The Sacred Secret | A Journey of Liberation Through Connection

"Between me and God."
That’s how I used to think it should be.

Private.

Quiet.

Unspoken.

Hidden behind closed doors.

Part of it was because I thought my connection to Him wasn’t good enough. Far from perfect. Full of gaps. Weighed down with guilt.

And part of it was because I truly believed it was no one’s business.
This was my internal journey. My sacred work. I didn’t need to show it.
I just needed to fix it.

Alone.

How selfish was that?

How strange is it...

That we talk about and post our diplomas
Show off our passports (especially us immigrants)
Our first homes
Our wildest adventures
Our babies
Our favorite meals
The people and moments we love most...

We love to share love
But when it comes to our deepest love
The one that stitched us back together
The one that waited patiently through every dark night
The one who loved us even when we didn’t love ourselves

The one that was ALWAYS THERE.
That love: we keep secret.

Why?

Maybe because we’re afraid it’s not strong enough to show
Maybe because we think we haven’t earned it
Maybe because somewhere along the line, we believed that love has to look a certain way... that you have to perfect praying five times a day before you can say I am a man or a woman of God.

But here’s what I’ve come to believe

Every time I open that door
Every time I stop hiding and let myself say it with no shame
Not only does that love grow, but also I allow it to flow...

Flow inside my heart...

Something inside me starts to breathe again...

It feels like home
Like Tata’s house when you're at a forbidden sleepover.
When your mom said no but Tata looked you in the eye and said “stay anyway”
And then tucked you in with her softest pillow.
Fed you tea and zaatar and grilled cheese way past your bedtime...
And let you fall asleep between her palms.

That is what divine love feels like
Spoiled
Safe
Held
Even when you didn’t earn it
Especially then.

That is what He gave me
Every single time
And I started to see that this love
This connection
Was not something separate from me.

It was the very place I met myself

It was the very place I met myself

It was the very place I met myself

So how did I love God?

By discovering myself

And hence I still am.

I used to think I was invincible.

Strong-willed,

high-capacity,

adaptable,

break-resistant,

kungfu-ready (dipidi dapada doo)

you name it.

I could show up, do it all, make it beautiful, and hold everyone around me.
And smile and feel that...

Ego.

Until motherhood came and sat me down.
And not gently.

It didn’t just test my patience.
It tested my health.
My nervous system.
My identity.
My sense of control.

It humbled me.

It was another opportunity for God to remind me that He is always greater.

Maybe because motherhood involves that process of recreation.

It exposed parts of me I didn’t even know were there...
Because all of a sudden,
my heart was running outside my body,
and my breath was no longer mine.

I thought I had to chase it to grasp it...
But I was wrong again

It was not until I let the results of parenting be and focused on just being with them that I was set free...

That’s when I learned that instead of focusing on: the kids, the job, the husband, the parents, the this, the that... I needed to focus on myself: immediately.

Knowing yourself is not a luxury.
It’s a necessity.

It’s not a personality quiz or a list of traits.
It’s sitting with yourself long enough to know what makes you feel fake, as if you're eating plastic, what drains your soul even more than the one course you failed in college, and what brings you back to life like that first crush, except on repeat.

It’s choosing to study your silence as much as your strengths.

It’s learning what kind of environments make you feel safe.
What kind of boundaries you need to stay whole.
What kind of people you need to keep at a distance, with love.
And the kind of pleasures you feel no shame in sharing and no reason for hiding.

And in all of that?
There is something sacred.

Because as Imam Ali (عليه السلام) once said:
"من عرف نفسه فقد عرف ربه"
Whoever knows himself has known his Lord.

What a truth.
Not just a statement... a mirror in action.

The more I paid attention to the layers within me, the more I could feel God’s presence.

Not in grand appearances, but in the quiet pauses.
In the moments I honored my limits like saying no to work in the afternoon when kids are home..

In the moments I chose to heal like taking myself out for coffee as a weekly ritual. 

In the sacred spaces between exhaustion and surrender and knowing that it is okay.

In my parenting. In my marriage. In how I ran my business.
In how I held space for others while trying to hold space for myself.

Because if I’m not aware of my wounds, I pass them on.

If I’m not honest about what I need, I burn out while trying to meet everyone else’s needs.

And if I’m not in tune with my soul, how can I possibly guide anyone else?

uhhhhh...

That level of self awarness is so good it feels like lemonade in Southern Italy on one August afternoon. 

I used to think love meant sacrifice.
To give fully, I had to disappear.
But now I know love starts with truth.
And truth starts with knowing yourself.

In my first few years of marriage, I focused on the concept of affection and mercy (mawadah wa rahmah).
I thought I was showing rahmah by being understanding and soft during disagreements. I would quiet my opinions, swallow my boundaries, tell myself he had a long day, or his own wounds to work on.

But I wasn’t showing myself rahmah (mercy).

I wasn’t being honest about what I needed. And I learned: rahmah is a two-way gift.

The most loving thing I could do was be honest and clear.

That same lesson followed me into my career.

I was a teacher. And a proud one.
I loved my students. I gave them everything. I stayed late, went early, and poured my heart into every lesson. My students even nominated me for Teacher of the Year every single year. I helped lead medical aid drives that went all the way across the ocean, built community projects, and gave more than what was asked.

But somewhere along the way, I realized I had started choosing my students over my children. And I knew that I could not continue to do this no more and no matter how good it looked..

I had started showing up more fully in the classroom than I was able to at home. And that realization hurt.

It took brutal honesty to admit that I couldn’t keep doing it all. I had to choose. And so I did.

I stepped back. I chose presence with my children. I chose health.

I chose long-term love over short-term praise.

I chose living life on slow motion at home and at full speed where I need it to be and when I need it to be not like a hamster on a wheel but like a horse set free. 

Today, I help women own their stories. I am not a therapist by any means, nor do I claim to be. But I help women put words to their story. I help them find their truth. I help them hold it with grace. And from that place, I help them discover what part of their power is needed in this world.

Creating brands with purpose and a story is not only something I’m skilled at, it’s a journey I’ve lived. One I’ve tasted. One I know the joy and richness of.

So if you believe in this divine love..

Bring your story alongside mine.

Let’s turn it from a sacred secret into a soulful first step.


Untill next time,

Farah