If you follow me on Instagram, you might have seen a recent reel about perfectionism.

Perfectionism, the all-or-nothing mindset and procrastination are cruel siblings. Perfectionism keeps us stuck; makes us avoid trying for fear of failure; and so we give up – we choose to do nothing because doing it ‘all’ feels impossible. And, as in other areas of life – work, study, living a healthy lifestyle – perfectionism is paralysing if it creeps into your practice of Islam.

But what if you gave yourself permission to be less than perfect….even to fail?

After all, Allah never asked us for perfection.

I like to talk about intentions as much as I talk about goals.

Goals can seem big and overwhelming. But intentions are soft, no pressure, easy to implement.

This week, I’m setting the intention to calm my nervous system before starting my work each day. Recently – through a mixture of excitement and nervousness – I have been showing up at my desk with a sense of urgency and full of ideas. I’m now learning how to introduce ‘soft starts’ to my working day.

So, give it some thought…what soft intentions can you start the week with?

Today, find a quiet 10 or 15 minutes to yourself, and reflect:

How much of myself am I giving to others? How can I continue to serve without sacrificing myself? What promises am I keeping to myself – and if I’m not, how can this change?

I saw an Instagram post the other day that got me thinking about how often Islam is treated as ‘all or nothing’.

Someone had asked for advice about concentration in prayer. They said they sometimes forget which Surah they’re reciting, or even whether they’ve read Al-Fatiha.

Some people responded with kindness and understanding. But one comment stood out:
“How can you even forget if you’ve read Al-Fatiha?”

It was an ‘all or nothing’ response.
The kind that says, “If you can’t get it right, then why even try?”

Since when was Islam about perfection?
Since when did we decide that struggling makes you less sincere? That harsh comment stayed with me. Not because it was unique, but because it’s so common.

We see it everywhere – with prayer, with hijab, with almost anything. Someone shares a struggle and instead of compassion, they get correction or shame.

But faith isn’t strengthened by fear. It grows in safe spaces.

People need to feel safe to be honest about where they’re at; to say, “I’m finding this hard,” without worrying they’ll be judged.

If our goal is to bring hearts closer to Allah, then empathy isn’t optional. It’s the path.

If you sit with yourself for a moment and ask ‘How much of myself am I hiding from the world?’ what would the honest answer be?

Scared of sharing opinions. Compromising just to fit in. Working a job you hate to meet the expectations of others. Pretending to have it all together.

Now ask yourself, ‘What am I losing because of this hiding?’

What would it feel like to show up as your true, authentic self? What could you let go of? How much lighter would life feel?

I know this isn’t an overnight fix…but I will set you this challenge for today – to sit with the question. Because without the honesty, there’s no way to progress.

When I first embraced Islam, it seemed so light and easy. The thing that brought me into Islam was the Shahada – the declaration of faith. The belief that only Allah is worthy of worship, and that the Prophet Mohammad (pbuh) was the last and final messenger.

That simplicity lasted a couple of years…but over time, the version of Islam that Muslims were presenting to me became noisy. Do this, don’t do that, what’s your opinion on XYZ…

For a while, I let that overwhelm me. Perhaps you’ve felt that way too.

But then I learnt to always anchor to that very thing that brought me into the fold of Islam – the Shahada. As long as I can say those words deeply, with heart, Alhamdulilah I feel close to that beautiful simple essence of Islam.

I’ve been thinking about gratitude recently. Psychology tells us that when we look for good, we find it. When we show gratitude, we find more to be grateful for.

Of course, as Muslims – we know this very well (“If you are grateful, I will surely increase you [in favor]” – Surah Ibrahim, 7).

But whilst the word is writing gratitude lists as part of their wellness routines, are we Muslims doing the same? Are we saying ‘Alhamdulilah’ for all our blessings, no matter how small?

So your task for today is to write out your ‘Alhamdulilah’ list. And see how Allah gives you more to be grateful for, inshaAllah.

Over the years, there have been struggles, questions and curiosities that I’ve kept bottled up inside for fear of judgement.

I was always worried about getting the ‘scholarly answer’. Or a dismissive ‘That’s just the way it is,’ or ‘You just have to do it,’ or, ‘You’re questioning what?!’

I wished I had a safe space for someone to listen. Not to jump in, advise or educate – but just listen and offer some gentle reflections and guidance.

InshaAllah this is now what I offer my clients. So, if you’re in need of that safe space, reach out and let’s talk.

Imagine the woman you really want to be. The one you know you were created to be. How does she show up? How does she carry herself? What does she value?

As the saying goes – ‘Dress for the job you want’ – we have to begin to embody the woman we aspire to be.

So, what’s one thing you can do today that will help you to become her?

I’ve come to think of the menstrual cycle like the seasons. In the follicular phase and ovulation, we step forward into the world with the energy of Spring and Summer. But, as the luteal phase begins, we must honour rest – and when Winter brings our period, we turn inwards.

Of course, Islam already recognises this need for rest, as we take a break from prayer and fasting. But rather than thinking of the Winter of our cycle as a time where we disconnect, I want to think of it as an opportunity for a different kind of spiritual connection.

It’s a time where we can reflect on our own spirituality; our soul-connection with our Creator; and practice of worship through ‘being’, not just ‘doing’.

I can remember times when I’ve sat in silence, not wanting to share my opinion for fear of judgement or challenge.

Yes, there’s always a time for ‘keeping the peace’. But there are also times when silence becomes a betrayal of who we really are.

If we’re to honour our authentic selves and live in alignment, sometimes this means letting go of approval.

As women, we can easily fall into the trap of showing up as the person we think we’re supposed to be. We have ‘roles’ to fulfil – the dutiful daughter, the mum who ‘has it all together’, the colleague who is ‘so helpful’ and ‘never says no’.

Add religious obligation and expectation into the mix, and it’s easy to completely lose sight of our authentic self. We show up as the ‘good girl’, pretending to get everything right.

Hands up if you’re exhausted…

The work begins with a reconnection with our values and an honest look at how we’re performing for others. Then, challenging our people-pleasing and learning to set boundaries helps us protect who we really are.

If we want to show up as our true selves, there’s hard work to be done. But it’s worth the investment. Reach out if you’re ready for the work.

We all know the feeling. You stand for Salah, blink, and suddenly you’ve no idea what you have/haven’t read or which Rakat you’re on.

You have, however, planned what you’re having for dinner tonight and replayed that earlier conversation with your boss.

Presence and focus (khushoo) in Salah is something that eludes many of us. But we all aspire to have it. Yet, when it came to learning to pray – whether in childhood or adulthood – you were probably taught what to do and what to say, before being taught how to foster the kind of connection we all long for.

So here’s a challenge for before you begin your next prayer:
Spend 3 minutes deep breathing.
Scribble down anything that’s in your mind.
Plan what surahs you are going to read, and what duas you’re going to make.
And when you begin to pray, slow down your movements, and let your body settle into each position.

I’d love to hear what difference it makes!

It’s time to pause.

Look back on the week so far, and ask yourself:

Where have I been ‘doing’ faith? And where have I been ‘feeling’ faith connection?

I used to think that to be a better Muslim, I needed to know more. I was a victim of comparison – looking at other women and thinking that I wasn’t ‘good enough’.

But then I realised that knowledge doesn’t always equal connection. And anyway, one of the things that attracted me to Islam was the lack of a ‘middle-man’; I didn’t need to have knowledge or status to be seen and loved by Allah.

So I let go of the comparison. I let go of always thinking I should be ‘knowing or doing more’. Instead, I focussed on connection.

I may not be a scholar, but I am Allah’s servant – in all my imperfection.

Is it time you let go of chasing ‘knowing’ and ‘doing’ more, and allowed yourself to just ‘be’?

Take a moment from the demands of the world, and follow this short visualisation to ground you in peaceful practice.

Close your eyes.
Picture a quiet space – soft light, calm air, no noise, no judgement.

Here, it’s just you and Allah.
No pressure to perform, no guilt to carry.
Just presence. Just peace.

Your prayer feels lighter here.
Your heart feels seen.

You can return to this space anytime.

When’s the last time you spent time in complete silence and solitude?

I’m not talking about that walk you went on, listening to your favourite podcast. Or that 20 minutes you had curled up with your favourite book.

I’m talking about total silence, on your own. With nothing but your own thoughts for company.

We rarely make time for it, but sometimes solitude can be the best spiritual reset. It allows for those thoughts and feelings we’ve been avoiding to come up – and for raw emotion to come to the surface…

And that’s when the connection happens. We remember Allah in those moments, giving Him words of gratitude or asking for His help.

Why not try it today – 15 minutes of silent solitude, and watch your connection to Allah shift.

I don’t know about you, but I used to feel that setting boundaries would make me a bad Muslim.

I thought that my heart should be open to everyone – my fellow Muslim should have access to me. But I was naïve.

Getting good at setting boundaries protects our peace. I needed to remind myself of what Islam does, and doesn’t, expect of me. And I used this as my guide.

In Islam, we’re taught balance and intention in everything. That includes who we give our time, energy, and attention to. Saying no isn’t selfish; it’s an act of sincerity. If saying yes would pull you away from Allah or leave your heart unsettled, then saying no becomes an act of self-love.

So if there’s something sitting heavy on your chest right now; something you said ‘yes’ to, when you really meant ‘no’, give yourself permission to set a boundary, and protect your peace.

Guilt is one of those feelings we hold onto because we think it keeps us close to Allah. We tell ourselves that if we feel bad enough, maybe it means we care.

But guilt isn’t the same as Taqwa. It’s a story we’ve created to convince ourselves that pain equals piety.

But guilt often keeps us stuck. It makes us replay mistakes instead of learning from them. It makes us fear Allah’s disappointment more than we trust His mercy.

What brings you closer to Allah isn’t guilt. It’s awareness. It’s turning back, seeking forgiveness, and then moving forward with intention.

Let go of the guilt. Hold onto the lesson. That’s where the real connection begins.

Here’s where spirituality comes in. Because what’s the point of rituals if there’s no spiritual connection?

If you don’t take a moment to notice the beauty of flowers blooming in Spring…
If you don’t bother to thank the waiter who serves you with a smile…
If your heart doesn’t move when you walk past someone sleeping on the streets…
Then where is your heart connection to the Creation and the Creator?

Noticing the spiritual world makes ritual more profound.

Let’s try a little experiment.

If you come to Salah straight from your office desk – inbox overflowing, heart racing, nervous system fried – what’s the connection like? But if you take off your shoes, walk barefoot on the grass, feel your connection to the earth, take a few mindful breaths… and then come to Salah, the experience changes completely.

There have been times when I’ve felt completely disconnected from the rituals of Islam.

But what has been a constant, even in those moments, is the spiritual connection.
That deep knowing that in my awareness of and awe for the Creation, I’m also strengthening my bond with the Creator.

There’s a Hadith that goes, “Islam began as something strange and will go back to being strange, so give glad tidings to the strangers.” (Muslim, 145).

Although this is often interpreted as referring to the small number of Muslims who will be practicing Islam in its entirety, I’ve been thinking about this recently in the context of recent heightened tension in the UK.

I’m a firm believer that much of the anti-Muslim sentiment we see in the UK comes from ignorance – much of the population knowing nothing about Islam; seeing it as something ‘strange’, and to be feared.

So, just as Islam began as something strange, maybe it is once again.

But it’s the last part of this Hadith that moves me to tears: “…so give glad tidings to the strangers.” We Muslims, especially in the West, should take comfort from this. However we interpret the Hadith, as practicing Muslims, we are in receipt of glad tidings and, InshaAllah, our beloved Prophet (peace be upon him) will recognise us as such.