raquellbezz

[raquellbezz]

Break Me Gently

Dear sister (or brother),

Sacrifice. Do we truly understand what it means?

To lay yourself down, piece by piece, and allow Allah — the One who sees every hidden tear — to tear down and rebuild your soul… Do you know what that feels like?

To give up not only comfort, but identity… To surrender friends, family, career, even dreams… To bury parts of yourself that once felt essential, because He asked for it.

And when all that's left is just Him — when the silence becomes so deep you can barely hear your own heartbeat, when your world collapses and His presence is the only light left — can we still say, “Alhamdulillah”?

We say Labayka ya Hussain… But do we truly understand it? Can we stand where Lady Zaynab a.s stood, watching everything crumble in front of her, and still whisper: “I see nothing but beauty”?

Ya Allah… Break me, if You must. Shatter the illusions, the attachments, the things I hold tighter than You. But rebuild me in Your mercy. Make something beautiful from these ruins. Something worthy of You.

You know my soul. You see the parts I hide. The wounds I never speak about. The nights when I whisper please, don't leave me.

Ya Rabb… Let me joy come from You, not the world. Let my tears fall for You, not for disappointment. Let every heartbeat echo Your Name, and let every breath carry Your light.

Let the one who reads this—and maybe recognizes something between these lines—know this too: even in your silence, you are not forgotten. That your effort is seen by the One who counts every step. Your sacrifice, your struggles, the heaviness you carry— it all mattes. It all reaches Him.

And I pray He never lets you feel alone, even when you're walking a path no one else understands. Because I know what that feels like. And I know what you are trying to carry.

[raquellbezz]

Dear sister, can we talk?

Not about trends. Not about marriage plans or what's going viral.

But about something deeper. Something real.

The return of Imam al-Mahdi (ajf) and Prophet Isa (as) isn’t just a beautiful story we hold on to when life feels hard. It’s something we need to prepare for. Truly. Not just in theory, but in our hearts, our homes, and our choices.

And sis, that preparation isn’t just for the brothers.

We, as women, carry a role that’s powerful, even if it’s quiet.

We shape the next generation. Not only that, but we keep the flame of faith burning in a world that keeps trying to blow it out. We protect the values of Islam even when everything around us pulls in the opposite direction.

And I know—it’s not easy.

Especially when our men are struggling, lost, tired, or just trying to survive. But that’s exactly why we need women like Lady Zainab (as):

Strong. Steady. Brave.

Even when everything hurts. Even when we feel alone.

Being ready for the Imam (ajf) doesn’t mean just reading more books (though that helps). It means working on our character.

Building patience, emotional strength, faith that holds on even when things fall apart. It means raising kids who, when the Imam (ajf) comes, recognize him—and don’t say, “If we had known, we would’ve followed…”

We lose ourselves sometimes, don’t we?

Trying to figure out “what it means to be a woman” in this noisy world. But we forget: Islam already told us.

Our womb is sacred. Shaping a soul is greater than ruling any kingdom, and the women who raise the soldiers of the Imam (ajf) have to be women of noor, courage, and deep taqwa.

This isn’t about shrinking.

It’s about stepping into the massive trust Allah gave us. Because not everyone is asked to shape the future.

But we are.

And I get it—marriage is beautiful, it is natural and half of faith.

But some of us are starting to believe that we’re only valuable after marriage.

That our lives only begin once there’s a husband beside us.

Sis… that’s not true. It cannot be the centre of our life, the reason for our sadness, or the measure of our worth.

What if Allah is using this time to shape you into a woman who lays the foundation before marriage?

What if He’s building your soul so you can love someone who’s still learning to love himself?

Or what if you’re meant to mother hearts even before you mother children?

We don’t have to wait to become spiritual mothers—of friends, of little sisters, of those who feel lost.

Marriage is a gift, yes.

But being a woman of Allah… That’s something no timeline or title can define, and you don't have to wait until you're married to get closer to Him.

You, walking with Allah, are never behind.

You’re not “less” because you’re not married.

Likewise, you’re not forgotten.

When you know your worth to Allah, you stop chasing what was never meant to define you.

The neediness? It becomes peace.

The waiting? It becomes preparation.

Even the pain? It becomes a ladder pulling you closer to Him.

Sometimes Allah delays to give you better.

Sometimes He says “no” to lift you higher.

And sometimes He places you in silence, in loneliness, in hard moments because when the call of the Imam (ajf) finally echoes through this world, He wants your heart to be ready.

Ready to say, “Here I am.”

Ready to stand firm.

To be light.

So let’s keep going. With taqwa. With intention. Plus hope.

Because we are part of something way, way bigger than us.

And He sees everything. Every tear. Every whispered du'a. Every hard choice.

And He never disappoints those who trust Him.

You’re not alone, sis.

We’re walking this path together.

And every step… takes us closer to Him.

From the bottom of my heart,

Raquel