I find it deeply interesting to observe the patterns that surface whenever problems arise in relationships. When I say relationships, I mean all kinds, between spouses, friends, siblings, parents and children, colleagues, and even within ourselves.
I often ask myself why so many people walk through life feeling unhappy, frustrated, angry, stressed, or heartbroken. Over time, through reflection and lived experiences, I’ve come to realise that there are two profound life lessons one must learn in order to be at peace with anyone we are connected to in this dunya.
Lesson One: Let Go of Expectations
What many people fail to realise is that relationships are complex and layered because we are not built the same. Each of us carries our own personality, values, principles, emotional capacity, life experiences, and quirks. Naturally, not everyone will be comfortable with the way we carry ourselves.Why does conflict arise then?
Expectations.
Expectation is one of the greatest culprits behind disappointment and pain in relationships. In society, we are subtly conditioned to believe that goodness must be reciprocal. When you are kind to a friend, always offering help, always showing up, you expect that kindness to be returned when you are in need. Parents who sacrifice time, energy, and wealth to raise their children often expect certain returns when they grow older, such as emotional attention, financial support and material comfort. A husband may expect his wife to fulfil specific roles and on the other hand, a wife may expect emotional security and understanding.
When expectations are not met, resentment grows. Conflict begins. Well, here is the uncomfortable truth...good deeds are meant to be done for Allah alone.
When our kindness is driven by the hope of reciprocation, the sincerity of that act quietly erodes. It becomes transactional, even if unintentionally so. That is expectation. Islam teaches us otherwise. Whatever good we do should be done with the intention of seeking Allah’s pleasure and not validation, gratitude, or return from people. When we let go of expectations, we gain freedom. Emotional freedom. Inner peace.
This shift in perspective has transformed my life. For example, I have a habit of giving birthday gifts to my close friends. I know their birthdays but usually never revealed mine. This is intentional. I do not want anyone to feel obliged or pressured to reciprocate. If I receive a gift, alhamdulillah... If I don’t, alhamdulillah still because I had no expectations to begin with. In this way, my emotional state remains untouched. By the way, gift-giving is a well-established sunnah of Prophet Muhammad ﷺ. He said:
“Give gifts to one another and you will love one another.”
(Reported in al-Adab al-Mufrad by al-Bukhari)
The value of a gift in Islam lies not in its price, but in the sincerity behind it. When we do good purely for Allah, we stop chasing people, approval, power, or status. We chase Allah’s love instead and that pursuit brings peace.
One sincere reminder. If you love someone and have done many good deeds for them, never destroy that relationship by listing your sacrifices during an argument. Allah knows what you have done and that is enough. Do not dilute the weighting of your good deeds just for the sake of acknowledgement and recognition from other people in this dunya. This life is a test. The ultimate goal is to return to Allah in a state that pleases Him.
Having said that, we have to know that Islam also teaches gratitude. Gratitude strengthens relationships and nurtures humility. When we are on the receiving end of goodness, we must acknowledge it. The Prophet ﷺ said:
“Whoever does not thank people has not thanked Allah.”
(Reported in Abu Dawud and al-Tirmidhi)
Lesson Two: Alignment Between Words, Feelings, Thoughts, and Actions
The second life lesson I learned, which can be said quite late in life is that many problems arise because of misalignment between what we say, what we feel, what we think, and what we do.
This realisation came to me during my Umrah journey in 2017. I went there with my mom, my siblings, my sister-in-law, and my young nephews. On our second morning in Mecca, we decided to go to Masjid al-Haram early to perform tawaf before the Subuh prayer. As we circled the Kaabah, my sister and sister-in-law naturally walked at a faster pace and soon disappeared into the crowd. I stayed behind, holding my mom’s hand and guiding her gently as we performed tawaf more slowly. Her knees were hurting, and she simply could not keep up with the pace of the crowd. Before long, the azan for Subuh was called. At that moment, I began to feel lost, anxious, and afraid. My thoughts raced...where would my mother and I pray and how would I locate my sister again in the sea of people? Adding to my worry was the fact that my sister had been carrying my mom’s folded chair throughout the tawaf. Yet, alhamdulillah, Allah made a way. I found a space for us to pray and a folded chair for my mom. After the prayer, I made a doa, sincerely asking Allah to reunite us.
I followed the crowd out through the gate and waited in front of the entrance of Masjid al-Haram, gently comforting my mother and assuring her that my sister and sister-in-law would appear soon. True enough, moments later, the two of them emerged from the crowd. My sister was holding the folded chair and the slippers bag in her hand. She smiled calmly and asked where mom and I had gone to pray. She then told me that both of them had performed their prayer near Hijr Ismail.
Despite everything turning out fine, anger had already taken root in me. I was upset with my sister. In my mind, she should have slowed down, knowing very well that our mother could not walk fast and that I was holding her hand during tawaf. I perceived their actions as selfish, and that perception clouded my emotions, even though Allah had taken care of us throughout the situation. Once we reached the hotel, I scolded her and accused her of being selfish for walking too fast. She was hurt but looked at me calmly and said,
“Adik, we were in Allah’s house. We made tawaf around the same Kaabah. How can you say you trust Allah, yet fear being lost here? You cannot get lost in Allah’s house. All you had to do was make doa”
Her words pierced my heart. She was right. I claimed to trust Allah, yet my thoughts, emotions, and reactions reflected fear and doubt. My iman was not aligned.
The most striking moment came the following day. After completing my tawaf, I was on my way to perform Sa‘ei when I noticed an elderly woman sitting by the side of the walkway. She was grumbling aloud, voicing her anger towards her son and the group who had brought her for Umrah. As I walked past, she stopped me and asked if I knew where her hotel was. She mentioned the name, but I had no idea where it was located. She continued expressing her frustration as her son and the group had walked too fast and left her behind. Now she was lost, unsure of how to find her way back to her hotel.
As I listened to her, I saw a clear reflection of my own behaviour from the day before. The irony was not lost on me. There I found myself offering her the very same words my sister had spoken to me,
“You are right in front of the Kaabah, in the House of Allah. You will never get lost. Just make doa and trust Allah. You will find your way.”
Only then did I realise, Allah was showing me a mirror. However, my advice didn't get to her. She was still voicing her anger. She said she had already made doa and had been sitting there for hours. Doa, she claimed, was not going to help her. Knowing that people are being tested differently by Allah, I continued walking, leaving her where she was. That moment stayed with me. I realised then that making doa alone is not enough. Doa must be accompanied by full trust in Allah and good thoughts of Him. It must be offered with sincerity, hope, and conviction. Our words, feelings, thoughts, and actions must be aligned. That alignment is not easy and that is the real challenge, to synchronise what we say we believe with how we feel, think, and act.
It is like saying you want to lose weight, yet continuing to eat unhealthy food and avoid exercise. When there is contradiction, results will not come. The same applies to relationships. Love that is expressed through hurtful words or violent actions will leave emotional scars. Children raised in such environments grow up feeling unloved, insecure, and broken despite being told they are loved.
Misalignment creates problems and damage. When we align our intentions, thoughts, emotions, words and actions, life becomes lighter. Relationships become gentler and our hearts find peace in meaningful connections. This dunya is temporary. May we learn the lessons meant for us and return to Allah with hearts that are sincere, aligned, and whole.
2025
