Hijab Over the Heart
Reimagining Al Ghazali wrote to my 10 year old on my Substack anniversary
Salaam! This month, I’m celebrating my 2-year anniversary of writing Ugly Shoes, Paper Planes.
The vibe of Season 5 is this photo, courtesy of my husband’s cousin.
I am a child playing with my friends here on Substack. We’re cozy. Even if we’ve just met at the masjid parking lot, I feel like I’ve known you a long time.1 Maybe we ran into each other at a gorgeous coffee shop called Haraz started by Shili, Sami and Hashir. Maybe we met in the realm of souls before we were here. No matter the origin story of how we met, now we sit together on a fuzzy carpet that is so worn, it could use professional deep cleaning. There are no party balloons. There’s no trendy music (I gave up music almost 4 years ago). No highlight reels (still don’t know how to make those). I don’t even carry my phone with me, so there’s nothing to record.
Others might assume that we’re just a bunch of girls playing.
But I promise you, the playing is the real work of growing up.
There’s a castle in the middle of the photo. This is our imagination.
“Imagination is a precursor to transformation.
Imagination has a vital function in the refusal of the constraints of received ideas.”
So, I imagine you fly paper planes when it’s windy. You join me for impromptu picnics in the backyard. You like adventures under the ocean. You enjoy my experimental and underseasoned cooking, especially fried okra and daal chaawal. You are incrementally making strides towards something different from what you grew up with, like making space for hifz or sacred knowledge. You ask me to explain ideas that are not clear, and you wish to ask me for the story between the lines. You like my style of storytelling in which I start at the end, and work to the beginning. You’re curious about what I’m reading, whether it’s tafsir or Dr. Seuss.
I’m here, on this fuzzy carpet with you, and I realize that I am no longer alone.
We have each other.
Our work is all of the people and stuff that go into building a joyful, purposeful life. The maintenance of our minds, bodies, and hearts are the real work of this life. The chores of putting away the toys, cleaning out the fridge, planning, groceries-- this is the daily maintenance of our life.
This. is. Work.
Even if my work looks like play, or your work looks like play, we are working together to create something beautiful. Together. Side by side .
One of my spouse’s friends read my last essay, said it was really thought-provoking and sent me $100. For a book, or a cup of coffee, the maximum might be $20. But for an essay? Subanallah. I could not imagine such a thing 2 years ago when I started. To be paid to write is literally my childhood dream.
There are 25 patrons who support this publication. May God bless each one for her investment, whether it continues or stops. Jazakallah khairun. Thank you for staying with me, on this cozy rug, as we imagine how Imam Al Ghazali might write you a letter.
I’ve adapted a 12th-century text “Dear Beloved Son” by Imam Al-Ghazali, into a fresh format for 2025. The idea came from a conversation, as most great ideas come from some one, some source that is outside of ourselves. Security, safety, and stability only come from one source. They can never be found in a person, and the more you chase it (in a job, a car, or a relationship), the less likely you will find it, especially in the dhuniyah.
Dear Lovely Girl:
Today is the day I remember your birth and show gratitude that you are my daughter.
May God grant you a long life as his obedient servant and may He place you in His service alone. May God guide you to the right path of those who love Him and are loved by Him. Ameen.
This letter is my gift to you, on the month of your birth.
First, know my child that real advice should come from the Revelation and Sunnah. If you have that, why do you need your mother’s advice?
A mother’s advice, truth-telling and love are worth more than all the gold and diamonds you could ever wear, more than all the squishy toys and slime in the world. I know you don’t believe me.
On Time
“The sign that God has turned away from His worshipper is his busying himself in what does not concern him; and if a man has passed an hour of his life in other than for which he was created, it is certainly fitting that his grief should be prolonged and whoever has reached the age of forty, and his good does not surpass his evil, let him prepare for the Fire.” - from the Prophet (ﷺ)
This is advice for people of knowledge. Your mama is approaching 40 in Dhul Hijjah and I worry about this all the time.
What have I done with my time except write essays and make other people’s lives easier? I pray that i can raise you with proper tarbiyya, and the last 126 essays were an account of who I am and what I care about: descriptive ethics, caregiving, truth.
On Knowledge
My dear daughter, to give advice is an easy matter. The difficulty is accepting the advice since it is bitter for those who follow their own inclinations and desires. There are people who love the forbidden from the depths of their hearts. These people believe that mere abstract knowledge, without proper action, will rescue them. This is the belief of the philosophers.
Don’t study philosophy like your mama did.
Today’s philosophers are the social media influencers who give you little nuggets of knowledge, packaged in pretty colors with links to products that will make you happier, younger, and more beautiful.
As a girl, the expectations set by society are grossly unfair and biased against you acquiring beneficial knowledge. Society will prefer you defer to others for your validation and worth, not God.
Remember, weak men and strong men look exactly the same, until you come to discern their character. Sometimes a man who looks weak can be surprisingly strong emotionally and a strong man can be incredibly weak emotionally. It’s just another paradox.
The markets prefer that you as a girl are slightly insecure, slightly dissatisfied and mostly preoccupied with your body, beauty, and nafs.
Benefiting from knowledge means that you actively apply what you learn, not simply acquire more stuff in your closet. In fact, the more you know, the less you will be interested in acquiring.
On Evaluation
My dear daughter, evaluation means making a judgment. Our Prophet (S) said:
“Evaluate your works before you are asked to account for them. Weigh your works before you are evaluated.” Ali, his son-in-law (RA) said, “Those who think they can achieve their aims without work are dreaming, and those who think that they will attain the goal through exertion alone are self-confident and consider themselves self-sufficient.”
Each year, maybe on your birthday, take yourself into account. Try to figure out what things you can improve. Figure out what is broken. Try to fix what is broken before you get a replacement.
Is there a check engine light going off?
Hijab Over the Heart
Do not judge a woman based on how she is dressed.
Wearing hijab does not make you “more pious” or more worthy in the eyes of the Creator. Is it more pleasing to your Creator? Absolutely. But does it mean that you as a person can say and do as you please because you’re wearing hijab? No.
In fact, I would posit that wearing hijab means you wear it over your heart, not just over your head. It means you protect the people who are under your care: your spouse, your children, your family. Generations ago, women knew how to do this naturally. Women’s spaces were forbidden (haram) to the male gaze.
But in this age of social media, immodesty is rampant everywhere, especially from influencers, from people revealing the most intimate details of their lives, their hearts, and spaces. I see it here on Substack, too. It’s called vulnerability or authenticity and it’s an extension of liberalism. Let me unpack that in a different essay, and I need more coffee.
A woman’s dress (or lack thereof) does not make her unworthy of respect; she is still someone created like you and me. She has intrinsic worth and a point of view you may disagree with.
On Death
My dear daughter, live as long as you may, you will certainly die one day. Love whoever you wish (within the Shariah), because one day you will taste separation, and do what you will, and you will be rewarded accordingly. One day I will not be here, and you will be okay because I taught you applied knowledge, not just how to fold your socks.
Action
My dear beloved daughter, knowledge without action is insanity and action without knowledge is vanity. Know that knowledge today will not distance you from sins, nor bring you into obedience, nor distance you from the fire of Hell tomorrow. If you do not act today and do not derive lessons from your past days, you will say on the Last Day,
“Please can I go back to do more good deeds?”
And the response will be a hard no. You cannot go back in time to do more good deeds. So do as much good as you can now, while you still can.
Smile. Give charity. Don’t wait for special occasions or vacations to do good for your family.
My dear beloved daughter, I’ve given you wisdom from one of the greatest spiritual thinkers and teachers. This is just a little bit, but I hope to expand this series as you get older, inshallah.
Love,
Mama
Questions for You
Which piece of advice resonated with you? Have you ever written yourself a letter? I’m curious. Let’s meet in the comments!
A Call to Action
If you are inspired by this piece of writing, please share it.
Please tap the heart so more people can find this post.
If you are more than a little inspired, I invite you to join me in giving to a charity of your choice. Muslims give charity in times of sadness and happiness. Here are some opportunities:
Intimate Partner Violence affects 1 in 4 women in America. This organization was started by an extraordinary woman who experienced extraordinary things. Isn’t that always the case?
Trees will outlive us, so there are so many reasons to plant a tree in memory of someone you love or appreciate. I learned this practice from David, (may God have mercy on him). He was the head of HR at my old company and he planted 20 trees in honor of my daughter’s birth. I’m not sure if this is a Jewish thing, or an American thing, but I kept up his good habit. This is one of my favorite charities, and I hope to have the ability to plant fruit trees with my kids one day.
If you liked this, you might like these other essays:
Dear Beloved Daughter
Hello! Today I’m celebrating the 1-year anniversary of writing Ugly Shoes. In my 6-month anniversary post, I compared writing this weekly newsletter to a kindergartner learning to read. The metaphor now is a child reaching for balloons, trying to make friends, and exploring whatever she’s curious about.
6 Month Anniversary with Substack
Ugly Shoes, Paper Planes is a reader-supported publication. If you have the means and value my work as a Muslim woman digital creative, I’d be so grateful if you’d consider becoming a paid subscriber or upgrading your membership.
Hi, I’m Sadia. I write through the ugly stage of motherhood, as a mom of young children and I am trying to make space for creativity and the pursuit of spiritual knowledge. I write about topics like theology, culture, gratitude, and trying to live a prophetic life in modern times.
If you’ve learned something or benefited from my work, please find membership options below. Membership starts at $5/month but you can give whatever you like. You’ll have access to my full archive of 120+ essays. Thank you.
People in sales can often make you feel like you’ve known them forever, even when you have just meet them for the first time. I worked in fundraising, which is like sales but it’s to sell an idea, not a product.
MashaAllah amazing insights. I was especially moved by the reflection on weak and strong men… how character isn’t always visible at first glance, and how strength can wear the face of silence, patience, and inner stability. That truth is a lifeline in a world obsessed with surfaces.
And the line about wearing hijab over the heart. SubhanAllah, what a reminder. It’s not just cloth, it’s conduct. Not just about being seen, but about how we protect, how we preserve, and how we carry amanah with dignity. These aren’t small insights. They’re the quiet revolutions we need in every home, every soul, every generation. JazakiAllah khair for this piece!