Struggling with Trials After Marriage: A Journey of Faith and Pain
As-Salaamu Alaykum wa Rahmatullahi wa Barakatuh, I am a Muslim man in my 30s, raised in a family that identified as Muslim but did not practice the Deen. I found my way to Islam sincerely in my late teens and experienced a strong spiritual connection for about ten years. During that time, I dedicated myself to learning deeply—studying Aqeedah, Fiqh, and other Islamic sciences under respected scholars. I gave khutbahs, recited the Qur’an with precise Tajweed and beautiful melody, performed Umrah, engaged in dawah, attended the masjid daily, and even wore a thobe regularly. I truly believed I was on the right path. However, everything changed after marriage. I was encouraged with the idea of completing “half my Deen,” but what actually happened felt like losing my Deen altogether. I married someone from my university who appeared pious, wore hijab, and shared my cultural background. But this relationship brought immense hardship. Though I loved my spouse deeply and considered them my closest companion, the marriage became toxic and abusive. Despite my patience, I was blamed for the problems, and in the end, my spouse left without taking responsibility. What I initially considered trials soon felt like harsh punishments. Every challenge distanced me from Allah, filling my heart with anger and confusion. It was hard to comprehend why someone striving sincerely for Allah’s pleasure would endure such trauma and pain. I sought help through du’a, charity, therapy, and ruqyah, yet nothing prevented this nightmare. Some suggested black magic, though only Allah knows the truth. Now, after months of loneliness and sadness, I find myself trapped in emptiness. I understand what is right and maintain hope in Allah’s mercy, but my heart struggles with feelings of being forsaken. Despite all my sacrifices and efforts, I feel rejected and overwhelmed by pain and anger that could shake the world. My knowledge confirms Islam’s truth, yet I wonder why these severe trials are my portion. Deep down, I remain a Muslim and continue to pray, but I no longer have the strength to live as I once did. I have lost so much—my dignity, my peace—and I carry my burdens silently. Therapy has its limits; only Allah truly knows my suffering, and perhaps that is my greatest sorrow—that despite my sincere striving, the hardship persists. I plan to perform Umrah by the end of this year and will strive to maintain my prayers whenever possible. Yet, I am a changed person, having relinquished many hopes. I question the purpose of my endurance when I have avoided all that is forbidden and done good, only to face such hardship. I pray that Allah grants me healing and ease one day. For now, I ask for your du’as as I navigate this deep despair. Jazakum Allahu khairan.