Salam dear friends,
I hope your past week has been well.
In this life that’s full of tests, truth is, we don’t really get to opt out of being strong.
We become strong not just for ourselves, but for those who count on us: our families, our friends, our teams, our communities.
But today, I want to talk about a quieter struggle.
The cost of always having to be strong… for everyone BUT yourself.
Maybe you've felt it.
You’re the one everyone turns to when they need a solution, a favour, a prayer, or a plan.
You nod, you smile, you give.
And when you’re all alone — your energy is gone, your chest is heavy, and your soul just wants to rest.
But even then, you whisper to yourself: “Just one more day. Just hold it together a little longer.”
Today’s newsletter is for you.
Let’s talk about it.
“No soul is burdened with more than it can bear…”
— Surah Al-Baqarah, 2:286
But what if you’ve been burdened for so long that your strength has quietly turned into a wound?
They look up to you.
They come to you with their problems.
They praise how strong you are — how you “always have it together.”
You’ve become their rock. Their guide. The reliable one.
But what happens when the rock starts to crack?
What happens when you actually need someone, yet everyone assumes you're the one who needs… no one?
You reply to that late-night text from a struggling friend…
You pick up the phone when your sibling calls, crying again…
You volunteer to cover for your colleague when they’ve hit burnout…
And yet, you can’t even remember the last time you had space to feel your own emotions.
People have asked me before:
“Mizi, how do you do so many things at once and not fall apart?”
And my answer, if I’m being honest, is:
There were times I did fall apart. Quietly. Alone. When no one was watching.
And that’s what today’s message is all about: The unseen cost of always being strong.
Strength, or Self-Sacrifice?
Sometimes we confuse resilience with self-neglect.
We think being “the strong one” means being invincible.
We become experts at:
Swallowing pain before it reaches the surface
Numbing ourselves just to carry on
Pretending to be okay — because it’s easier than explaining
But eventually…
Something breaks.
And it often breaks in silence.
I remember a moment, years ago, during one of my busiest weeks.
I had back-to-back training sessions, multiple deadlines, my phone wouldn’t stop buzzing with messages from people seeking advice… and to top it off, I was going through something personal I didn’t know how to talk about.
One of my interns (yup my intern) looked at me and said:
“Ustaz… you look like you could do with a long rest after this.”
She didn’t just say it out of concern. It was an observation. But it hit me.
Because the truth was…
I didn’t feel tired.
I was tired.
But I had numbed that feeling into non-existence.
When Strength Becomes a Mask
We often wear strength like armour. I know I did.
We say “I’m fine” because saying otherwise would mean letting someone in. I wasn’t comfortable with that.
And yet, the longer we keep the mask on…
The more detached we become from our own heart
The more we carry, the heavier we feel
The harder it is to even ask for help
Some of us grew up with this mindset.
That vulnerability = weakness.
That needing people makes us dependent.
But look at the Prophets.
Even they had moments of visible grief, frustration, and longing.
Even they asked for help — from Allah and from those around them.
What Islam Actually Teaches Us About Strength
True strength isn’t about never breaking. It’s about knowing when to pause. Where to turn. And Who to lean on.
Our beloved Prophet ﷺ once said:
“The strong person is not the one who can wrestle others, but the one who can control himself when angry.”
(Bukhari & Muslim)
Strength is inner mastery, not outward performance.
It’s not the silence. It’s the ability to speak when needed.
It’s not always saying yes. It’s knowing how to say no.
It’s not about taking it all on. It’s about recognising when your soul needs rest.
So What Can We Do?
Here’s a simple truth I’ve learned over time:
You don’t have to prove your strength to be worthy of love, respect, or purpose.
Here’s what helps:
a. Let people in. But let the right people in.
Not everyone deserves your vulnerability. But someone does. Let them hold space for you.
b. Make space for recovery, not just productivity.
You don’t need to earn rest. You need to prioritise it.
c. Speak to Allah. Often.
Especially when it’s just you and Him. In the still and quiet of the night. He knows. He sees. And He listens — especially when you're at your limit.
My Gentle Reminder to You
If you’ve always been the strong one…
It’s okay to ask for help.
If you’ve always been the one people run to…
Make sure you’re also “running” somewhere for your own healing.
If you’ve been the one holding everything together…
Let today be the day you loosen your grip. Just a little.
Breathe.
Rest.
Pray.
Heal.
You’re not weak for needing this.
You’re human. And beloved by Allah ﷻ.
Have a wonderful, productive, and restful week ahead my friend.
You are loved,
Mizi Wahid