Life Lived for Light

Since I was a child, Allah has always made His presence undeniably clear to me. Not just in the obvious signs, but in the quiet ones—in the way He comforted my heart in solitude, in the way He let truth flicker in my soul even when everything around me was confusing. He helped me believe, piece by piece. He knew my personality. He knew what would spark my faith, and He guided me accordingly—never rushing it, always aligning it with who I was becoming.

In recent years, though, many people have misunderstood that connection.

Some thought I was part of some cult. Others believed I turned directly toward Allah only because I made a mistake, or because I couldn’t handle the grief after my father passed away. But what they didn’t know—what they couldn’t see—were the gruesome, emotional realities that lived inside that house. The suffering that was kept behind closed doors. The spiritual war that tried to eat away at my light.They didn’t know how Allah preserved me.

They didn’t know that I didn't just pray for survival, but for sincerity

And they couldn’t recognize that my closeness to Him wasn’t born from fear, but from truth, love, and pure intentions.

That’s why I speak often about how Allah guides each of us according to our lives, our personalities, and even our aspirations. He doesn’t impose a generic blueprint for belief. He inspires us in ways only our hearts can understand. He tailored my path—because the life I was living needed a very specific kind of light to shine through the darkness.

When the truth became too hard to carry in silence, I had to step down—emotionally, socially, physically—from everything that was being affected. I’ve lost roles, lost relationships, and been cast aside in some ways. But what they were missing—what no one could erase—was the love and truth that I couldn’t hide anymore

I’ve felt it clearly:

Allah has warned me that my time in this life is going to be shorter than expected.

And more recently, He has appointed that it is soon.

That’s not something I say lightly. That’s not grief or despair talking. That’s a knowing --the kind that comes when your soul is in tune with its Lord. When you’ve made peace with what you must leave behind, and when your heart is fully aware of the greater world that waits beyond this one.

So I don’t beg for understanding anymore. I just leave behind these words…

For those who wonder and thise who judge.

For those who might one day need to remember how true love for Allah—never needed to be explained.