As a British Pakistani Muslim, finding the person I want to spend the rest of my life with has, so far, proved exhausting. There are endless questions to think about: Is he the same sect as me? Does he speak or at least understand my language?
Do we have the same ‘Haram-Halal’ ratio? Because what is simply be a half-sleeve top to one Muslim woman might be deemed too revealing by another Muslim man… The list. Goes. On. And. On.
At least having all these boxes to tick narrows down my choices. I am only interested in men who fit the basic requirement of being Muslim, and Pakistani (these are make or break). And at least, we’ll have some common ground before we even speak.
My most recent love interest ticked them all. Our families were friends so we had grown up together. He got along with my relatives and friends, and shared my culture, and while neither of us were extremely practicing, we had the same religious beliefs.
It felt great to find someone on the same wavelength and for nearly two years, we were happy. It felt natural and exciting to be around each other – even if it was just running errands and going to Tesco. In his company, I felt peaceful.
Eventually, we knew we wanted a future together but there was an issue that had haunted our relationship from the beginning: His parents didn’t approve of me because I was raised by a single mother.
He had always reassured me that when the time came this would be his battle to fight – that when it came down to it, he would handle it and stand up for me.
However, when it did, he said he couldn’t go against his parents.
He was upset and continuously apologetic – but that was the end of it, no discussion. ‘Not now, not ever, they just don’t like your upbringing,’ he told me.
I had to block him in order to move forward. My life felt empty – I had lost my best friend and the future I planned. Then two days later, I also lost my job. It seemed like everything was going wrong and I felt trapped in my failing life.
That day I drove home, stopping along the way to cry. I didn’t leave my house for a week.
I was angry at my ex, at life, at everything. I was looking for answers I couldn’t find, which led me to constantly break down. I was struggling to accept that we had ended and gain closure.
Religion has always been a coping mechanism for me, providing hope, reassurance and the opportunity to surrender worldly issues that I have no control over.
My relationship with God had fluctuated a lot in the past few years. I ran to Him for answers in difficult times but during happier times, I became detached. This time was different – I had lost everything I thought I wanted. The only conclusion I could reach was that maybe I needed to listen to God.
I started trawling through anything I related to and could restore my faith – the Quran, Hadiths (traditions or sayings of the Prophet Muhammad, peace be upon him) and quotes.
Slowly, I was reminded of the lessons I had been taught since childhood.
I had lost a romantic notion of love in my breakup but in the days that followed, God showed me a far less complicated version – platonic love. Not a day went by that first week without someone coming to visit me.
Even if I didn’t want to speak or see anyone, my friends pushed me out of my comfort zone; my family spent days making sure I felt loved and cared for.
It was subtle, but I realised that if I opened my heart towards the people closest to me, I was going to come out of the pain of heartbreak OK.
I’d had a difficult childhood, seeing my mother struggle as a single parent, although we never went without. Up until this moment, God had always given me a way out of problems that felt like they would never heal – surely he would help me this time, too.
I came back to this line in the Quran: ‘Indeed what is to come will be better for you than what has gone by’ (93:4)
It gave me a lot of relief. I felt myself getting mentally stronger. It was baby steps, but I pushed myself to get out of bed and stop wallowing in self-pity. This was the moment to turn to prayer.
Praying gave me a routine: five times a day, I had a purpose. I found it helped me to be productive – to apply for jobs, meet people, go out, and if it got too overwhelming, I was able to take five breaks to cry my heart out. And it really helped me to avoid the black hole of obsessively thinking about my ex.
I still have moments where I feel low and it can be frustrating to feel like I am going back to square one. But my religion encourages patience, so I try to remember that emotions are temporary, to give myself time to grieve and go through them, and that I am human.
As my heart healed, the routine, comfort, words and theories of Islam did more for me than anyone – my ex included – could have.
My idea of love has now changed completely. It’s not as conventional as it used to be. I have learnt to let go and not try to control something uncontrollable, or fix something un-fixable.
For me, true love is someone, or something, that encourages me to deal with the lowest moments I face.
Love is about making each other stronger. I was only able to tap into this after my breakup – so clearly, the man I had thought was the love of my life wasn’t right for me in the first place.
My faith has not solved all of my problems, but it cushioned me from the pain of heartbreak and gave me the reassurance I longed for when the world seemed unknowable.
When I think about the future, I don’t feel worried – I’m excited. I know there are better things out there for me, because I believe that God does not take something away without replacing it with something better.
Last week in Love, Or Something Like It: I hope my first love reads this and takes me back
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Love, Or Something Like It is a new series for Metro.co.uk, covering everything from mating and dating to lust and loss, to find out what love is and how to find it in the present day.
If you have a love story to share, email rosy.edwards@metro.co.uk
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source https://metro.co.uk/2020/02/22/ex-left-devastated-turned-god-12273642/
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