today i'm 21 but have I really aged?

sabr or... birthday... girl?

my dad spent a lot of time on his computer when i was growing up, typing away at different documents and doing all sorts of work. i was always an observant kid and watched him as he typed away, so it was very soon that, when he went to work, i went over to his study to sit on the big desk chair, turned on his computer and somehow managed to open Microsoft Word when I was about four or five years old. i already knew how to read, so i got my favourite picture books and began to find the letters on the keyboard, slowly copying the stories word for word as if i had written them myself. as if i was an author who had a book published. i would often spend so much time on this, going through all of my favourite children’s books, then printing them out to show my mama.

but my childhood didn’t last very long. soon after, life began to get difficult, and i never had time to write. i still had the passion for it. it was always there within me, but it was lost. it was stuck deep within, along with the rest of my lost treasures that were locked away from the troubles of the world— the troubles of a child who was forced to hide herself away and forcefully crack open the small, undeveloped fetus of adulthood within.

now, as i’m writing this, i’m glancing over at my little bookshelf in my room. i open specific books when i need inspiration for my own fiction. now, i have this very newsletter where i write weekly and feel emotional when my subscribers tell me they relate deeply to my struggles and that i gave them the motivation to push through. now, i have a novel coming along because of my degree. alhamdulillah.

isn’t it strange how life works? you get older as you age, that much is true. yet, i’ve never felt more young in my life. growing up, i felt like i was an adult in a child’s body. i was forced to mature quickly. i was forced to be the adult. i was forced to come out of my shell and deal with real-life problems, be the responsible one, the one that had to fix things. but now that i’m older, i feel like a child in an adult’s body. baby sabrgirl, she thinks it’s safe to come out now. she’s been waiting, patiently waiting—hiding and clutching onto my soul. she watched me as i made my decisions in life. sometimes, over the years, sighing and crying, wondering what are you doing? what happened to us, sabrgirl? other times, and most times for a while now, smiling for joy. i’ve been carving an entrance for her to make a comeback. i’ve been doing the hard work. i’ve been removing the boulders within that have been blocking her from coming out. taking out the baggage, one by one. turning right to Allah سُبْحَٰنَهُۥ وَتَعَٰلَىٰ and praying deeply for help and guidance. spending many hours in therapy. doing shadow work that makes me shiver in anxiety when addressing the things that have given me the most trauma in life. learning lessons along the way with every goodbye and with every hello. and in doing this, i’ve been hearing her tiptoes echoing inside my body as she’s slowly been creeping forward, ever so gently. 

today, i’m 21, and i stand here holding her hand. today, i’m finally a child again.

i love pink. i love watching barbie movies—barbie and a christmas carol is my favourite, the message behind it heals me every time. i love winnie the pooh. i love writing. i love waking up in the morning and seeing the sun coming through the blinds; it’s a beautiful day. i pout my lips and fold my arms when i’m mad. when i see ducks waddling on the grass, i follow them and smile as their little tails shake. i throw tantrums and complain that my mum loves my brother more when she tells me i need to be more like him and start drinking more water. sorry i can’t be perfect like your perfect child!!!! and most of all, Allah سُبْحَٰنَهُۥ وَتَعَٰلَىٰ is my Bestest Friend in the whole world. 

He was my Best Friend growing up. unfortunately, our friendship was also one of the lost treasures that got trapped deep inside me. it was my fault. it was me who forgot. i used to write Him letters and i stood up on my bed, stretching my arms to reach the top of the tall wardrobe in my room so that it would be easier for Him to take the letter from up there. i’d see the same letter every day and wonder why He hadn’t taken it yet. i used to play ring-a-ring-a-roses with Allah and stretched out my hand for Him to hold as I spun with my friends (who were wondering why on earth I was doing that and not holding their hands to complete the circle). i didn’t know what to say in my salah yet. so i just prayed in every part of it—in qiyam, in ruku, in sujood—‘please can i fly, Allah? please can i fly?’ while i was in my tinkerbell phase. i told everyone in school about God and how no matter what you pray for, He’ll answer it. 

‘let’s just try it out, let’s see. let’s pray that it will be wet play’ (in my country, that was when it was raining outside and too cold and wet, so the teachers made you play inside at lunchtime instead). 

when the teacher called for wet play that day, heads were shot to me, and i said, ‘see!!! i told you!!!’ and the day when my old primary school friend told me that she doesn’t believe in God, i felt my heart fall out of my chest for the first time in my life—physically shocked and frozen that my ears started buzzing. ‘what do you mean you don’t believe in God? is that even a thing? that’s like saying you don’t believe in… clouds!’

oh, little sabrgirl. she had never even heard of atheists in her life. just wait until she gets older and realises there’s a whole world out there that doesn’t believe in God. it’ll hurt her deeply. 

but things got a little lost along the way, as life got tough and i was forced to grow up and mature. things got bad. but it was in the depths of being so low that i found Allah again. and He pulled me back to Him. He would subtly show me He was there as the years went on through my teens, and i remember that it was immediately after my eighteenth birthday that i was hit with religious dream after dream after dream. i had no idea what any of these dreams meant or why i was having them all the time. but while my dad interpreted them as meaning my entry into adulthood would be blessed with knowledge and wisdom, i eventually realised it was Allah telling me that my adulthood would be filled with nearness to Him and finding Him again. and it was indeed by the end of my eighteenth year where i truly felt as though i fixed our relationship and felt like i was the most religious i’ve ever been (at that point in my life). 

today, Allah is my Bestest Friend again. He has been for a while now. i talk to Him all the time. i cry when people don’t believe. i don’t play ring-a-ring-a-roses anymore but sometimes i stay on my prayer mat when i’m finished and do some work on my laptop to still be in His company. or leave out an empty plate when i’m eating dinner alone and apologise for not putting any food on it. but then say well it’s not like you were gonna eat it anyway. i no longer only pray for big and important things. i pray for simple, little things too, now. like catching the bus. or making it to my class on time when i’m running late. 

they say that Allah never changes, but as you get closer to Him, He introduces Himself to you in new ways you hadn’t known before, so He seems like a changed or new God to you. and that’s what it’s been like for me, alhamdulillah. i used to think of Allah as One who was up there in the heavens, watching over everything, having control and power over everything. and while He does, of course, now that He’s truly my Best Friend, i realise that He’s not just up there—i see Him in everything. He’s all around me. (see more in my post: for the sake of Allah) 

“so wherever you turn, there will be the face of Allah” (2:116).

i’m finally a child again. i’ve grown older but i’m young. and it feels great. it feels safe. and it feels safe by myself. i don’t need to be safe through someone else anymore. i’m safe here, with myself, with Allah. you get older as you age, that much is true. today i’m 21. but have i really aged?

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Attribute of the Month: Al-Maalik ul Mulk, the Master of the Kingdom:

• “Verily, in the alternation of night and day, and in all that Allah has created in the heavens and the earth there are Signs for a God-fearing people” (10:7)
  
  no master or king would leave no sign of himself in the kingdom that he rules. so why would the King of all kings not leave any signs in plain sight for people to reflect on? every day, for example, as the verse states, we have morning and night that come perfectly without fail. if such vast celestial bodies were to move from their place, surely the entire earth would be in destruction. and yet, for billions of years, nothing has ever gone wrong in the alternation of night and day? the moon has never collided with the earth? the sun, which blazes intense heat and even looking at it can blind you, has never set us completely on fire? subhanallah. there are so many signs in the heavens and the earth that are signs of His existence and His Rulership over His kingdom. and reflecting on it is an act of worship. take some time to observe everything around you, every blessing and magnificence that surrounds you in these last few days of the month and praise Allah for His Majesty and Glory. 

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Grab a Blessing:

• hasbi Allahu laa ilaaha illa huwa alayhi tawakkaltu wa huwa Rabbul ‘arshil ‘adheem.
  
  (Allah is sufficient for me. There is none worthy of worship but Him. I have placed my trust in Him. He is the Lord of the Majestic throne)

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jazakallah for reading :’) please keep my academic assignments/finals in your prayers. sending lots of love,

— birthdaySabrGirl ♡