The road less traveled - For those patiently waiting for the sake of Allah

Assalualaikum. Hope you’re doing okay. This is a little reflection on the struggles of “the search” and a letter to myself. I’ll speak in first person so anyone going through the same thing might relate. “Two roads diverged in a yellow wood…” I’ve often wondered-why keep someone temporary without any nikah when Allah, Rabb-ul-‘Izzah, may have better plans for me? We’re told to choose halal over haram, no matter how tempting the haram seems. For 25 years I waited for someone who would walk with me towards Allah, who’d help me grow and be our best selves for His sake. But what I didn’t realise was how painful that chosen path could be-like clutching a burning coal in fragile palms. My skin hurt, my hands ached for relief, my eyes filled with tears, yet my love for Al-Wadood never faded because I knew the hardship was worth it. After all, every soul shall taste death. I reminded myself the torment would end and I’d meet my Beloved. As I grew, I watched friends cuddle with their boyfriends from afar, their faces lit up and smiling. I wondered if Allah was pleased, if I should have that too, if it could be halal. I knew the answer: it wasn’t. What looked innocent at 13 could lead to things that anger Allah. From holding hands to late-night vulgar messages-Shaytaan knows how to lead people astray. I was a shy kid who hadn’t held a boy’s hand, just trying to understand Allah and why He sets limits. Later I saw the darker side: what began as soft whispers became manipulation. I watched friends cry after being used. They feared the world’s gaze, but not my Rabb’s. I held their hands and pointed them back to Allah, letting them pour out their hearts. I prayed for halal then, and still do. But halal wasn’t easy-sometimes it felt like searching for water in a desert, with mirages of charming men who weren’t sincere. A hand would reach for mine and I’d pause-should I or shouldn’t I? Then I’d hear my Rabb say, “La tahzan, innallaha ma’ana.” I’d drop my hands and fall to my knees-better to stay thirsty than be fooled by a mirage. Now at 25, part of me is still that child, asking when the reward for choosing halal will come. I wait gladly and will continue until my last breath, knowing someone chosen by my Rabb awaits me in Jannah. The wait is consuming and yet uplifting. People can disappoint-choosing appearances over akhlaaq-but Allah never disappoints. When my heart aches for having taken the less travelled road, I turn to Al-Mujeeb. He answers. Hasbunallahu wa ni'mal wakeel. That brings peace. People may judge, hurt, or be unfair. But halal is rarely easy. I must hold the coal, stay patient in the desert, fall to my knees when it stings, tend my wounds, and above all, keep waiting patiently. May Allah make it easy for all of us. Ameen ❤️