I started practicing Islam more, and my parents hated it. I took it so personally, I thought they hated me. They probably did. I still don’t know. Pretty sure now. Yup. They hated me.
I thought it was my duty to help other Muslims understand what they were doing wrong, how to repent, and that it’s all good. Gain knowledge, repent, cease, done! Right? But I didn’t understand the dynamics of the ego. Including my own ego.
I didn’t understand that the ego is so strong and does not want to be opposed. My parents had been Muslim since the late 70’s, so time in versus time spent learning, time in was more relevant. To them, I wouldn’t have ever been Muslim if it weren’t for them. How dare I insult them by correcting them.
My ego said that I was their savior, I was gonna show them the right way, Allah said,
O you who believe! Ward off from yourselves and your families a Fire (Hell) whose fuel is men and stones…66:6
So that’s what I was doing. Panic mode. My parents are old, they’re gonna die! We gotta get all this sorted out RIGHT NOW before I die! Before we ALL DIE! They’ll understand, it’ll be great!
I thought that as long as I was doing it in a nice way, it was fine. Sometimes I wasn’t nice. Either way I was getting cussed out. Fail.
I thought I was doing good, and my parents not talking to me, or only talking to me to argue…or not talking but only shouting…was just the struggle I had to deal with and get through gracefully in order to enter Jannah. Yeah! Fool-proof plan!
In my quest for jannah, I ruined my relationship with my mom. Even listening to music with her and celebrating her birthday hasn’t repaired the damage. She’ll still argue with my on figh issues, alcohol based flavorings, hijab, etc. I don’t bring these things to her anymore. I just wanted us to be ok. Probably wrong to say, but I don’t care anymore if she knows right from wrong, I just want her to be happy with me.
She says she loves me, Alhamdulillah. I feel like a failure though.