What Nobody Tells You About Muslim Marriage
Our first year nearly ended because of biryani. What saved us was an imam who understood listening instead of lecturing.
It sounds absurd. It was absurd. But the biryani was never really about preferences.
Mariam's mother-in-law had a weekly family dinner. When we married, the expectation was that I would prioritise their family. When I did things differently, the passive aggression began.
What saved us was an imam who understood marriage counselling. He made us list every unspoken expectation. Mariam's list was 16 items long. Mine was 22. 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 polite acquaintances.
It took two years of honest, painful conversations. Of learning that compromise doesn't mean surrender. Of understanding that my Moroccan traditions and Egyptian traditions could coexist in the same kitchen.
We've been married 5 years now. We alternate Eids between families. We still disagree about the thermostat. 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.