To the Sister Who’s Carried Too Much

You’ve been carrying so much for so long. The quiet weight. The unspoken burdens. The roles you stepped into without being asked. Trying to offer comfort to others while your own wounds remained open.

You made it look easy—graceful even—but Allah witnessed the price you paid. He saw the tears you held back so your children could sleep in peace. He saw the prayers you couldn’t utter, frozen by shame. The tired smile you wore after being forgotten, pushed aside, or misunderstood—again.

You believed everything would fall apart if you let go, even for a moment. But Allah never placed all that on your shoulders. He never expected you to repair what others broke. He never told you to harden yourself just to survive. He never demanded you erase your own needs in order to be “worthy.” That wasn’t Him.

That was the noise of the world.

Allah created you luminous. Not to impress, but to be. Not to shrink for others, but to breathe in peace.

Even now, in your exhaustion, confusion, and sorrow—He’s still here. Not waiting for you to “pull it together.” Not disappointed by your storms or silences. Not keeping score of your efforts. Just waiting. For you to release. To return. To remember.

You’ve never been hidden from His gaze.

Not in the depths of despair.

Not in your numbness or your fury.

Not when you couldn’t find yourself in the mirror anymore.

He saw it all.And still, He calls you beloved.

You are not required to perform to be cherished. You do not need to “heal right” to be protected. You only need to come back to your essence.

Because;

your tenderness is power.

Your tears are a form of prayer. And your yearning for peace? That’s not weakness—it’s your soul remembering its origin.

And your hope—that quiet ember you’ve never let burn out—is the light that shines through your face as nūr. It’s the glow that tells the truth of your spirit, even when your voice cannot.

Maybe today is the day you stop tucking away the truth of who you are. Because Allah has never stopped loving you—not even when you forgot how to love yourself. And it’s okay to rest now.

Let Him hold what you no longer can. Let Him restore what’s been frayed inside.