Peace over Dunya

As I lay in bed in the early hours of the day, after recent events I find myself uncomfortable in the silence and maybe that’s because my life is always loud and full of life and love and laughter.

But Life doesn’t always feel loud.

Sometimes it just feels like… flatlining.

Not joy.

Not ease.

Not sadness, even.

Just a steady hum of pressure—

the weight of constant demands,

and the unspoken battle to stay afloat.

It’s not that I’m falling apart.

I show up.

I meet expectations.

I carry responsibilities.

But inside, I’m in a constant fight—

not just with the world,

but with everything that tries to pull me away from Allah.

Because closeness to Him isn’t just something I stumbled into.

It’s something I fought for—

something I still fight for, every single day.

Internally, I have peace.

It’s quiet, it’s sacred, and it’s mine.

But when someone walks into my life and starts tossing their beliefs, their wants, their needs,

expecting me to bend around it—

expecting me to trade that peace for their chaos—

That’s when I shut it down.

Fast.

Faster than a dodgy WiFi router in a thunderstorm.

Because if you’re not protecting what I’ve had to bleed for,

you don’t get access to it.

This isn’t cold.

This isn’t cruel.

This is the cost of surviving a life that tried to run me on empty.

This is me choosing presence over performance.

Peace over pressure.

Allah over approval.

And I’ll choose it every time.