Allah First: Why Was I Created?

Let me start with something a little embarrassing. For a long time, if you'd asked me what my life was about, I'd have answered with a list. Mother. Daughter. Wife. Someone who runs things, organises things, remembers everyone's appointments. I'd have said it with a straight face, even proudly. And to be clear, those roles are real. Islam honours every one of them.

But one night, a random one, nothing dramatic happened, I was sitting on the edge of my bed with the whole house finally quiet, and a thought came in that I couldn't push out: if every one of these roles was taken off me tomorrow, what would be left? What was I actually made for?

I had no answer ready. That scared me a bit. I'd been busy for years, and I couldn't say what all the busyness was for.

This blog is me thinking out loud about that question, and about what it means to put Allah first, which is the theme we're starting our journey with in Embracing Femininity. I'm not writing this as someone who has it all figured out. I'm writing it as someone who's still learning to live it, and who keeps needing to be reminded.

Most of us learn early on to ask what do I want to be? and what do I want to do? Nobody sits us down and asks *why was I created?* Yet that's the first question, and everything else sits underneath it.

The Qur'an doesn't leave us guessing. Allah says, in meaning: I did not create the jinn and mankind except to worship Me (Adh-Dhariyat 51:56).

Read it slowly. It's short and it's direct, and there's no small print. Before we were a daughter, a wife, a mother, a student, an entrepreneur, before we had a name, we were created for this.

I think we skip the question because the answer feels like it will take something away from us. Like admitting "I was made to worship" means shrinking our dreams, our personality, our ambitions. I used to feel that pull myself. But the more I sat with it, the more I realised the opposite is true. It doesn't shrink anything. It gives everything else its place.

When I was younger, I heard that ayah and pictured a sister on a prayer mat all day and nothing else. Salah, Qur'an, dhikr, repeat. And because my life obviously didn't look like that, I quietly concluded that I was failing at my purpose.

But worship in Islam is much wider than the acts we do on the prayer mat. Allah tells the Prophet ﷺ to say: "Indeed, my prayer, my sacrifice, my living and my dying are for Allah, Lord of the worlds" (Al-An'am 6:162). Look at the words: my living .Not just my sujood, my living.

And the Prophet ﷺ taught that actions are judged by intentions (Bukhari and Muslim). He also taught that what a person spends on their family, seeking Allah's pleasure, is counted as charity for them (Bukhari and Muslim), and that even a smile at your brother or sister is sadaqah (Tirmidhi).

Think about what that does to an ordinary day. The meal you cook. The nappy you change. The patient answer at 2 a.m. when you have zero patience left. The honest email. The dua you whisper while you're stirring something. None of these is separate from your purpose, if you turn your face toward Allah while doing them.

Now, I don't want to make this sound too tidy. Not everything you do all day is automatically ibadah just because you're a Muslim. Intention matters, and so does doing things in a way Allah has permitted. But the door is wide open. It really is. Your day is not a distraction from your purpose. It can be the place where you live it.

 Before you were born

There's a part of this that moves me every time I think about it. In Surah Al-A'raf, Allah tells us that He took from the children of Adam, from their backs, their descendants, and made them bear witness over themselves: "Am I not your Lord?"They said, "Yes, we testify" (7:172).

Scholars have understood this in different ways, so I'll keep it simple: the idea is that there is something in us, from the very start, that recognises our Lord. We call it the fitrah.

I think about this when a sister tells me, "I feel like something's missing, but I don't know what." I think about it when I feel that ache myself, in the middle of a day that's going fine on paper. Maybe it's not that something is wrong with us. Maybe it's the fitrah, tugging, saying: *you were made for more than just managing all this.*

I'm not claiming every restless feeling is a spiritual one. Sometimes it's hormones or exhaustion or an actual need for sleep. But I do think we're too quick to fill every gap with something else, another plan, another purchase, another distraction, without ever asking whether what we're really missing is closeness to Allah.

"Allah first" doesn't mean "Allah only"

I need to say this clearly, because I've seen sisters get overwhelmed here and I've been there too.

Putting Allah first doesn't mean neglecting your children. It doesn't mean ignoring your husband, your parents, your work, your health. Actually, being good to those people is part of what He asks of us. The Prophet ﷺ himself was the best to his family.

First is about order. It's about what sits at the centre of the wheel, and what everything else attaches to. When Allah is at the centre, your other responsibilities don't disappear. They get a healthier shape. You give to your family from a fuller place, because you're not expecting them to fill the part of your heart that only Allah can.

I noticed this in my own life. When I was putting people first, I was constantly disappointed. Someone forgot to say thank you. Someone didn't notice how much I'd done. I was quietly *needing* them to give me a sense of worth that they were never able to give. But when I started, slowly and badly, to turn towards Allah for that, the resentment started to soften. Not overnight. It's still a work in progress. But I could feel the difference.

 What happens when the order gets reversed

Allah is honest with us about this too. In Surah Ta-Ha He says, in meaning, that whoever turns away from His remembrance will have a constricted, narrowed life (20:124).

I don't read that as a threat. I read it as an explanation. It describes something I have felt, that heaviness when I've been going through the motions of everything except turning to Him. Life looks full, but it feels tight.

And there's another ayah that stopped me in my tracks. In Surah Al-Hashr, Allah says, in meaning: Do not be like those who forgot Allah, so He made them forget themselves(59:19).

Forgot themselves. I've read that many times and it lands differently every time. When we forget Allah, we lose track of who we are. That may be exactly why so many women feel lost in identity: too many voices telling us who to be, and the one voice that actually knows us, the One who made us, pushed to the side.

And then there's the flip side. "Verily, in the remembrance of Allah do hearts find rest" (Ar-Ra'd 13:28). Rest. Not "get busier and more productive." Rest. When I read that, something in me unclenches.

 What it actually looks like on an ordinary Tuesday

I promised myself I wouldn't write a blog that only gets emotional without giving anything practical. So here's what I've been trying, imperfectly.

The Prophet ﷺ told us that the first thing a servant will be held accountable for on the Day of Judgement is their prayer (Tirmidhi, Nasa'i). I used to treat salah as something I squeezed in between tasks. Now I try to reverse that: my day is built around my salah times, not the other way round. On days it works, everything else feels lighter. On days it doesn't, I notice.

Faraid before the extras. There's a well-known hadith qudsi where Allah says that nothing brings His servant closer to Him than what He has made obligatory (Bukhari). I used to chase extra things, extra adhkar, extra fasts, while being careless with the basics. Now I try to fix the foundation first. If you're only going to change one thing, start there.

 Not a juz, not a big goal. One ayah that I actually read the meaning of, and carry with me. Some days it's the only Qur'an I manage, and I've made peace with that.

Renewing the intention mid-task.

When I'm in the middle of something tedious, cleaning up the same spill for the fifth time, I quietly say, ya Allah, this is for You. Sometimes I mean it deeply. Sometimes I say it through gritted teeth. I think He still hears it.

None of this is fancy. It doesn't look impressive on Instagram. But I can tell you it has changed the feeling of my days more than any productivity system ever did.

 The days I fail

I'm going to be honest, because I don't want you to read this and think I've got a glowing, perfect routine.

Some weeks I miss something. Some days I realise at 9 p.m. that I haven't thought about Allah once, except in passing. Some days I'm short with the people I love and I feel awful about it afterwards.

What I've learnt is that the way I respond to those days matters as much as the days themselves. There's a version of me that spirals: I'm a hypocrite, why am I even trying.And there's a version that turns back. The Qur'an is clear about which one Allah loves. He describes Himself as the One who accepts repentance, and He says that He loves those who constantly turn back to Him (Al-Baqarah 2:222).

Constantly. Not "those who never slip." Those who keep returning. That one word carries a lot of mercy.

So when I fall short, I try to do something simple. Wudu. Two rakah. Tell Him honestly what's going on, even if it's messy. Then begin again from the very next prayer. Allah doesn't burden a soul beyond what it can bear (Al-Baqarah 2:286), and I try to remember that this includes how much I expect from myself.

There's another thing that I couldn't leave out of a blog like this. Understanding why you were created also changes how you look at difficulty.

Allah says that He created death and life to test which of us is best in deeds (Al-Mulk 67:2). So this dunya isn't the place where everything is meant to feel comfortable. It's the place where we're being tested and refined. That doesn't make pain smaller. It makes it meaningful.

The Prophet ﷺ said that the believer's affair is remarkable: if something good happens, they're grateful, and that's good for them; if something hard happens, they're patient, and that's good for them (Muslim).

When I feel overwhelmed, I try to hold onto that. This hard day is not proof that I'm forgotten. It might be the very place where I'm meant to turn to Him. And the Prophet ﷺ also told us to be in this world as if we were a stranger or a traveller (Bukhari). A traveller doesn't unpack and demand that the guesthouse feel like home. A traveller keeps their eyes on where they're going.

That doesn't mean we don't enjoy the blessings Allah gives us. It means we don't confuse the blessing with the destination.

 If you feel far right now

Maybe you're reading this and thinking, this all sounds nice, but I feel so far from Allah.Maybe you haven't prayed properly in a while. Maybe you're carrying shame.

I want to say this gently: the fact that you're reading this, that something in you is still asking the question, is not nothing. Allah says, in a hadith qudsi, that if His servant comes to Him walking, He comes to them running (Bukhari and Muslim). And in the Qur'an, Allah says: "Remember Me, and I will remember you" (Al-Baqarah 2:152).

Notice how that one is phrased. We take one step and He answers with so much more. You don't have to fix everything before you turn back. You just have to turn.

Start with one salah, prayed with presence. Or one dua, in your own words, in your own language. He understands all of them. He knew you before you were born, and He's still waiting for you to come to Him.

 Where we begin

This is why "Allah First" is where our journey in Embracing Femininity starts. We're not beginning with femininity as an idea, or beauty, or even relationships. We're starting with the ground everything else stands on. Because identity built on anything other than our relationship with Allah eventually shifts. And identity built on Him stays.

If you want something to reflect on this week, here are some questions I've been sitting with. You don't have to answer them for anyone. Just be honest with yourself and Allah:

🌷If I'm honest, what has been sitting at the centre of my days?

🌷Where do I keep looking for a sense of worth that only Allah can give me?

🌷What's one small thing I can do, this week, to give Him the first part of my day instead of the leftovers?

And let's make dua together. May Allah make us of those who know why they were created, and who live it, slowly, imperfectly, sincerely. May He forgive our shortcomings, make our hearts rest in His remembrance, and keep us close to Him, always.