Assalamualaikum Reader,

I’m writing this week’s letter from a very real, very human place.

This week, I experienced what it truly feels like to have children fall sick back-to-back—one after another—including my newborn, who is just four months old. It meant cancelled calls, rescheduling plans, and surrendering control in ways I wasn’t prepared for.

One of the calls I had to cancel was especially hard for me. Another was a guest session by CJ on delegation—something I was really looking forward to. But despite the exhaustion, that session ended up offering powerful reminders: how delegation is deeply tied to our emotions, how guilt keeps us stuck, and how simple brain-dump practices can help us release mental overload instead of carrying everything alone.And in the middle of all this, I experienced my first postpartum period.
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For years, my cycles were extremely painful. This time, it was lighter. And I felt a deep sense of gratitude. For the past three months, I’ve been doing hijama consistently, and this experience reminded me of something important:

we don’t heal to live longer, we heal to live better.

This is the barakah of choosing healing again and again—even when life feels heavy.

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When Understanding Feels One-Sided

There were moments this week where understanding men felt exhausting.

That quiet question surfaced again: Why am I expected to understand him when he doesn’t seem to understand me?

We talk often about rahmah and intentional love. But there are moments when it feels unfair. Especially in a time where motherhood looks so different—where we are more emotionally aware, more present, more exposed to ideas through social media.

And I noticed something uncomfortable in myself: I apply those standards mostly to me.

I compare my husband to the example of Rasulullah ﷺ and feel disappointed. I worry when he misses salah. I fear what it means for our children. I internalize it as my failure—as if I’m not doing enough, not being enough.

But then I paused. Our husbands didn’t come with a manual. They didn’t grow up in a generation that spoke about emotional safety the way we do now. They are navigating change just as imperfectly as we are.

And what I realized is this: Perfectionism has very quiet roots.

It disguises itself as responsibility, righteousness, and concern, but underneath, it drains us.

When the narrative in your heart about your husband becomes constantly negative, something inside you needs attention.

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What I’m Seeing in our Community

Last week, I conducted marriage audits with close to 15 women.

Almost every single woman said the same thing: “I don’t feel emotionally connected to my husband.”

And many also said:

“I’m scared to work on myself.”

“I’m too tired.”

“I’ve never done this before.”

I want to say this gently:

Yes, it is tiring.

But it doesn’t have to be heavy.

As I sit here holding four sick children, I can tell you, everything can be broken down, simplified, and made doable.

Over the past few years of my marriage, life has been intense. Busy. Overwhelming. But looking back, I see Allah guiding me, again and again, towards becoming more intentional, more aware, more rooted.

You may never fully understand a man. But acceptance, not resistance, prepares your heart for what lies ahead.

And that preparation requires one thing above all else: a woman who feels worthy.

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Respect, Romance & the Choice of Peace

In my last letter, I spoke about how we want both respect and romance.

And I want to say this clearly: Those cannot grow from a place of low self-worth.

They cannot come from confusion or emotional depletion. They grow when a woman feels clear. When she feels confident.

When she chooses peace, not as an escape, but as an anchor. As we approach the end of the year, everything will continue to demand your attention. But I want to invite you to choose your peace. Because your peace shapes your home.

Your peace becomes the emotional memory your children carry.

Your peace becomes the story you live with.

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If you feel called to work through this season intentionally—to regain clarity, confidence, and emotional strength—I would be honoured to support you. My calendar is always open to book a call to explore what it would look like to have me in your corner.

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Duas,

Insiya

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