The Divinity of Love

[tweetthis] What happens when you give up the love of your life for your love of God?[/tweetthis] This is not a question I ever expected I’d have to answer. As a young girl, I always assumed that I would not need to sacrifice one for the other, but rather my devotion both would inevitably pull Allah and my husband nearer to one another.

Just one conversation at a mutual friend’s cookout would change everything. The two of us had attended the same college and when we spoke that day, I immediately felt drawn to a kind of gentleness and light that emanated from his character. He was the quiet, confident type that people wanted to be around, especially me. A true gentleman by any definition, he would surprise me with thoughtful, rather than extravagant, gifts. [tweetthis]He abided by all the rules of chivalry my father had taught me to expect from a man: when we went out together, he gallantly opened doors for me, carried all our bags, and made sure I stood inside of him and away from the traffic on the street.[/tweetthis] I never had to give him a distrustful side eye for looking at another woman, because he seemed perfectly content with and focused on me. Before I knew it, I had been swept off my feet.

After having known so many disappointing men, I had grown guarded, but I let the walls down with him. Never in a million years would I find another man like this in my generation, I thought. Our relationship lay on a foundation of respect, honesty, trust, and above all friendship. Our families melded beautifully as well. I grew close to his sister and nieces, and his family became a home away from home for me. He earned my parents’ approval when he remained confident and authentically himself around them. To this day, they respect him because he never seemed intimidated by or desperate to impress them. I knew he had won my father’s endorsement when my dad said “this boy isn’t a punk.”

Some time after we met, I had been sitting in the ICU, watching my grandfather fade away. I spent so many grim days and nights looking out of the window in that drab room, just waiting and thinking. Death has a way of forcing us to reflect, to prioritize, so I played my entire life in my head like a film reel, dissecting every act, every character. He was the only person who seemed able to comfort me during this time.

He was my best friend, my love, and life was better with him. [tweetthis]There was just one problem. A problem that I had overlooked when I fell in love—he was not Muslim.[/tweetthis] When I imagined our future together, my heart would often sink. He was the type of guy who would talk about his interests and ask questions. He never once asked me about Islam. He never even mentioned religion at all. But Islam was my core, my existence, my life.

I found myself asking him more about his faith than he inquired about mine. He had been raised a Jehovah’s Witness, but as an adult, he chose not to align himself with any specific, organized faith. In a way, I respected this isolationist stance more than if he had simply continued running through the motions of what he had been taught, but no longer really believed. Still, it left us in limbo.

 I didn’t believe in coerced conversions. I wondered if I should wait until he expressed an interest in Islam. Would he ever? Should I conspicuously sprinkle a bunch of books on Islam around and hope he picks one up? His chivalry, patience and generosity put together embodied the qualities of a Muslim. I figured he would naturally incline towards Islam. But, he didn’t. Born and raised in a Muslim family, I was always taught that “Allah makes Muslims, we don’t.” I think he sensed my keenness to know how he felt about my faith, so one afternoon he ended the suspense and speculation. “Islam is a nice faith, but not for me.” He laid down those polite words with such ease–words that sliced through my hopes for our future in one swift motion. I imagined a lifetime of lonely moments before me: fasting alone, praying alone, standing in front of the Kabbah alone. Would he even pray for me or my family after we died?

 I had to speak with him face to face, because I needed for him to look right into my eyes and know that it was because I loved him that I had to let him go. I wanted him to find someone he could grow old with on his terms. He and I would never last a lifetime. When I finished speaking, he sat with no words. Later, I found, he blamed religion for the way we ended.

The breakup was the equivalent of a punch in the stomach. A fierce, unexpected blow that  knocked the wind right out of me. I called my father and sobbed into the phone. My dad sat on the other end trying to soothe the excruciating hurt, but he and I both knew it wasn’t going to be that easy. My father told me how proud he was of me for making such a difficult, heartbreaking choice. My family had never intervened, as they trusted his respect for me and my respect for myself.

 [tweetthis] Ever so often, doubts drift into my mind: Did I give up on him too soon? Most of the time though, I don’t carry regrets.[/tweetthis] Although, I loved him–maybe more than I loved myself—there is a certain contentment, even joy,  in knowing that my love for my Creator was larger, more powerful than my love for a man or my desire to find companionship. I have proven to myself that I am willing to sacrifice the greatest happiness I had experienced in this world thus far to attain an eternal happiness in the afterlife.

 [tweetthis] To this day, I’m still plagued with the challenge of meeting a Muslim man who  compares to him, because too many Muslim men have lied to and betrayed me.[/tweetthis] I am now 29-years-old, still unmarried, but hopeful. And I find comfort in Allah; there is no greater love than His.

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Imani Abdel-Malik Bashir was born and raised in Prince George’s County, Maryland. The middle of 5 siblings and product of a Muslim household, she has always kept faith at the center of her life. She currently lives in Cairo, Egypt where she teaches literature to high school student


(Photo Source: Yes-news)


  • Ashabi says:

    Dear sister, this gives me courage and letting go. I thought i was the only one. I didnt breakup, but our worlds break apart when he made it clear that he doesnt want my headscarf after the wedding and I said I dont want to exchange my headscarf for a wedding. Can you imagine that I was even ok to get married to him? Well this is how deep I was in dat stuff.
    But I learnt to overcome my sadness and depression, I learnt to grow strong and slaugther my false attachment to him, learning to love The Real Thing (thanks to sister Yasmin Mogahed for her eyes-opening articles).
    I think today some secret part inside me hope for a miracle, cause I still love him, but it is different. It s no longer painful. It s no longer him or nobody else. The other part of me is looking to Him and a miracle for that muslim hubby.
    May Allah swt make it easy on us, and all muslims struggling for a righteous spouse. He is The Capable One.

  • Aaaliyah says:

    I admire your courage Sister. To choose the Divine Love of Allah over a worldly love takes a lot of strength. I always worry about the kids. I’ve seen many inter-faith marriages where the Muslim partner’s faith is not really respected after the wedding or the kids end up choosing the faith of the non-Muslim parent.

    You want someone you can walk your spiritual journey with in this lifetime. Not someone who will spend his/her life politely watching from the sidelines and tolerating your faith.

    Much to our dismay and in defiance of our family, my brother spent an entire decade in a relationship with a non-Muslim woman. After trying in vain to convince her to convert he finally had the strength to walk away after realizing he could never raise a family with her because she was moving closer and closer to her Evangelical Church and becoming more fervent in her faith. It was painful for him at first but he seems to be happy and is even talking openly about looking forward to spending his life with a Muslim woman and raising a parcel of Muslim kids.

    Thing is, I don’t believe that we only have one soul mate and Inshallah he will come to you. I know you’re scared because you feel you’ve been hurt by a lot of Muslim guys. But i hope this won’t color your way to finding your future spouse because just as there’s alot of crappy or good Muslim men out there, the same is true for non-Muslim men too. All the best…

  • Aaaliyah says:

    Also Sister, you asked the question – did you give up to soon? The answer is absolutely not. The fact that he answered his opinion of Islam with such ease shows that your ex really has thought this through, was firm in his opinion and that there would be no changing of his mind. Can you imagine having been my brother who waited 10 years to realize his girlfriend was never going to convert? Or to have waited months or years for your ex to come around while bringing up Islam repeatedly while making him uncomfortable and yourself frustrated? I believe it would have caused you more heartache so please don’t waste your time wondering if you were too hasty. Everything happened the way it was meant to.

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