Things I Wish I Had Known Sooner

Reflections on self-worth, boundaries, relationships, parenting and, most importantly, my relationship with Allah.

Assalamu Alaikum,

There are so many things I have learnt in my 40s that I wish I had understood much earlier in life. Not because I regret the years behind me. Alhamdulillah, every experience, every difficult season and every mistake has taught me something. But sometimes I still think, if only I had known this sooner.

I wish I had understood earlier that I am allowed to love and care for myself. Not in a selfish way and not at the expense of others, but simply to recognise that I matter too. To look after myself, listen to myself and recognise when I am tired, unhappy, overwhelmed or simply not okay. Perhaps most importantly, I wish I had understood that I am more than the roles I have been given.

As women, we can spend so much of our lives being someone's daughter, someone's wife, someone's mother, someone's sister, someone's carer or someone's support system. We become so used to asking, "What does everyone else need from me?" that we forget to ask ourselves, "Who am I?" Who am I as a person? What do I enjoy? What matters to me? What are my hopes? What are my strengths? What kind of woman do I want to become? And who am I when I am not doing something for someone else?

I wish I had understood earlier that discovering yourself does not mean becoming less of a mother, daughter, wife or Muslim woman. It means understanding that you are also an individual, with your own relationship with Allah, your own character, your own choices and your own journey.

I also wish I had understood that healthy boundaries are not unkind. Islam teaches us kindness, compassion, forgiveness and maintaining good relationships, but that does not mean we have to allow people to continually hurt us, disrespect us or take advantage of us. We can be kind and still have boundaries. We can forgive someone and still decide they no longer have the same access to us. We can love someone and still say no. We can respect people without abandoning ourselves.

Another lesson I wish I had understood earlier is that I should never make another person my everything. We can love people deeply and cherish our husbands, children, parents, family and friends, but no human being should become the centre of our entire existence. When we make another person our everything, we can begin to depend on them for our happiness, our sense of worth, our security and even our identity.

People will come into our lives and people will leave. Some will stay for years, while others may only stay for a season. Some will love us, some will disappoint us, some will misunderstand us and some may even speak about us unfairly. People are human. They have their own weaknesses, limitations and choices, just as we do.

Only Allah is constant.

Our deepest love, trust and dependence belongs with Allah. People can support us, love us and walk alongside us, but our ultimate sense of security and reliance should be with Him. When we build that relationship with Allah, we have an anchor that does not disappear when everything around us changes.

And I do not mean only turning to Allah when life becomes difficult. I mean developing a genuine love for Allah. Talking to Him, making dua, remembering Him, learning about Him and trusting Him. Knowing that He sees everything: the good we do, the things nobody knows about, the tears we cry privately and also the mistakes we make. Allah knows us completely.

Ultimately, we are each answerable to Allah for our own deeds, and that realisation has changed the way I see other people. I cannot control what someone thinks of me. I cannot control what they say about me. I cannot make everyone understand my intentions. I have also learnt that sometimes silence is not weakness. Sometimes silence is choosing not to engage in something that will only drain you. Sometimes it is doing what you can, speaking when you need to speak, seeking justice when justice is needed and then leaving the matter with Allah.

Trusting that Allah knows the truth. Trusting that Allah sees what happened. Trusting that nothing is hidden from Him.

That is part of tawakkul.

And then there is something else I have had to learn: letting go of control.

This has probably been one of the hardest lessons for me, especially as a parent. When our children are young, we make decisions for them. We protect them, guide them and try to keep them from making mistakes. But eventually, they become adults, and we have to let go.

We can advise them. We can support them. We can be there for them. We can make dua for them. But we cannot live their lives for them. They have their own choices to make and their own relationship with Allah to build.

Sometimes loving our children means allowing them to experience the consequences of their choices rather than constantly stepping in to rescue them. Perhaps one of the greatest things we can teach our children is to trust Allah. To know that Allah is watching over them, that He sees the good they do and the mistakes they make, that they can always turn back to Him and that ultimately, just like us, they are responsible for their own deeds.

I have also learnt that when you begin to change, some relationships will change with you. When you stop people-pleasing, start setting boundaries, stop constantly explaining yourself and begin to prioritise your relationship with Allah, you may find that some people do not like the changes they see. When you start asking yourself what you actually want and need, some people may not like the new version of you.

Some may leave.

And honestly, that can hurt.

But something beautiful can happen too. You can make space for new people. People who love you for who you are, rather than what you do for them. People who do not need you to constantly give, fix, rescue or accommodate them. People who genuinely wish you well.

Sometimes losing people teaches us who was actually there because they loved us, and who was there because of what they received from us.

I wish I had understood some of this sooner. But perhaps this is also what growing older is about. Learning to know yourself, learning to care for yourself, learning what you will and will not accept, learning to let go of what you cannot control and learning to trust Allah more deeply. It is also learning that your worth was never dependent on how useful you were to other people.

I am still learning.

I do not share these things because I have mastered them. I share them because I know there may be another woman reading this who is where I once was. Perhaps she is so busy being everything to everyone else that she has forgotten herself. Perhaps she is struggling with boundaries. Perhaps she is trying desperately to control what her children do. Perhaps someone has hurt her and she is exhausted from trying to make them understand. Perhaps she has placed all her hopes and happiness in another person. Or perhaps she simply needs reminding that Allah is there, always.

And perhaps if I can share something I learnt in my 40s, another woman can learn it a little earlier.

That would make sharing it worthwhile.

Alhamdulillah, I am still learning.