Muslim Love Coaches

You gave Allah your word
before you were even born.

That’s why your heart keeps going back to Him…

Even when you feel far.

Because this isn’t your first time knowing Him.

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You keep searching for peace in the world…

But peace was never meant to be found there.

Allah is As-Salām — The Source of all peace.

And from Him alone comes the calm your heart is searching for.

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A man once urinated inside the Prophet’s mosque.

The companions were furious.

But the Prophet ﷺ responded with gentleness.

Because Allah is Ar-Rafiq — The Gentle.

The One who covers us, gives us time, and guides us back with care.

And the Prophet ﷺ taught us:

“Allah is gentle and loves gentleness in all matters.”

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Sometimes the world feels unbearably unjust.

Innocent lives taken.

Oppressors walking free.
Criminal rulers never held accountable.

And in those moments I remind myself:

Alhamdulillah there is a Day of Judgment.

Because Allah is Al Haqq — the Ultimate Truth.

With Him, no injustice is ever lost.

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Sometimes the heaviest feeling after a sin is not the sin itself…

it is the despair that whispers to you
“Allah will never forgive you.”

But Allah has a name for that moment.

Al Tawab.

The One who loves those who come back to Him over and over again.

Not just once.
Not just when you finally “fix yourself.”

But every time you return.

Your past is not your prison.
Your return is your rebirth.

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Allah’s love and care is not one-dimensional.

Al Rahman cares for all creation.
Al Rahim cares for the hearts of the believers.

That care looks like guidance, forgiveness and the path to Jannah.

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7 years without my mum.
I can’t believe it’s been that long… and still, somehow, this year has been the heaviest of all.
Becoming a mother didn’t just open a new chapter — it reopened an old wound. A wound I’ve carried quietly for 7 years… but this year, it pulsed in every moment.

I found myself searching for her in places she could never return to.
I looked for her when I saw my daughter on the ultrasound screen — the very moment I realised I am becoming a mum… without my mum.
I looked for her during labour, when every wave of pain made me crave her hand on my forehead, the way she used to soothe me without a single word.
I looked for her in the quiet, fragile days after birth… when I was exhausted, overwhelmed, and aching for someone who would have loved me through it all with no judgement, no hesitation — just pure, unconditional warmth.

I kept reaching for a love that isn’t here anymore.
A love I can still feel, but can’t touch.

And the hardest part?
I look at my daughter and wish — with every cell in my body — that she knew her teta.
That she felt her arms.
Heard her laugh.
Was wrapped in the kind of love I grew up with.
Because my mum didn’t just love… she loved with her whole soul.
And there’s a particular kind of grief that hits you when you realise your child will never know the woman who shaped the best parts of you.
But here’s the part that breaks me and heals me all at once:
Every time I hold my daughter the way my mum held me…
Every time I speak softly the way she used to…
Every time I catch myself smiling with the same warmth she had…
I am reminded that she’s not gone.
Not really.
She lives in the way I mother.
She lives in the gentleness I give.
She lives in the love that pours out of me without effort — because she poured it into me first.

The ache is so big.Some days it swallows me whole.
But the love… the love she left behind is bigger. ❤️
7 years without her.
7 years of learning how to mother with a heart that still misses its own mother. 7 years of realising that grief doesn’t fade — it transforms… and sometimes, it becomes the very thing that guides your hands as you hold your own child.

May Allah grant her the highest Jannah 💜