What Nobody Tells You About Muslim Marriage
Our first year nearly ended because of the mahr amount. What saved us was an imam who understood listening instead of lecturing.
It sounds absurd. It was absurd. But the the mahr amount was never really about logistics.
Noor's father-in-law had a expectation about morning routines. When we married, the expectation was that I would prioritise their family. When I did things differently, things went cold.
What saved us was an imam who understood marriage counselling. He made us list every unspoken expectation. Noor's list was 13 items long. Mine was 15. We'd married each other but expected to live in our parents' marriages.
The Quran says spouses are garments for one another — they cover, protect, and complement. We weren't garments. We were two strangers sharing a wardrobe.
It took a year of honest, painful conversations. Of learning that compromise doesn't mean surrender. Of understanding that my Somali traditions and Egyptian traditions could coexist in the same kitchen.
We've been married 11 years now. We alternate Eids between families. We still disagree about whose mother's cooking is better. But we do the dishes together.
Nobody tells you that marriage isn't about finding the right person. It's about becoming the right person. Every single day. Over and over. With patience, with prayer, and occasionally with raised voices that eventually soften into laughter.