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Allah’s guidance is always consistent with the knowledge you carry and the ability you have in each phase of your life. It’s never random. It’s always precise. And it actively considers everyone involved in your story. It’s not a one-stop drop of inspiration meant only for you—because that wouldn’t be fair to the people connected to you. That’s why He asks us to uphold the responsibility of conveying what we know. Not to boast. Not to appear “chosen.” But to maintain balance. To help others stay afloat while we’re learning to swim ourselves.This kind of conveyance—sharing Allah’s signs and insights—is often misunderstood. People perceive it through their own fears, their own insecurities, or their limited expectations of who’s allowed to speak about divine matters. So when I speak, or when I wear the garment, or when I live in quiet obedience, some see it as a performance—as if I’m seeking empty credit. But I know what I’ve been called to. And the more Allah draws me closer to understand the hearts of the people in my life, the more I realize: the distance they place between what they hear and what they see is not my burden to fix.<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: calc(16px * var(--body-fontSize, 1)); font-style: var(--body-fontStyle, normal); -webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%;" data-mce-style="font-family: inherit; font-size: calc(16px * var(--body-fontSize, 1)); font-style: var(--body-fontStyle, normal); -webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%;"> There’s a version of my story that people have decided to write for me—one that fits neatly into the tropes they’ve seen on TV or heard in gossip. A mother. A school. A principal. They assume I played into that tired narrative—the one where emotions run out of control, boundaries dissolve, and something inappropriate unfolds. But that’s not my story. That’s theirs. The truth is far less dramatic and far more sacred.What people don’t understand is that feelings don’t always arrive with logic. They aren’t scheduled. They don’t ask for permission to exist. They just surface—quietly, unexpectedly. And from the beginning, I did the work of honoring them without acting on them. Because I had a greater responsibility—a sacred one. I’m a mother. I have children. And I believe wholeheartedly that our choices shape the fate of our families.So when I began to feel something toward my son’s principal, I didn’t follow the feeling—I confronted it. I questioned it. I gave it to Allah. And I kept giving it to Him. Because if it wasn’t from Him, I didn’t want it to grow.The relationship always stayed professional. The boundary was never blurred. And not because it was easy, but because I had already committed to something deeper: staying in alignment with what pleases Allah. That takes strength. That takes control. That takes surrender.There were signs I couldn’t ignore like moments, thoughts, and of course dreams. But none of them gave me permission. They only deepened my discipline. So instead of feeding my emotions, I redirected them. I read Surah Al-Kahf every Friday three times twice for my children and I and and the third I dedicated it to my feelings for him—not because I wanted to chase something, but because I had to place it where it would be safest, and Allah already made His safety known to me.&nbsp;And even as people began to speculate—“Why did he become Muslim?” “How can there be so many coincidences?”—I remained quiet. Because they don’t know the internal work. They don’t know the nights I cried in sujood. They don’t know the promises I made to Allah. What looked like “magic” to them was actually discipline, prayer, and submission.The truth is, even when I believed something divine might be unfolding, I never moved without caution. I never allowed my emotions to overstep what I knew to be right. Because I understood the laws of the Quran. A married woman is not to be approached about family matters. If her husband is unavailable, then the father, the brother, the uncle—these are the men to carry that responsibility. It’s not a restriction—it’s protection. And I honored it.But the world doesn’t always value restraint. They confuse silence with guilt, and boundaries with secrets. They think I’m rewriting rules or chasing a new life. But all I’ve ever done is follow Allah’s timing. What they call “coincidence,” I call qadr. What they call “convenient,” I call obedience.And yes, my family has been blessed. Not just in provision, but in faith, in patience, in spiritual wealth. And we’ve used that to grow within our boundaries—not outside of them. Even with the current separation from my ex-husband, we are still a unit. No one can erase that. Because life isn’t just made of good things—it’s made of struggles, too. Even Shaytan wasn’t removed from the story. That’s how fair Allah is. He lets us choose who we are.So let the world assume what it will. I’ve already handed the truth over to the only One who matters. And Alhamdulillah, He’s never failed to return it with peace—even now, in my current living circumstances, sleeping in my car. It’s just one example of how deeply misunderstood this story has been, from the very beginning up until this present moment. What looks like downfall to some is actually a lesson in surrender, faith, and unwavering trust in Allah. And even in declaring that statement, this story is prone to the notion &nbsp;that you’ll only believe me because I said so. And that is the ultimate reality.&nbsp; Because Allah will show them the truth—either through me or around me. Whatever truth they’ve been putting off, denying, or avoiding in how they perceive my words or my presence, He will reveal. My job is to stay sincere, stay grounded, and let His light speak louder than my own.

Fear-Less In Distress

Blueberries Bush with Ripe Clusters of Fruit

I used to always say that having three children completed the idea of what family meant to me—the rhythm, the dynamic, the sibling bond. There’s something about that number that always felt balanced, like it gave just the right mix of chaos and companionship.There was a time when my sister and I lived in the same city for a few months, and she enrolled her daughter in the same school as my son. Despite living in different cities before that, our children were already close—FaceTiming, playing online games, growing up in sync even at a distance. Her daughter and my son were only six months apart, and we used to joke that they looked like twins. Honestly, they still do.Over the years, we shared a tight bond with my sister and her daughters. We experienced every phase together—from toddlerhood to early adolescence. We did a wide range of activities, but truthfully, we didn’t need to do much to feel joy in each other’s company. It was one of those effortless connections rooted in comfort and familiarity.One day, my niece was at school and wasn’t feeling her best emotionally, so she went to the nurse. They couldn’t reach my sister, so they called me. I tried calling her too—no answer. They were in a new city, a new school, and my niece didn’t have her father around. I knew the emotional weight she was carrying, and I wanted to step in—not to replace anyone, but to fill the emotional void until her mom could be reached. That’s what I do when I love someone—I just show up.So I brought her home with me and decided we’d bake blueberry muffins together. I’ve always been a baker at heart, and I thought it might help her feel grounded and uplifted. She needed to get out of her head and into something warm and familiar. To me, caring for a child includes their emotional and mental well-being. If they’re in my care, I don’t just babysit—I nurture.But that small act—that quiet moment of connection—somehow lit a fire between my sister and me. It bruised her ego in a way I didn’t expect. Her daughter’s natural display of happiness in my home felt threatening to her, as though she couldn’t keep up or compete with what she thought I was offering.The truth is, we’ve always led very different lives. Our parenting styles, our homes, the way we cook, clean, spend time—it’s all different. I gravitate toward natural settings and products, even if it takes longer. I find peace in slower, intentional living. But none of that was ever meant to be a comparison.Her insecurities, especially in the context of her marital struggles and sense of control, made it easy to project those fears onto me. But I was never trying to take her place. I was just trying to be there for a child who needed comfort. That’s it. That’s all.There was this strange, almost unspoken pattern that began to unfold between my sister and me. A weird sequence of events where her energy would shift into something awkward, tense, almost cold—but never directly confrontational. She wouldn’t say anything outright, but her body language, her shortness, the subtle jabs or silences—it all spoke louder than words.And yet, somehow, even in those moments where it was obvious she was upset or threatened, she would still take from me. My time, my presence, my help. She still leaned on me—without acknowledgment, without reciprocity. And no matter how much I gave, the energy always felt lopsided. I wasn’t keeping score, but I started to feel the imbalance.It’s funny how people assume that if your schedule isn’t pinned to a time clock, you must be free. As if not having a 9-to-5 means your hours belong to everyone else. But just because my responsibilities weren’t conventional or outwardly validated doesn’t mean they weren’t real. My work, my presence, my choices—they all required attention, commitment, and a full heart. I just didn’t need a punch card to prove I was showing up.I value family dynamic deeply and I never measure my efforts by obligation, but by love. Yet that love often felt exploited. Like she couldn’t fully celebrate my strengths without comparing them to her own challenges. And instead of leaning in with humility or gratitude, she’d pull away with pride, resentment, or indifference—but only after collecting the parts of me that served her needs.It became emotionally exhausting, navigating a bond that was both close and fragile, supportive yet strained. I never stopped loving my nieces or wanting to be a positive presence in their lives. But the emotional toll of being both a safe place and a silent target—that’s the part no one really sees. Especially when your youngest niece turned out to be my children's sibling.&nbsp;

Even or Odd Amount of Blueberries

When Allah reveals truth, it is never without purpose. The Qur’an makes it clear: if even the Prophet were to alter the message, he would be seized and punished — not because he ever would, but to show us how serious it is to uphold truth with integrity.Yet people today manipulate, delay, and reshape truth to fit their comfort zones. Sensitive matters like abuse or injustice are often silenced, distorted, or turned into drawn-out narratives meant to exhaust the seeker rather than support them. And the worst of it? When there are valid, active witnesses to the more critical part of the matter — and they are ignored.Surah Al-Qalam reminds us how people once laughed at those who walked in truth. They mocked the righteous, looked down on them, and assumed they had lost. But Allah shows us that those same mockers will one day have their eyes cast down in regret. The ones they belittled will be raised, and they will have to come forward — not for the sake of others, but to free themselves from the natural, karmic consequence of deception.The laws of this world are not just physical. They’re spiritual. What is suppressed will surface. What is lied about will be exposed. People will eventually feel the spiritual weight of their dishonesty, and they will confess — not always out of righteousness, but to find peace within themselves.Those who endured, who were patient in their struggle, who didn’t fabricate a need or try to benefit from what wasn’t theirs — Allah saw them. And He’s the One who brings clarity when the world is confused, and justice when the system is silent.In the end, truth does not belong to the loudest voice. It belongs to Allah — and those who remained true, even when it hurt, will be honored.

The Pen Rights

I was just built that way —Built by rejection, by love, by denial and correction.Love found in the cracks of deception.The need for progression through phases.Guided by the face of instruction,Tainted by the pressures of perfection,Vilified by those housed in addiction. That’s why every time I searched for safety,I was only granted temporary relief.Because paranoia is born from survival —The gift of being able to discern a predator from the faintest outline. From a young age, I inherited a hyperactive pattern of detection.It kept me in the safe zone,Until even the safe zone turned against me.As if this whole reality was breaking “news”To those now pulled into the experience,Who will eventually realize:It was a mistake to let Shaytan dictate the meaning of my medical results. Whether you see it as a disruption or a weakness —The truth is, my protection from AllahIs the very outcome of this perceived treason.It’s not something new,And it’s not something old.It has just always been this way. And even in the hardest ways,Allah teaches us how to trust His belief in us.But no one finds the promised gardenBy standing behind the gate that holds back the riot. So if my results will always be federally withheld,If they’ll be rewritten, distorted, and controlled —Then the reality is:I’ll always be what you believe me to be —Federally rejected. But you know my truth.You’ve seen it every step of the way.This isn’t to distort life’s sacred display —I’ve been judged by them,And I’ve been judged by you.And your judgment holds weightBecause you hold all the clues. There’s no other way to describe what we both know.Because we both representThe source of proof that He cloned.FBI — in the sky, with justice and truth.&nbsp;Firm. Belief. Instilled.&nbsp; How easy it is for people to perceive acts of faith as weakness —As if calling on Allah is a desperate attempt to escape failure,To cope with the inability to attain, to possess, or to be acclaimed.But you know better.You’ve seen how I’ve fallen into every category of weakness,And yet — my good nature, though often misread,Is proof that faith is not weakness, but strength under fire.Your own intelligence brought you here —On the pretense that I was someone unworthy.And still, even after one night, people soften.Allah laid everything out in full. By His design,He taught us to distinguish deception from peace —And in His noble manner, He gives both as signs. To twist my wrongful arrest into something shameful,After all you’ve done to protect and guide —It’s a contradiction to the very position you hold.You were present.You protected.You prevented.And you did it with intellect and heart,Because you saw firsthand what I didn’t —What my children experienced in the silence of night.You were a witness to their painAnd a witness to the teachings I gave themSo they could protect themselves. So no —My arrest, my health scare,Or even my need for distance —They aren’t signs that I’m unworthy.They are the consequences of unseen forces using your hands against me.And Allah knew that force would push hard against my truth —Which is why He introduced us.To bring forward what He’s destined for this nation. I told an agent recently:This isn’t a race.I don’t need to make promises, respectfully,Because you already know my face. And what I’m saying now —Is the most important message I’ve ever relayed. I’ve shown you,In every action, word, and prayer,That this is real.That I proclaim the firm truth of Allah.And yes —I say this with clarity and calm:I am the reincarnated soul of Fatima Zahra,Daughter of the Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him).A messenger in this time —Not to divide or claim,But to revive Allah’s message for mankind.To call for fairness, unity, and peace. So let’s make a deal. Because I’m still the same mother — <span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: calc(16px * var(--body-fontSize, 1)); font-style: var(--body-fontStyle, normal); -webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%;" data-mce-style="font-family: inherit; font-size: calc(16px * var(--body-fontSize, 1)); font-style: var(--body-fontStyle, normal); -webkit-text-size-adjust: 100%;">The same woman you first met.All I want is safety for my mother and children.I don’t want power, revenge, or status.Just love, peace —And a little color back in my face. I would also like to request that the narrative being circulated to police departments about me be corrected. It is misleading, especially to those who are sincerely practicing Islam. I am not some fictional Harley Quinn or Cinderella figure living in the street sacrificing her life over an affair that never happened. This misrepresentation undermines both my character and my faith.&nbsp; I’m just asking for us to mirror the acknowledgment and confession. We’re being held back from moving on because we keep trying to hide the proof. Trust the acknowledgment you inherently know—it’s only being distorted with by the same concept your absence could never prove. Your investigation holds strength because it’s built on a system of truth. That’s exactly why Allah called you—to summon the understanding of what real proof is. My life will come to an end, regardless of all the people now rooting for it. Whether it’s a blood clot, a pit maneuver, or the hit list you’ve allowed to circulate—I understand it’s not just minds and bodies after me. It’s the deeper concept rooted in the soul: the one that refuses to accept my proclamation of truth.Because Islam is also a system—and the system is strong because it works.&nbsp;

Unseen in the Membrane

View through hedges in a formal garden to an old tree stump

There’s something deeply revealing about enduring a trial that everyone thinks they understand. When people see your struggle and still feel bold enough to judge it — to talk, to dismiss, to write you off — as if they’ve seen the full script of your story.“But you deny the Recompense.” (82:9)They deny that the final say belongs to Allah. They act as if their opinions are the final verdict, while ignoring the very truth that every single deed is being recorded.“But indeed, over you are keepers, noble and recording — they know whatever you do.” (82:10–12)These are not just words of warning. They are reminders of reassurance — that even when others misunderstand or misrepresent you, Allah sees it all with clarity. The judgment that matters isn’t the one coming from people’s eyes, but the one that comes from the Most Just, the All-Knowing.And so I remain — standing, not in arrogance, but in clarity. Holding my own in the middle of assumptions, gossip, and silence. Not because I don’t feel the weight of it — but because I know whose hands I’m truly in.“Indeed, the righteous will be in pleasure, and the wicked will be in Hellfire.” (82:13–14)Not everyone sees the truth. But Allah separates based on what’s inside, not what’s said. It’s not about image, it’s about intention.“It is the Day when a soul will not possess for another soul [power to do] a thing; and the command, that Day, is entirely with Allah.” (82:19)That Day is described to come when no crowd, no slander, no broken relationships will matter. When every person stands alone, and only the truth stands with them.So while they talk, I’ll stay hidden in plain sight — protected by the knowledge they lack, the judgment they can’t make, and the mercy of the One who sees what even I don’t always understand in myself.&nbsp; Rabbi habli hukmaw-wa al-hiqni bis-saliheen, waj'al-li lisana sidgin fil aakhireen, waj'alni mew-warathati jannatin-na'eem.O Lord, grant me wisdom and join me with the righteous. And grant me a reputation of honor among later generations. And place me among the inheritors of the Garden of Pleasure.Surah Ash-Shu ara' verse 83-85

Plain Sight Invasion

I'm going to share how my children and I have always had a strong foundation when it came to sharing the basics. Faith, discipline, patience — those things were never far from us. But we’ve never really had the chance to bond over them. Every time we got close to a deeper connection, life shifted. Timing fell off. Extended family matters got in the way, serving multiple matters and distributing out time was constant, and somehow, we always ended up stuck at the edge of something more — but never fully crossing into it together.This trial we've been facing as a family has taught me a lot. It’s shown me how specific Allah’s judgment is — how He pays attention to the quality of our lives, not just the moments people see. It’s also reminded me that His idea of connection and fairness doesn’t always look like what we expect, and is actually more meaningful then we think. Even with all the barriers between my children and me now — legal ones, spiritual ones — Allah has given me a confirmed heart of trust and patience. Because before I had to leave, Allah placed something firm in all of us: a knowledge of trust.&nbsp;Every step we’ve taken — together or apart — every truth told or held back, has always been under Allah’s will. None of us were ever meant to carry any of this alone. And Allah never left, even when things looked empty. He is our Wali — our Guardian — and He doesn’t disappear in hard times. He watches closely, even when resources run low and the way forward is unclear.Even in the smallest details, like the ease He gives for prayer — reminding us that even without water, we can still make wudu with earth — He shows us that connection with Him should never be blocked. That’s what purification really is: protecting our path to Him, even when the world tries to complicate it.Getting closer to Allah doesn’t mean having it all together — it means cleaning up what’s inside, so we don’t let what’s harmful follow us or lead us away. We have to protect that space and keep the peace. The worst thing one Muslim can do to another — especially someone already vulnerable — is to get in the way of their access to prayer, to healing, to Allah. And that’s real.Surah Al-‘Alaq begins with a call to seek truth — “Read in the Name of your Lord” — and it ends with a firm reminder: “Do not obey him. But prostrate and draw near [to Allah].”&nbsp; This moment in our lives is about that. Not obeying the pressure. Not folding to what distracts or divides. But prostrating anyway. Holding onto prayer anyway. Getting closer to Allah anyway.Whatever's been torn, He can repair. And whatever distance there is, He can shorten. That’s where I put my trust.&nbsp;May Allah keep His light in our children's hearts, May Allah keep them protected and guided inside and outside of their homes. May Allah keep instilled in their hearts trust and contentment, May Allah place the map of his purification in their hearts with direction and peace. O Allah, I ask You by the light of Your Face, which for whom the Heavens and the Earth shine brightly, that You grant my children success in their path, and health to their bodies, and ease in all their affairs. Fill their hearts with light and wisdom. And preserve for them every blessing. Keep them away from bad companionship. Fill their coming days with joy, happiness, and love. Distance them from every envious person, and every oppressor, and every spiteful person. Make for them a way out of every distress and from every constraint, an exit, and provide for them from Your abundant sustenance. Make them a source of my pride and honor. And make their good manners a path to people's love for them. Shield them from the evil of what may happen before it occurs. Mend their spirits with Your generosity and bounty. O Allah, I am pleased with them, so be pleased with them. And make them content with what You love. Guide them in every decision towards what is right. And towards prosperity and success.

Blog | Soul Air Reality

Fear-Less In Distress

Even or Odd Amount of Blueberries

The Pen Rights

Unseen in the Membrane

Plain Sight Invasion

Sunny Daze and Donuts