A Reflection on Trust, Love & Allah’s Decree

Yesterday, I wrote about my choice to remain single. I wrote about responsibility, about my children, about trust—about how I cannot take marriage lightly because the weight of that decision is not just mine to bear. I wrote with certainty, with conviction, because I know my reasons. And yet, today, I find myself sitting with something much harder to put into words—the part that makes this choice difficult. The part that makes this decision something I carry, rather than something I simply walk away from.

Because what happens when feelings come into it? When Allah places something—or someone—on your heart? What happens when, despite every logical reason to guard yourself, to keep your life as it is, your heart does something else entirely?

This is where trust is tested. Not trust in another person, but trust in Allah. Trust in His plan, in His decree. Because the truth is, I am not unsure because of how I feel. I am unsure because I know what I have written before: that marriage, in Islam, is not about slow discovery. It is about stepping in with faith, with hope, with the best of intentions—but it is also about risk. And risk is something I cannot afford when my children are involved.

So, where do I place these feelings? How do I hold them without letting them consume me, without them shaking the foundations of the certainty I had yesterday? The answer, I know, is in surrender. In stepping back, in letting go of the illusion that I have to figure it all out myself. If something is meant for me, it will come. And if it is not, I ask Allah to remove it from me, and me from it.

Because what is written will unfold in its time—without being forced or rushed. Love, companionship, and marriage are not things to chase. They are not things to grasp at in fear of losing them. And when something feels forced, when it moves faster than the heart has space to process, when it demands urgency rather than trust—that in itself can be the alarm bell that it is not meant to be. Because what is truly written by Allah does not need to be forced into existence; it will unfold in its own time, in His time.

So today, I make this du’a:

“O Allah, if this person is not written for me, remove them from my heart and remove me from theirs. Do not let my heart be attached to what is not good for me. Replace what is not meant for me with what is better, and grant me peace and contentment with Your decree.”

And in this du’a, there is my answer. Whatever is written will come. And whatever is not, I trust will be replaced with something far better—whether that is love, or simply the peace of a heart fully content with what is.