Messengers of Peace Academy is holding an online graduation ceremony for the 2022 intake—MashaAllah TabarakAllah!

I’m looking forward to attending, even if it’s from the comfort of my jammies. It’s an honor.

But if I’m being honest, the introvert in me will definitely get the best of me. Though I’m tempted, I’ve decided to opt out of the graduation speech nomination. Some moments are best experienced in quiet gratitude rather than public expression.

Still, I cannot deny how impactful this journey has been. The Academy made the experience feel as real as possible, despite being entirely online. Personally, it became the catalyst for publishing digital products for my small da’wah initiative, #deenfluencer. For that, I am forever grateful. It gave my first freebie the audience it deserved, and that alone has doubled my motivation. Now, I can only hope the audience is equally deserving of a project I hold close to my heart.

But this moment of celebration also takes me back to another defining moment—one that I’ve been quiet about.

Some time ago, the same academy shortlisted me for a scholarship recommendation. Alhamdulillah. #alhamdulillah.

I had mentioned completing the theoretical part of the Messengers of Peace Academy أكاديمية رسل السلام Online Da’wah Training Program in April, and last month, I documented my practical project before finally hitting the submit button.

Shortly after, I received my certificate. But that wasn’t the best part. A few days later, an email landed in my inbox. I had been chosen as one of the candidates recommended for a full scholarship at…

Wait for it…

Islamic University of Madinah.

Yes. You read that right.

Now you understand why this post is difficult to write. Because my first instinct? Drop everything. Pack up. Go.

Why not?

Reach for the stars…

“You miss all the shots you don’t take.”

But reality hit me.

I am the primary caregiver of my non-verbal, autistic son, who is only five years old. We are not in our home country, and my husband and I made the conscious choice to manage without a helper—one of the reasons I stepped away from my career in the first place.

Leaving my son with relatives was never an option either. I took it upon myself to break cycles of generational trauma. I won’t elaborate too much because, unfortunately, many people—especially those who pride themselves on hustling—would see this as an excuse.

Believe me, I know.

I hear them, even from the comfort of my own home, where I navigate the exhausting yet fulfilling life of a Super Stay-At-Home Mum.

This was a major turning point in my life.

I showed the email to my husband. He was just as excited—until, of course, his fast calculations began. A move like this is easier said than done.

So naturally, I wrote a long email to the academy. I expressed my gratitude, acknowledged the immense honor, and conveyed my eagerness by letting them know I had already studied the admission guidelines.

Just reading about the perks of this scholarship made my head spin. And truthfully, it broke my heart a little. Had there been a similar opportunity online or part-time, I would have moved mountains to make it work.

But I had to make a decision.

A decision that would turn my life 360 degrees.

And while I am all for it, I also had to think of my son. His needs. His well-being.

Being a wife and a mother is just as honorable as being a scholar. And so, I will continue learning, growing, and sharing the Deen—at my own pace, in my own space, within the responsibilities Allah has entrusted me with. And that alone makes my heart content.

I am only ever grateful. Alhamdulillah.

Grateful to Allah, first and foremost.
Grateful to the Academy for recognizing the worth of my project.
Grateful that this experience will keep me moving forward, in shaa’ Allah.

So that ends my little STORYTIME.

And I leave you with this gem: “Mindful motivation includes considering how tone-deaf some inspirational quotes can be. Don’t just drop them here and there without thought.”