“By Morning Light, and the Night when it falls still! Your Lord has Not Forsaken you, nor has He become hateful of you!” [Surah Ad-Duha]
I wanted to start this piece with a reminder from my favourite Surah, you can read my love for it here. Because even the Prophet Muhammad (pbuh) was tested with loneliness. Feeling foresaken from His Lord. Even with the support of the mother of believers such as Khadijah Bint Khuwaylid (ra), there is a place in becoming muslim where any of us including the Prophet (pbuh) can feel lonely.
I sometimes forget that those whom we look towards and strive to be close to, was not born Muslim but had come to Islam. When the world becomes too loud for me, I find comfort in that thought. A comfort in knowing even the best of creation experienced solitude on the path to truth.
It’s in this reflection I realised Allah (Swt) provides in loneliness. In a place I have been feeling more lonely than ever before, Allah (Swt) has put it in the heart of my mother to be curious of faith, learning, and of questioning on the matters of God. The more I feel lonely, the more curious my mother becomes, the more reminders she sends me, and the more she stands up for me when the doors are closed, standing up for me when I do not witness what others may say of me. May Allah (Swt) continue to guide her and give her good health.
Loneliness then is not always the lack of physical presence, but perhaps the change. Perhaps the the constant misunderstanding by those around you. The Prophet (pbuh) was called mad, a poet, a magician - people were unable to grasp his transformation.
In being called such things I imagine conversation becomes as heavy as physical existence, because you feel the need to explain your entire existence. Distance becomes easier than being misread. Yet your thoughts continue to lead to an echo chamber of ‘who am i?’. And even with distance, you become lonely in your own mind. Your start to lose yourself bit by bit.
You see my loneliness has come from loss. The loss of people I once held close while navigating such a profound change, and the loss of belonging when I couldn’t find an environment that welcomed me. In retrospect I see God has been preparing this for me all along. Al-Hadi. The Guide. It is He who has been guiding me before I ever knew I would ever become Muslim.
Looking back, I realise I was always a little bit different. Being neurodivergent, that comes naturally, of course. The natural variation of the mind is great, but it is not commonplace in those around you. The beauty of a different mind is not always understood. Naturally you become the odd one out. You become the one whose actions are questioned, whose intentions are misread, whose very presence feels like it must be justified against the “norm”. From a very young age, I found myself trying to justify who I am. Explaining who I was just to be accepted. I see now - that was God preparing me.
I became vegetarian at the age of 6 or 7. And vegan in my late teens for five years. Nobody in my family was vegetarian or vegan. And in an area of much first generation migrants, in all the diets of my friends families, none were vegetarian. At a young age I began to articulate why at every dinner table, when all I wanted to do was sit down and eat like everybody else. That was God preparing me.
I stood for Palestine in sixth form - the stage between secondary school and university in the UK. It wasn’t a popular stance, but standing for humanity mattered more to me than friendship. Allah (Swt) placed that empathy in my heart. I also joined protests to remain in the EU, even when those close to me disagreed. Through being alone in my views, I learned deep empathy and understanding, I learned nuance. Again Allah (Swt) was preparing me.
I was the first of my siblings to pass secondary school - or high school for US readers. And the first in my family to pursue higher and postgraduate education. At first, it was celebrated, though I’d occasionally hear remarks about getting a “real job.” I ignored them, but those voices only grew louder after I graduated. At university, I became a token of urban grit, intriguing enough for a “she’s from where?” but soon followed by remarks of disdain for the very community I came from.
I started from scratch in my studies, unaware of what everyone else seemed to know. I could barely relate to my classmates, and when I finally could, I’d be questioned about why, as a working-class student, I had a new macbook - as though I had to place barriers in front of myself, to make sure I would not break through to their level, to their privilege.
I was not offered the same ease of mind others seemed to have. There was pressure to keep progressing flawlessly - to graduate and immediately move on to something bigger, without pause. Often this was a result of my own mind of course but it left me distant and lonely in my thoughts, often paralysed by fear and worry. Again, this was God preparing me.
By being misunderstood at every stage of life, how could I not be ready for the loneliness of becoming Muslim?
But nothing truly prepares you for the changes that come with embracing a new faith. Career shifts. Lost friends - even my closest friend, who was Muslim, drifted away when I needed her most. Habits gone. Old knowledge replaced by new. A sense of style gone. Yet all met with new thoughts, new fashion, new friendships, and new milestones. It’s a lot of change in a short time. In the Muslim community, I’ve been belittled for what I didn’t know, and found my past experiences unrelatable. Among non-Muslim friends and family, I’ve sometimes felt the same - though, truthfully, they’ve often been more forgiving and open to my change than the former.
It’s been three years now since I became Muslim, and I can finally say the above with some peace.
I blame the loneliness on myself too. For failing the test of not putting my soul and needs first. By allowing myself to give in to self doubt. With all the changes and grip on to what was close around me, thinking if I became perfect to them, it would mean I was a good muslim. And in that moment, I thought that is what I needed. I can irrevocably say that was my biggest mistake, and only isolated me more. After a few months of reverting, being around the wrong people led to me misunderstanding my faith. Just as I’ve learned to forgive those who left me in hard moments, I know I must forgive myself too for this mistake.
From this point on, I begin to understand that Allah (Swt) has written each journey with purpose - one of lessons, trials, and growth. Still, I find it lonely thinking of my journey, and I am reminded of this loneliness every time somebody asks me “So what made you revert?”.
How can I answer such a question when I’m not given the same grace as those who came before me? How do I explain my “normal” to people who have only ever seen it as something negative? How many times can I try to show that faith is about expanding our acceptance... about seeing the beauty in change, not isolating someone for what they share?
My friends have often said my essence never changes, even when everything else about me does. I try to hold on to that without feeling lost, because with so much change, even our memories can start to feel distant. Sometimes, I wake up and feel unfamiliar in my own body. And that - that is a very specific kind of loneliness.
Before revelation, the Prophet (pbuh) was known as Al-Amin - The Trustworthy. After revelation, he remained that, but also became a Messenger. I reflect on this as I try to stitch together parts of myself I’ve lost and miss. I make dua Allah (Swt) guides me to uncover my light layer by layer, instead of letting the shaytans whispers dim my essence. I learn to forgive myself, knowing even the greatest of people could not bear everything at once - so why should I expect to withstand all pressure alone?
“And Those who disbelieve say, ‘Why was the Qu’ran not revealed to him all at once?’ Thus [it is] that We may strengthen your heart thereby, and We have spaced it distinctly” [Surah Al-Furqan 25:32]
So really, changing religion or becoming religious should never be made to feel like you have to abandon who you were, it’s about remembering who you truly are. Who you are choosing to be. It should not be a race to test against the knowledge of those who have known their faith their entire life. Or for you to compare your normal to theirs, and for them to shun you for your normal in comparison to theirs.
Moving along in my reflection now, around six months after becoming Muslim I was feeling foresaken for around or almost 1.5 years. Now a year after that period, I still have tests I am feeling lonely within, but it is different. I found myself in that period at a low beyond wanting to exist. In my final bid to try and scratch back some of my sanity, I made one dua to Allah (Swt) asking for clear signs, for the truth, to know what to do next. I had been asking for that dua for over a year, but that day my heart was begging for it, and He answered.
All of this is not to feel sorry for myself but to acknowledge the negative parts of your life. If we did not acknowledge the saddest moments of our Prophet (pbuh) life, we would have never have been blessed with understanding Surah Ad - Duha. To acknowledge these moments, is to grow. It is lonely to acknowledge but there is one last reminder I want to finish on that helps me get through this.
The Prophet Muhammad (pbuh) said : “Islam began as something strange, and will return as something strange. So glad tidings to the strangers” [Sahih Muslim, Hadith 145]
In whichever circle I find myself, I am still of the few. The Muslim in a group of non-muslims or I am the new Muslim in a group of born Muslims. So I find it, I am different, and even though it feels lonely. This loneliness regardless of how it feels, regardless of how de motivating it can be at times - is not only my reality but it is a blessing. And all of these things can be true at the same time. It’s a comfort. A form of honour.
Ibn Rajab al-Hanbali wrote a section on this hadith of how “strangers” related to those who revive what others neglect from the Sunnah, the way of our Prophet (pbuh). Loneliness is not just from difference here but from the power of being able to reform and renew.
May Allah (Swt) keep my intentions sincere and use me as a tool to bring light to this dunya.
Imam an-Nawawi explained that “strange” or in arabic “gharib” means few in number. Emphasising that being few is not to be odd or wrong. This reminds me that in isolation or being the few is not to mean that I am wrong.
May Allah (Swt) increase my knowledge and the ability to convey this to those around me, and those in my heart, so they to shall see the light and truth of Islam.
My short poem from gazing out the window this morning at the trees that line my street and I thought about what a beautiful time to become muslim in a season of visible renewal, autumn.
Fallen Orange Leaves
The trees’ leaves have stopped their dance.
Branches stand distant, no green between.
The trees stand apart, waiting for the sun,
ready for their season of renewal.
For it is true, the trees look lonely too.
jerilee xo
Wow such an insightful read. Thank you for sharing this part of you. Hoping the Substack community gives you some good company 😊
“By being misunderstood at every stage of life, how could I not be ready for the loneliness of becoming Muslim?”
Subhanallah Allah has His ways tgat we can truly never understand. But you’re right, youre never too prepared. Life throws things at you tgat make you question if you can make it through. But iA we’ll all get through our own unique challenges.
Also youre so right, the season of visible change. Barakallahu Feeki! Allah increase your knowledge and make you content and happy. Guide your mom and your sisters. This was beautiful habibti. Looking forward to part two.
jeri this is making me cry. May Allah continue to bless you with knowledge and guidance and put you in the company of those He loves and guides those who you love. i really do love reading your reflections and the lessons you've extracted from your experiences. you're right you're entire life was in preparation for everything you are to experience. on the thread of loneliness, something i was thinking about recently was how many of prophets/people mentioned in the quran also faced periods of immense growth when they were lonely. or maybe their entire trial was lonely. like Asiyah in the house of firawn. Maryam when she would pray in the masjid in solitude and then again when she had a child. when Nuh AS spent centuries preaching and even his family didn't listen. when Ayyub AS was given trial after trial. when Musa AS was in the dessert. when Yunus AS left his community feeling like a failure and spent time in the belly of the whale. Yusuf AS in the well and in prison. when Muhammad SAW was boycotted by those that had previously honored and trusted him and he lost those closest to him. there are so many stories of either physical solitude or feeling lonely even within a community.