish, but still feeling peace in that very environment. through taqwa; knowing that Allah is there. having God consciousness. and feeling His presence.
i know exactly the direction that Allah is pushing me in. when i saw Al-Basit, i thought that it was Allah expanding an opportunity for me to speak up. and, in a way, it was. but i realised that it’s also more than that.
laa ilaha ilAllah.
there is no god
but God.
analysing that, it’s interesting that we first declare that there is no god. it’s almost like emptying your cup. you can’t fill a cup that is already full, as the saying goes. to me, laa ilaha is the act of pouring all the water out. all the mini idols, the attachments, the ego/nafs. all of our deepest worldly desires.
even when you do pour all the water out of a cup, there are still some droplets left inside. these are the droplets that take the longest to finally drop out or evaporate and can be likened to the worldly things our heart is attached to the most. but even these tiny droplets need to go—and are the most important ones that need to go—before you finally land on ilAllah. except God.
i think life is a huge manifestation of laa ilaha ilAllah. everything that happens in life—all the loss, the disappointment, the suffering, the pain—it’s all to help us realise that there actually is nothing worthy of worship and being placed on a pedestal, except Allah. after you lose everything, after you endure so much disappointment from this life and after everything and everyone that you have ever loved and wanted slips right from your fingertips, you look around and realise there’s nothing left. you wander around in the darkness, in a barren desert at night, and ‘wonder what else is there? what else do i have?’. and that’s when you land on ilAllah. except Allah. there is no god, except Allah. and you fill your cup with Him, completely.
The likeness of this present life is only as water which We send down from the clouds, producing a mixture of plants which humans and animals eat till, when the earth receives its ornature and looks beautiful and its owners think that they have power over it, there comes to it Our command by night or by day and We render it a field that is mown down, as if nothing had existed there the day before. Thus do We expound the Signs for a people who reflect (10:25).
for many months now, i’ve been praying deeply for my ego (nafs) to eradicate. and in these past few months, i’ve been humbled, hurt, disappointed and, basically, ego-bruised in all the departments i have an ego in. i’ve been hurt by all the people i had an attachment to, held in high esteem or put on a pedestal to seek validation from. the situation i spoke about in ‘is Allah punishing me?’ is an example of my ego being bruised. so is this one here. so are the many things that have happened to me in this past year alone. i realise that it’s Al-Basit, the Expander, making space within me for my heart to shine through, by removing parts of my ego one by one. to help me solely rely on him.
‘Beware! There is a piece of flesh in the body if it becomes good (reformed) the whole body becomes good but if it gets spoilt the whole body gets spoilt and that is the heart’
Sahih al-Bukhari 52
islam is fundamentally rooted in surrendering yourself to Allah while removing attachments to this world. the ego (nafs) is what attaches itself to things and it’s emphasised time and time again that it must be eradicated. the nafs is what wants to be right, validated, seen, vindicated. it gives voices like, i’m not good enough. i’m unworthy. i’m going to prove them wrong. i’m more deserving. i’m better and will prove it. i’m unloveable. that should be me. i’m a failure. it’s what feels anger, resentment, injustice and all the negative emotions.
But his nafs induced him to kill his brother, so he killed him and became one of the losers (5:31).
And assuredly, We have created man and We know what his nafs whispers to him, and We are nearer to him than his jugular vein (50:17).
in comparison, i’ve always thought of the heart, intuition and gut feelings as inner guidance from Allah, once reformed and cleansed.
i’ve always wondered why Allah says, ‘And He it is Who has created for you ears, and eyes, and hearts; but little thanks do you give’ (23:79) over and over again in the Qur’an, but doesn’t really mention the brain.
He also says ‘Will they not, then, ponder over the Qur’an, or is it that on the hearts are their locks?’ (47:25). ‘ponder’ means to think and reflect. why does Allah say their hearts have locks on them, and not ‘their brain has a lock’? is it so, then, that we should really think with our brains?
the Beloved Prophet ﷺ has also said to seek a verdict from your heart, implying that that is where righteousness lies:
“Have you come to ask about righteousness?
Ask your own heart for a decision!
Righteousness is what calms the soul and reassures the heart. Sin is what troubles the soul and makes your heart restless - even if people give you a decision in its favour (to justify it)”.
i realised what Al-Basit was truly expanding after i called my friend. she’s been such a big part of my journey with my family, has listened to all my rants for a long time and encouraged me to speak up when i told her i want to but am afraid.
i told her that i feel half understood. that i thought that he would defend me completely. that i never expected the blame to be subtly put onto my mother as an excuse for my step mother lashing out at me.
she told me, one thing you need to realise in life is to never expect anything from anyone, not even your parents. you can’t control how people will receive the things you tell them, nor can you make people see things the way you do and make them feel the emotions you feel. you can only control the way you relay the information and how you respond and react.
after hearing this, i realised that this situation is another way the du’a i made asking Allah to remove my nafs is being answered. because i am egobruised. it hurts my ego that i don’t feel completely understood or validated, that i went to say that i feel like cinderella and get told that someone else is the cinderella—when that just couldn’t be further from the truth. i want my truth to be acknowledged and believed. i want everyone to be on my side. and i don’t want my mother to be subtly blamed in the process too—how can i go and say that i don’t like it when my step mum is rude about my mother and it gets spun on her for coming to an event at the mosque. and it also hurts my ego to know that my dad seems to be justifying the behaviour of a new family, despite saying that he’s not. all of this hurts. it really does. it’s not making me want an escape from here any less. but it is hurting my ego in all the places that it’s strong. the walls of my nafs are being torn apart, the cup is being emptied and i am slowly realising what the ilAllah in laa ilaha ilAllah truly means. that there is only Allah. He is the Only.
at least one thing i know is i was incredibly brave. i really was scared to speak up, and have been for years. and i know i didn’t speak up out of anger or spite or hatred. yet, i knew that if it’s getting to the point where it has brought back my anxiety, when it took years to heal the disorder, and is also affecting my iman (like i talked about in my previous post), then something needs to be said. for my own sake.
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.
at the end of the day, everybody is human and will view life with their own unique lens, shaped by their own life experiences. including my parents. and i cannot hold it against them. i’m really grateful for the fact that, even if i don’t feel completely understood, i was at least heard and listened to, and told that he will try and do something about it. alhamdulillah. i am happy about that. i guess it is his job to see things from both perspectives and, as that is his new family who lives with him, he will be looking out for them and their perspectives more. i understand, no matter how much it hurts.
so then, how comforting is it to rely on the One who is the Most Knowledgable, the Most Understanding, the Best of Planners and the Best of Providers? the One who expands moments of constriction and provides great comfort? i know that Allah, Al-Basit, will open up wonderful opportunities for me and grant me ease, provide for me and help me through these difficult times. i will trust Him while i carry life’s burdens on my shoulders, knowing it will never crush me and bring me down—even on days like today where it feels like it will.
oh, and one day, i’m going to have the most peaceful, gentle and loving household ever. Insha’Allah. one where you won’t want an escape from but one you’ll want to escape to. just you wait and see.
prompts/reflections:
can you think of times where Al-Basit has expanded moments of constriction for you and granted you ease?
how is Al-Basit prevalent in your life right now?
how do you want Al-Basit to help you in your life? what would you like expanding? ask yourself and once you know, make a quick du’a and invoke Him with this name. say, ‘Ya Basit…’ and ask Him.
grab a blessing:
Allahumma sali ‘ala Muhammad x3
(O Allah, send Your blessings on Muhammad ﷺ)
Hasbunallahu wa ni'mal wakeel
(Allah is Sufficient for us and He is the Best Disposer of affairs)
jazakallah for reading. this post is my most personal post yet. i’m quite nervous… i really never know how it will be received. i hope my dad doesn’t find this one day. God forbid. but honestly, because of you all, i feel really safe to be able to write honestly and authentically :’) you’ve all made me feel so comfortable to be vulnerable and share pieces of my life and journey with you, and show how it makes me turn to Allah. i would genuinely explode inside if i didn’t have some sort of creative outlet. so jazakallah and thank you for letting me feel safe enough to do so :) please remember me in your prayers. i’m feeling so overwhelmed at the moment with all of this. i’m trying to let it go and stop thinking about it…
nonetheless, sending lots of love,
— SabrGirl ♡
I appreciate the vulnerability and honesty in your writing. Opening up like this takes tremendous strength, and it shows just how deeply you are reflecting on your journey. To me, I don’t see a broken house or failure; I see resilience. I see someone striving, holding the pieces together with every ounce of strength, love, and care—qualities that Allah sees and rewards. What I see is a heart fighting to stay intact despite the challenges that life throws its way.
Personally, I have walked a path of self-doubt, where I sought validation from others, longing to be appreciated. But over time, I’ve come to adopt a philosophy rooted in the Sufi tradition: to seek the pleasure of Allah alone. As Sufis say, “God-pleasing is my religion.” It’s not easy, and I still struggle, especially with my own weaknesses and lapses in faith. But I’ve come to understand that true acknowledgment comes only from Allah, not people. We are taught that there are beings in the heavens whose purpose is to praise the ones whom Allah has chosen. Their praise is the only recognition that matters. This is what I strive for, even if I stumble along the way.
The hadith that resonates deeply with me is, “One who knows himself knows his Lord.” This is the essence of our journey—self-discovery. Perhaps this is why we feel such relief in moments of catharsis, like writing. Writing allows us to confront our true selves, beyond the layers of self-deception we often live behind. In uncovering our own soul, we inch closer to understanding Allah.
Speaking of the heart, it’s fascinating how science now confirms what the Quran has always emphasized. Recent studies have shown that the heart has its own nervous system, and in many ways, it can override the brain. The Sufis say that the heart is the real “CPU,” while the brain is merely a monitor. Allah constantly reminds us in the Quran to think and reflect with our hearts. “Do they not travel through the land so that their hearts may reason?” (Quran 22:46). The heart is the seat of true understanding and where the divine secrets are revealed.
On obedience to parents, the Quran is very clear: “And lower to them the wing of humility out of mercy, and say: My Lord, have mercy upon them as they brought me up when I was small” (Quran 17:24). Even the smallest expression of irritation, like saying “uff,” is forbidden. The Prophet Muhammad (PBUH) once said that if his mother had been alive and called him while he was praying, he would have broken his prayer to answer her call. This shows the immense value Islam places on honoring our parents. So when you serve your mother, know that you are fulfilling one of the greatest commands of Allah. What you do is blessed, no matter how difficult it may seem.
Look at our exemplars in Islam, especially the women who embody strength through trial. Bibi Fatima (AS), despite being the beloved daughter of the Prophet (PBUH), lived a life of simplicity and hardship. She would grind grain with her own hands and tend to her household despite the heavy demands on her. And look at her daughter, Bibi Zainab (RA), who stood firm during the tragedy of Karbala, embodying courage and dignity. She was the daughter of Sher-e-Khuda (the Lion of God), Hazrat Ali (AS), and her strength in the face of overwhelming sorrow speaks volumes about the inner fortitude passed down through her lineage.
And then there’s the story of Awais Qarni(RA), whose obedience to his mother kept him from meeting the Prophet (PBUH) in person. His love for the Prophet was profound, yet his mother’s command came first. For this, the Prophet honored him, despite them never meeting in this world. The Prophet (PBUH) said that if anyone could meet Awais, they should ask him to pray for them. This shows the high regard the Prophet (PBUH) had for him and the spiritual status he held due to his devotion and obedience. Imagine being recognized by the Messenger of Allah (PBUH) himself, solely because of your obedience and love for your mother. What a maqam!
As for patience and endurance, look at the wife of Pharaoh, Asiya (RA), who lived in unimaginable luxury yet faced the most severe trials. She was married to the most tyrannical man, yet Allah elevated her because of her faith and patience. She stood as a beacon of light amidst the darkness. Allah says of her in the Quran: “And Allah sets forth an example for those who believe—the wife of Pharaoh. Behold, she said: ‘My Lord! Build for me, in nearness to You, a mansion in the Garden, and save me from Pharaoh and his deeds’” (Quran 66:11). Despite her suffering, her heart was fixed on Allah alone.
Bibi Mariam (AS), too, is a perfect example of one chosen by Allah, yet subjected to trials that would crush the average soul. The Quran says of her: “And remember when the angels said, ‘O Mary, indeed Allah has chosen you, purified you, and chosen you above the women of the worlds’” (Quran 3:42). Despite her high status, she endured immense pain, yet she remained steadfast, knowing that her trials were from Allah.
Remember the words of Abu Huraira (RA), who said, “When I came to know that those most beloved to Allah are tested the most, I took the pain with honor.”
You are on a journey, one that leads to becoming among the friend of Allah, those about whom He says: “Indeed, the friends of Allah will have no fear, nor will they grieve” (Quran 10:62). The Wali of Allah only fears Allah, and this fear removes all other fears. Keep striving, keep moving, because what you are doing, as long as it is for Allah, is a path that leads to freedom from all grief and fear.
May Allah grant you strength in this journey, and may you find the peace and tranquility of the heart that comes from drawing nearer to Him. May your struggles be a means of elevation, and may Allah make your heart the place where divine light settles.
MashaAllah, I am really amazed by your strength and resilience! That's a really difficult position to put in, thank you for sharing your experiences authentically. I know you said you feel like you're not being understood by the people around you, but you sharing your experiences is making someone else going through a similar situation feel seen and heard and understood. At least you are able to communicate your experiences profoundly in a way that someone else may find comfort in knowing that they are not alone in this experience. I definitely relate to holding on to hope to have a peaceful, loving household "one where you won't want to escape from, but one you'll want to escape to". May Allah grant us this blessing in this life and the next, Ameen!