Blog 5:

My son wants to be taller. It’s all he talks about. He keeps asking me to measure him and every day he is disappointed that he hasn’t grown. As a mother, I can safely say he is my most good-looking child (and since I'm anonymous, my other children will never know I said that. 😅) He can lift an astounding amount at the gym, even though he is younger than the other guy. He gets nothing below 90s at school and was chosen as student rep for his grade. But nothing is good enough for him because he wants to be taller.

I think you can see where I’m going with this.

Growing up, I was pudgy (only slightly wink wink) and it made me very insecure. There was a particularly beautiful girl at school who was thin and tall. I wanted to be thin like her. I bumped into her recently and we chatted. You won’t believe what I got out of that conversation. She wanted my good marks, and we both envied each other’s looks without even knowing it.

Can you see how the nafs works? It is hiding everywhere in plain sight. And once you see it, you can’t unsee it. It is the uncomfortable truth of an invisible presence lurking amongst us at all times.

You see it when people need others to know they’re wealthy. You see it in the performances we put on to prove it. You see it in my son measuring himself against the wall every morning. And you see how it takes the one thing we don’t have and makes it everything.

When my novel is out, you will see it in action in Hafsah. It’s taking long to write because, as one Instagram follower asked, “How will you lift the veil between the nafs and reality?” And that is why it’s taking me so long. Is she the hero or the villain? Even she doesn't know, but I’m hoping to make you question every decision you thought was yours.

While you’re waiting (eagerly, I hope) think about the last time you were in a room full of people and your nafs lurked around there with you.

And share it with me, please. Anonymously, of course.