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Eid Mubarak . May Allah bless you, grant you the best of this dunya and akhirah. Ameen

I'm just now seeing this! I'm so sorry! Eid Mubarak!!! Ameen. It was a good one. Alhamdulilah. I hope that yours was even better.

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✊🏽

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As someone who has bipolar, this is really awesome, and everything is very professionally done. MashaAllah.

Thank you Muslim Tumblr for helping create this, it WOULD NOT have been possible without you. You all helped so much with your heartfelt stories and honest suggestions that inspired this journal. THIS IS FOR YOU ✊🏽 💜

I struggled with depression and anxiety after moving to a new country, having no friends, grades dropped and I got rejected from university. At my lowest point, I’d wonder if Allah cared about me or if He even existed. As cliché as it may sound, gratitude is what saved my life. I would write letters to Allah every day, thanking Him for the good things in my life. Even on the days where living was a struggle, I stuck to it. I gradually became more positive and motivated. Fast forward to today, I’m praying daily and doing all that I can to stay strong as a Muslim. Alhamdulillah.

Muslim mental health is hugely overlooked in our communities and it’s frustrating for all of us. No, you are not just overreacting or needing to “pray more” because you have a mental health condition. No, you are not hated by Allah and no, you are not alone. The mosque isn’t always a safe space for everyone and not all parents are educated on how they are impacting their children’s mental health. I have spent exactly a year after graduating university until now, working daily to create The Journal for Muslims. I believe it will help Muslims of all backgrounds build a positive daily routine around their Islam and be closer to Allah, as well as increasing productivity in school or work. I’ve already been using it myself and it freaking works! 

Please don’t ever think you are “too far gone” or that “it’s too late” to have a healthy relationship with Allah. It’s NEVER too late. Allah is waiting for you. PLEASE BOOST THIS POST and let’s change the narrative around Muslim mental health!  CLICK HERE TO GET A COPY OF THE JOURNAL. 

✏️ 📓 CLICK HERE TO GET YOUR COPY

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It's Been a Long Time

I stayed away from Tumblr for quite some time. I was inboxed. I kept the app on my phone, so I was aware of every private message, reblog, and like. I began spending more time on Instagram. I began a Wordpress to document my travel. I tried to stay away from here. If you've sifted through the years of posts, you already know why I vanished for some time. I was going to delete this account altogether. I've shared things that are still too painful for me to read about myself. Nonetheless, it has remained open because I've seen that people are continuing to learn and grow from the pain I shared. I suppose it's time to return. So much has happened, and it's been so many good things. Allah says, "With pain comes ease," and while my life is more exciting these days, it's also most calm. Perhaps Ramadan is a good time to come back. It's been a long time.

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It doesn’t look like much, but the streets are quiet except for a few guys visiting over tea and coffee. They’re waiting to pray fajr/morning prayer before they go to sleep. There’s a calmness in the night that I haven’t experienced back home. The athan/call to prayer has sounded followed by the sound of someone’s soothing recitation of the Qur'an. It echos out into the distance. Another masjed has begun calling for everyone to wake up before the sunrise to pray. It’s translation: “Allah is the Greatest. I acknowledge that there is no god but Allah. I acknowledge that Muhammad is the Messenger of Allah. Hasten to prayer. Hasten to success. Prayer is better than sleep. God is Greatest. There is no god but Allah.” It’s harmonious. It’s affirmation. I’m in the right place. #aculturedliving #cultured #culture #blog #blogger #write #writer #love #live #dream #fly #living #life #travel #traveller #traveling #home #egypt #egyptian #alexandria #motherland #africa #goodnight #islam #allah #quran #muslim #muslimah (at Alexandria, Egypt)

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I leave tomorrow. I woke up every hour making lists in my head of things I still have left to do. I’m exhausted. I am truly exhausted, and my stomach has gymnasts doing Simone Biles flips in there. I cannot tell you how big this is for me. There are many people who never leave their hometowns. There are others who never venture outside of their home states, and there are many others who can’t fathom a reason to leave their home country. It wasn’t until I became Muslim that I began to truly wonder in complete fascination about people from other countries and their respective cultures. Our places of worship are so diverse that I became so close to Nigerians, Arabs, South Asians, Japanese, and so on. Sitting with them, hearing their stories of home, experiencing their culture through them started to become not enough for me. I had to see it, taste it, and live it. I continuously get asked whether I’m afraid. You have no idea how afraid I am, but I’m not afraid of what you think I should be. I’m not afraid of uprisings and protests. I’m not afraid of being kidnapped, something much more likely to happen here than there. I’m afraid of being uncomfortable. I’m afraid of taking this journey and failing. It’s not about failing at others’ expectations; it’s about failing at my own. I have lived my entire life up until this point trying to please other people. There are only two things I’ve done for myself. I became Muslim for myself. I’m traveling abroad for myself. And although I’m nervous as heck, this has to be the happiest time of my life. I want my little sister to see me do this and know that the world is hers. It’s all hers. Our only limitations are the limitations we put on ourselves. #aculturedliving #cultured #live #live #dream #travel #traveler #write #writer #blogger #blog #hope #grow #growth #goodmorning #inspire #inspiration #motivate #motivation

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Dear Dad,

This is my favorite picture of us. I remember going outside, excited to pick the fruits of our labor. I was so proud of these tomatoes, and I was beaming as hard as I could behind mine. I remember the disposable camera mom used to take it. This was during the time that I left you cards on the TV, saying you were my best friend in the whole world. You would walk in, alcohol usually on your breath, and I would run into the kitchen screaming, “Swing me daddy! Swing me!” No one could say a bad thing about you. I was your twin. I wanted to be a carpenter just like you. I would take scraps of wood, put them together, and say, “Look at my house, Daddy.” It wasn’t until my teenage years when I began to realize that you weren’t my hero. When you would come home and see the bruises, you didn’t save me. And I held that against you until I became Muslim and learned that I still have to love you because you’re my dad for Allah’s sake. And I did. Even through abusive words that no father should express to his daughter. I just prayed about it. It wasn’t until recently, when you said that all black women are nothing and that I was nothing that I completely lost my respect for you. It took 29 years for me to lose it completely, and I’ll love you forever, but you’re bad for me. I knew it wasn’t about me, but you decided to use me to feel better. And that was too familiar to come from my dad. When I screamed and cursed at you, I didn’t recognize that person I allowed you to bring out of me. I won’t do it again. Allah says to keep ties with your parents. He didn’t say that I had to talk you every day. He didn’t say that I had to withstand abuse, but I love you. It hurts that, when I just saw you, you looked at me as if I was something vile. I’m moving to Egypt, Dad. I’m going on a new journey, so this is where we part ways, but I’ll always be your daughter. I’ll always be sure to represent the best part of you in spite of you. May Allah soften your heart. Ameen.

Goodbye, Your First Born #aculturedliving #cultured #travel #traveling #traveller #family #blood #newbeginnings #beginagain #begin #fly #leap #jump #africa #motherland #love #live #dream #heal #letgo #childhood

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This is amazing.

Embracing Duality with Iraqi-American Ahmed

Today, we’re joining Ahmed in encouraging storytellers to express themselves by rolling out a comment moderation tool that everyone can use. We are committed to keeping Instagram a safe and positive place for self-expression.

Ahmed (@mesopotami) believes in the power of storytelling and creativity. “When we first landed in America, I didn’t really know exactly where I belonged,” says the 18-year-old, who was born in Iraq but spent two years as a refugee in Syria before his family received asylum in the US in 2008. Now, he is thriving in college in Connecticut and says his challenges inspired him to found Narratio.org, a site which publishes art, photography, fiction and poetry by young people — and to write his own memoir too.

“I think that youth worldwide can turn their passions into something that can benefit whole communities, and even whole countries,” Ahmed says, but he acknowledges how important it is for creators to feel their work will be appreciated. “In order for a platform to prosper and thrive, a safe community must be established. We are all walking stories, meant to be appreciated and shared, forming the colorful thread that frames our humanity.”

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Eid Mubarak! My only celebration is much-needed rest in my bed. 😴Alhamdulilah.

Eid Mubarak to all!!! I love you and Allah loves you too!!! 💖💖💖

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We are no longer married, but I'm still Muslim. I told them it wasn't for any man. Alhamdulilah.

"Where Are You From?"

While checking out my items at a halal meat shop in Paterson, NJ, an older Muslim woman of Arabian descent greeted me at the counter. She was a few inches shorter than I am, and she wore a black abaya with a black, glitter-adorned headscarf. As I gave her my money, she kept staring at me, smiling all the while. 

“Where are you from?” she asked as I was getting ready to head out of the door.

“Mississippi,” I replied, certain that my response would not satisfy her.

This was not the first time that I had been asked about my place of origin. Upon becoming Muslim, I was asked often, but it never really bothered me to be asked. Before Islam, I was never mistaken for anything besides African American, so it was flattering to be seen as something else. Needless to say, it now affects me like nails screeching down a chalkboard. People never believe me, and when they discover that I am not from some exotic land, they question the validity of my conviction. After perusing through my family tree and the places from which they came, they always look puzzled. Then I finish it with, “My husband is from Syria,” and they are always happy with that.

Perhaps, Islam began in the lands of the Arabs, but it is not the Arabs’ religion. I do not have to prove my right to be Muslim to anyone, and I do not have to work toward anyone’s acceptance. I often tell my husband about my run-ins with these Muslims, and he sighs, unhappy that I have to deal with such nonsense. My husband did not ask me to be Muslim; he merely introduced us. I became interested because he exemplified the best man I had ever met. I asked him to marry me, so it was not like my being Muslim was a part of the criteria necessary for me to be his wife. With Allah’s help, it was my conviction and determination to be better in my own life that pushed him to want to be a better Muslim in his. Therefore, do not dwell on where I am from; instead, ponder on how far I have come.

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Prayers Needed

I don't know her last name. I feel like I should have asked more questions. I don't even know her voice because we only communicated through texts. I got her to send me a picture. I'm so glad I have that. I only know her as Mary. She's 15, and she's only been Muslim about 5 months. She lives in NYC, and she's been living in an abusive home. After talking to her almost every day for the past week or two in hopes that she didn't do something drastic like kill herself or her abusive guardian, I tried to brainstorm solutions to get her out. Tonight she's in foster care somewhere, and I don't know if she's ok because she has to give up her phone. I'm not posting this for likes or compliments on how great of a person you think I am. I just know that prayer makes all the difference. Please pray for Mary. Additionally, pray for all the reverts you know. Many of us come from painful backgrounds like this. I'm so worried about her.😔

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This is beautiful.

umrah with my hubby one day insha allah :P

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Oh my God! This was so hard to watch, but it's necessary for us to remember. We're not going through anything. Subhanallah. From God we come. To him we return. May Allah heal this man's heart and prevent it from hardening against the world.

A father crying his wife and son. Bab al-Nairab, Aleppo.

“Aleppo today, yesterday and every day.”

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😂

Okay so I’m watching my friend’s cats while she’s away and she left me descriptions so I could tell who’s who

They’re pretty accurate 

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Where are My NY Muslim Women?! 😆

Asalamu alaikum!!! I have a Muslim sister looking for friends in NY. She's a new Muslim, and she's 15. Alhamdulilah. If you are in that area, please contact me so that I can put her in contact with you. Muslim women and girls only!

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Alhamdulilah for Everything!

When you're deep in your sadness and your hurt, you think that you'll never come out of it. You just know that you will feel that pain forever. When your heart is broken, you don't believe that it could ever be healed. Allah/God made us stronger than we can fathom. Just 6 months ago, I barely left my bed. Smiling was a chore. Even praying was difficult to do. I'm smiling big right now. I'm out in this sunshine. I'm soaking its rays through my hijab. I'm living, and I'm loving. A very dear friend reminded me that life is a test and a struggle. It's not meant to be our heaven or our paradise. It's meant to be our journey to paradise. Alhamdulilah for everything.

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What's up with them big ole lips?!

I’m not sure what you mean, but I personally think my lips are beautiful. If this was meant to be mean, it didn’t make me upset. 😝