I was not sure how I was going to document my Umrah trip, but Alhamdulillah, here we are. I wanted to do a diary series, but of course, your girl started and never finished. Are you even surprised? For three years now, I have been grooving and floating around. Waiting for a fleeting moment of peace. A moment to myself. Almost like when I went to San Francisco solo in the summer of 2024. But, to my demise, I can’t even compare Saudi Arabia to San Francisco. Don’t get me wrong, San Francisco was great, especially going solo because it carved out a new Diakha, and gave her some confidence. Yet, with Saudi Arabia, I got closer to Allah and tapped into a better Diakha. 

I have been blogging for almost nine years. Most of my blog posts are centered around being a firstborn daughter, marriage, or relationships. Boring topics, but when I wrote them, they were so exciting. There’s something funny about documenting your life and revisiting what you’ve documented. You go back and read or watch what you have documented, and there’s this heavy feeling known as embarrassment. Like, oh my goodness, who is this person? This is me? Yes, that’s you. It has always been you. If it’s not you, then who is it? 

Walk with me. When we document our lives, especially for ourselves and not for others, we see vulnerability and naivety. Although we sense the embarrassment, that feeling disappears when we finally realize, yes, that is us, and changes into something else. Acceptance. Proud. Contentment. Growth. 

You should be able to see growth. You should be able to sense it. When I look back at my blog posts, I always get the same feeling. 19-year-old Diakha would be shocked to know that 28-year-old Diakha has completed Umrah. I am still shocked I even went. 

I went with a heavy heart and my list of duas. A little journal, only five pages of it, was filled with duas (mine and those closest to me). But in the end, the only thing that mattered was what was in my heart. When I landed in Madinah, I could not believe I was in Madinah. After all the YouTube videos I watched to prepare, I was in awe of Madinah’s beauty. My nose had to adjust to the heat because I was not used to it.  I didn’t know anyone on the trip, which made me nervous. Instead of wallowing in my nervousness, I tapped into my counselor side, the talkative woman.

I was nervous completing my first Umrah, but Alhamdulillah, the group I went with made it smooth. I wore my favorite pink abaya and my new black Khimar. I decided to not wear shoes, but gripped socks (please don’t be like me and do this, wear the new comfy shoes). When we entered the Masjid Al-Haram, I looked down because I did not want to see the Ka’ba just yet. I followed the crowd until we got closer, and then I finally looked up. My eyes widened, and my breathing slowed down. In my entire life, I never thought I would ever see the Ka’ba in person, let alone touch it. From the videos and pictures of the Ka’ba, I stood there in awe and said Alhamdulillah.

I loved performing tawaf. The beauty of tawaf was being surrounded by so many Muslims and everyone saying a heartfelt dua. Don’t get me wrong, it was crowded, and I was not used to being surrounded by so many people at once. But Allah granted me ease in that moment. I didn’t feel anxious like I normally do. I always held onto my group.

I did struggle during the trip. I struggled with the concept of Tawakkul. Growing up, I was always a planner. I planned so many things in my life, and when those plans did not work out, I would, as the kids call it these days, crash out. I would come up with another plan, hoping it would work. In those moments, I never realized that Allah was in control. Not me. I kept reminding myself that Allah is in control, and He knows what’s best. Something did not go my way during the trip, which devastated me. I was so distraught that I thought Allah was angry with me. The whole time, He was granting me His rahma, mercy. When it finally hit me, I smiled in gratitude and understood.

Not to be dramatic, but being in Mecca and Madinah settled my heart. I went with a heavy suitcase of problems and emotions I could not handle. I went with a heart so broken that only Allah could mend it back together. I went with thoughts of defeat and pain. But those eight days, eight days of worship in solitude, in congregation, were what my heart needed so badly. Allah knew what I needed, and He opened that door for me. He is Al-Fattah.

There was a moment when I truly felt Allah’s love for me. I do, in fact, feel His love for me all the time, but this was a special moment between my creator and me, a moment that I feel even months later. It was when I was completing Sa’ee, walking from Safa and Marwa. My last round, the tears just fell as I raised my hands up to make dua. I knew in that moment, I had to come back. But, in order to come back, I definitely needed to go back home. I needed to go back home as a new Diakha, whose heart was settled, and she felt utterly grounded.

When I came back home, I cried. I wanted to go back. I met amazing people, and learned so much. But I knew the true test was how I was going to act moving forward. The true test was whether I had changed for the better. The true test was whether I would go back to my old habits. The true test was whether I would please Allah.

I pray that Allah invites you to His Home. May Allah grant us ease in all of our affairs. May He be pleased with us. Please keep me in your duas (that I stay consistent with blogging!).

Ameen.

Author’s note: As always, thank you for reading!