*Shezana’s Diary* *Mon 2nd June 2025* *Garments For Each Other* Dear Diary, Ya Allah… My heart is fluttering just thinking about it—he’s coming home today. After a whole week without him, the silence in this house has grown too loud, the nights too cold, and every little moment reminded me of him. Even my tea didn’t taste right. But alhamdulillah, even in his busyness, he kept messaging whenever he could. Just a simple “Thinking of you,” or a heart emoji between meetings, sometimes a picture of himself waiting for one of the directors in an office, with the caption “counting the days till I’m back where my heart is.” The road-building project he flew out for is massive—he explained it to me when he video called with that spark in his eyes, his passion so alive. I’m so proud of him. But it doesn’t make the waiting easier. I miss his voice reciting Qur’an before Fajr, I miss his sleepy smile every morning , I miss his warmth beside me at night. This week, while I’ve been trying to hold myself together, Rehana has been pouring her heart out too. She’s called almost every day. Yesterday she cried a little. “He always has time for his friends. Dinners, cricket matches, late-night braii, but when I want to talk or just sit with him, he’s suddenly ‘tired.’” She paused, and then whispered, “And his mum keeps expecting me to cook and be in the kitchen at her beck and call. If I even say I want to go out or rest, she acts like I’m selfish.” I listened, then said gently, “Rehana, your feelings are valid. But sometimes we have to communicate with calmness and firmness. Maybe try saying, ‘Ammi, I love serving you, but I also need some time for myself to rest or grow. Can we work something out?’” She sighed, “ Shezi, you don't understand!! I can't talk to her. She's not approachable. She doesn't listen. Someone needs to talk to her. She just doesn’t get it.” I hugged the phone and told her, “You be that someone, but with kindness. Lead her gently for now. * I whispered “ Shezi, come and stay here one day to understand what I am saying… I have no time for myself… plus I get so tired and it takes ages to get rid of the kitchen smell. * “Listen carefully Rehana, whatever happens please don't tell Ammi anything. Be patient, pray astaghfaar, ask Allah to guide you through this. And yes maybe I can ask mum to talk to her. She gets along well with your mother in law.” “Jazakillah Shezi, please do. “ I gently reminded Rehana, not to worry our mother with petty problems. I personally feel that married girls should be mindful not to carry every small issue or disagreement with their mother-in-law to their own mothers. While it's natural to seek comfort and support from one’s mother, constantly sharing minor frustrations can unintentionally create negativity, resentment, or distance between families. Often, what feels upsetting in the moment may resolve with patience, understanding, and time. But once shared, those impressions can leave lasting effects on hearts. It's wiser to handle small matters with maturity, dua, and open communication within the marital home, preserving love and respect on both sides and protecting the peace between two families who ultimately want the best for their children. As if all the women in my life have chosen this week to be extra vulnerable, Zahra stopped by in the afternoon. She was quiet, her eyes distant. “I feel so lonely, Shezana. This separation… I message him, I try to keep some kind of connection alive, but he just replies with things like, ‘Let’s keep some space for clarity. It’s better this way.’ What kind of clarity is found in silence?” I reached for her hand, held it firmly. “Sometimes people need space to hear their own hearts, Zahra. And maybe Allah is giving you both this time to remember Him. You’re not alone—you have me, and more importantly, you have your Rabb. He hears every unsent message, every tear.” She rested her head on my shoulder and we just sat in silence. That was all she needed today—someone to hold space for her pain. On a lighter note, Ammi has finally started the Qur’an and Tajweed class, I enrolled her for and she’s glowing like the moon in Ramadan. She says, “Beta, I feel like I’ve come back to life. I needed this more than I realized.” Her heart seems lighter, her tongue always murmuring verses now. It’s beautiful. And then Ameera ,my cute sister in law came in this evening, a bit nervous, holding her phone. She sat on the corner of the bed and said, “Shezana apa you know my friends… UmUmm they are always talking about boys. They are like trying to involve me in their conversations. I try to tell them what's right and what is not… BuBut not too much. See I don't want to lose my friends. Two of them already have boyfriends. “ I smiled and replied, “Hey sis, I know it can feel weird when all your friends are into boys and talking about having boyfriends. But just remember—you don’t have to follow what everyone else is doing. In our Deen, you’re super valuable, and your heart is something special, not something to just hand over to anyone. Focus on yourself, your goals, and your connection with Allah. The right person will come at the right time—in the right way. Don’t rush it. You’re worth way more than just being someone’s “temporary” girl.” “but the pressure Shezana apa, if I dont be like them i might lose them. “ She said twitching her nose. “Hey love 💛 I get you. You wanna stay close to your friends, fit in, not be the “odd one out,” right? Especially when they're always talking about stuff like boys and you’re like… “umm not really my vibe but okay 😅... First things first—you don’t have to become someone you’re not, just to be accepted. I know that sounds cliché but it’s real. If you have to hide your values or feel fake to keep people around… then maybe they’re not your people, OK Ameera? Or at least, not all the way your people." Ameera nodded. I went on to explaining more. " You can chill with them, joke around, be part of the convo without giving in to stuff that makes you uncomfortable or messes with your Deen. Like if they’re going on about boys, you don’t necessarily need to drop a loud “astaghfirullah” but you also don’t need to dive into the convo pretending you’re into it. Say something light like “you guys are wild” and steer the chat somewhere else. Change the topic, ok? It’s all about balance. And if you ever feel like you're losing yourself just to keep them? Step back. Not to cut them off, but to check in with you. Your deen, your peace, your heart—they matter. The right friends will love you for your piety, not in spite of it. You bring a calmness, a goodness, a vibe they probably need more than they realise. So don’t dim your light,my sis. Let it shine—softly, honestly, confidently. You’re not alone, and you’re not boring. You’re just different—in the best way.. Hold your head high. Allah’s got you. 🤍” I gave her a tight hug. “ I feel so good Shezana apa. So soo confident about not compromising my Deen. Please make dua this confidence lasts till I meet them” she said “You should come and sit with me in your free time. In fact invite your friends over for a fun barbecue… or even to meet your gorgeous bhabhi, they can come for chocolates… “ “that sounds so cool” “ Don’t let pressure or excitement ever cloud your decision. Let deen lead.” She nodded slowly, grateful. Alhamdulillah, today was full. Full of emotions, full of heart-conversations, full of reminders that we’re all just seeking love, peace, connection—in different forms. And today, I get mine back. I stood by the closet, fingers brushing against the hangers, heart fluttering just a little. He was coming home today. After days apart, the thought of seeing his face again, that gentle smile that always made everything feel okay—it made me pause. Should I wear the blue one he always says brings out my eyes? Or the soft peach he once called "sunset on you"? I laughed quietly at the memory, a warmth rising in my chest. It's funny how after all this time, it feels he's just here. I want to look nice—not because I have to, but because I want to. Because he’s mine, and I’m his. And today, we get to fall in love all over again. Ok, so decided, I’m going to put on his favourite blue hijab, spray a little of the perfume he gifted me , and wait by the door—just like in those early early days. Because love doesn’t get old. It deepens. It becomes home. *~ Love Shezana*