It's almost 100 days since my cousin passed away. Unlike the normal passing of a family member, a neighbor, or someone I know, his passing left a scar that I honestly don't even know when it will heal. There are losses that make us sad because someone we love is no longer here, but there are also losses that leave us with questions, disappointment, anger, and a feeling that something was terribly wrong. His passing somehow became all of those things at once. I still remember how I wrote about it here....
Honestly speaking, since that happened, my mother and I cut off our relationship with the family member whom we believe caused this scar. I know that in Islam, cutting family ties is not something that is encouraged. I know that silaturahmi is important, and I understand that forgiveness is also part of faith. But sometimes I still ask myself, what am I supposed to do when maintaining a relationship means forcing myself to accept something that deeply violates the principles I have believed in since I was a child?
I know that Rasulullah SAW experienced tremendous grief when his uncle Hamzah was killed, and although I am obviously nowhere near his level of patience and character, it reminds me that even the gentlest person can experience deep pain when someone they love is harmed. I am only human, so sometimes I wonder how I am supposed to immediately look at someone the same way after something like this.
Maybe some people will think my principles are too rigid. Maybe I do look self-centered because I tend to distance myself from people when they violate something I strongly believe in. Sometimes I even wonder whether I am too focused on my own perspective because I keep explaining what I believe instead of trying to understand the principles other people live by.
Perhaps someone could even think I am narcissistic, as if I believe the world should work according to what I want. And honestly, I have questioned myself about that too. But I have reached a point where I think it's okay if people don't understand me, as long as I continue to question myself and remain open to the possibility that I could be wrong. There is a difference between saying, "Everyone must live according to my principles," and saying, "These are the principles I choose to live by, and I cannot pretend they don't matter to me."
When other people say, "Your cousin is already gone. What happened has happened. He isn't coming back," I understand what they mean. I know he won't come back. I know that eventually I have to accept his passing and return him to Allah.
If the situation had been different, perhaps I could have accepted it much more easily. If from the beginning we had known that he was sick, if his immediate family had told us, and if everyone had tried to get him proper treatment, then whether he recovered or not would ultimately have been God's decision. I would have said that we had done everything we could, and the rest was in Allah's hands.
But for me, this is not only about his death. It is also about what happened before he died and the feeling that his dignity was not protected by the people who were supposed to protect him.
What hurts me is the feeling that the actions taken shortly before his death were later presented as if they proved that everything had been handled properly. From my perspective, the timing raised questions, especially because it happened after the extended family had already discovered certain things.
To me, it felt less like genuine concern and more like an attempt to protect someone's reputation. Maybe I am wrong. Maybe there are things I don't know. I am willing to admit that. But I also can't simply pretend that I didn't notice what I noticed. I don't know whether being able to sense dishonesty is a blessing or a curse, because once I feel that something doesn't add up, I cannot easily go back to behaving as if everything is normal.
How can I act exactly as I did before when I have seen something that, according to my principles, should not have happened? How can I talk normally, laugh normally, and interact normally when I have witnessed what I believe was dishonesty or a lack of empathy toward someone vulnerable? If I behave as though nothing happened just because everyone else wants things to be normal, does that mean I have no principles? Does it mean I simply follow whichever direction is easier?
Sometimes I even wonder whether doing that would make me feel as though I had betrayed my own cousin. I know that people have their own struggles and reasons for behaving the way they do. Someone who seems cold might be dealing with their own problems. Someone who cannot show empathy might also be carrying a burden I know nothing about. I understand that. But understanding someone's circumstances does not automatically mean I have to agree with their actions.
Every person has principles they live by. In some ways, principles are like software that has been programmed into us over time through our parents, teachers, religion, experiences, mistakes, and our own search for meaning as we grow older. That's why when our principles collide with reality, it can feel like a system error. We see something and immediately think, "This isn't how it is supposed to happen."
But reality doesn't always follow what we believe should happen. Perhaps growing up means learning to accept that while we cannot control reality, we can still decide how we respond to it. We can remain open-minded without abandoning our conscience. We can understand other people's perspectives without automatically accepting their behavior.
This question also appears whenever I write on this blog. I write because I have always been someone who thinks, observes, analyzes, and searches for meaning. Sometimes there are simply too many thoughts inside my head, and writing is the way I let them out. Sometimes I wonder whether writing so much about myself makes me look self-centered.
But if I don't write, where do all those thoughts go? Writing is not me demanding that everyone agree with me. It is simply me saying, "This is how I see things from where I am standing." I am sharing my experiences, my thoughts, and my principles, but that doesn't mean I expect everyone to live like me.
Maybe that is the difference I am still trying to understand: being self-centered means believing that your perspective is the only one that matters, while having principles means knowing what you stand for while still allowing other people to be different.
I don't want my principles to become an excuse for arrogance. I don't want to use "principle" as a way to avoid admitting that I could be wrong. I want to remain humble enough to listen, reflect, and change when necessary. But I don't want humility to mean abandoning everything I believe just to make other people comfortable, either.
So yes, I write all of this because this is me. I write because this is how I process life, grief, family, faith, disappointment, and all the questions that keep running inside my head. I don't write because I believe everyone has to agree with me, and I don't expect everyone to live according to my principles. If there is something good in what I write, please take it as inspiration. If there is something wrong, please take it as a lesson.
This blog is not a must for people about how to live. It is simply a record of one human being trying to understand herself and the world around her. Maybe someday I will change my mind about some of these things. Maybe I will become softer in some areas and firmer in others. And that's okay. Having principles doesn't mean we stop growing. It simply means that while we grow, we remain honest about the values that guide us. 🤍
