Feeling Stuck at Home?
Let’s Find Your Hidden Purpose Together.
From the time I graduated, to when we moved to the UAE 13 years later, all I really knew was work. I’d worked my way to the top of my nursing career, got married, and had a young family. At one point, I had four kids under the age of seven.
So life was full—work, home, survival mode.
There wasn’t any space to think about me.
I didn’t even know what I liked anymore.
The books i read were more Julia Donaldson than John Grisham.
The shows i watched were more Balamory than anything remotely grown-up.
When we moved to the UAE, I decided to take a career break. My youngest was two, my husband could manage, and honestly—I was tired.
At first, it felt good. A slower pace, time with my little one, settling into a new country. But then she started school… and I felt lost.
I’d never not worked. Suddenly, I had seven hours a day to myself and no idea what to do with them. I tried the coffees and breakfasts out with friends, but still felt something was missing. I did a TEFL course, taught English for a bit—but something still felt… off.
We can get so consumed by how we think we should be living—ticking boxes, staying busy, meeting expectations—that we don’t even realise how exhausted and resentful we’ve become. And then we convince ourselves there’s no way out, because slowing down feels like giving up. But deep down, something aches for more.
Islam teaches us something powerful:
“Be moderate in your pace.” (Qur’an 31:19)
That verse reminded me that it’s okay to pause. That the journey back to authenticity doesn’t have to look perfect—it just has to be real and can take time.
For me, that turning point came with the Qur’an.
Deep down, I knew it was important to review the Hifdh I had memorised as a 15-year-old. So I found a class at the masjid across the road and thought—why not? That one small step led to two years of hifdh review and tajweed—and it completely shifted something in me.
But it wasn’t easy. I wasn’t just revisiting familiar verses—I was relearning so much from scratch. I’d memorised the Qur’an, but I’d never learned tajweed properly. So I wasn’t just reviewing—I was rebuilding. And it was tough.
I stumbled over surahs I used to know by heart. I cried out of frustration. There were days I wanted to quit. It was humbling to realise how much I’d forgotten or never fully grasped in the first place. But that struggle—quiet, unseen, between me and Allah—became the most authentic part of my life. It wasn’t about achievement or recognition. It was about truth. It gave me space to breathe, to reconnect, to grow.
And most importantly—it gave me space to reflect.
After that, I started asking myself questions I’d never really had time for: ( you can ask yourself these too)
What actually brings me joy?
What do I naturally love doing?
What kind of life do I want now—not just for everyone else, but for me too?
Where do I feel most like myself?
What would a meaningful day look like?
Those questions helped me slowly piece together a new sense of purpose.
And right now, mine looks like this:
To grow in faith and help others do the same
To create space for emotional and spiritual healing—for myself and others
To teach in a way that feels heartfelt and real
To do work that lights me up—whether that’s through the Qur’an, writing, food, nature, or deep conversations
To live with more intention and joy
To leave something behind that feels true and lasting
“But purpose doesn’t look the same for everyone.
It doesn’t have to be big or dramatic or even super clear, it can be quiet.
Unfolding slowly, changing with the seasons of your life.”
Here are just a few ways it can look:
Cooking meals that nourish not just bodies, but hearts and memories
Listening deeply when someone needs to talk, even if your own day is heavy
Being the friend who remembers, checks in, and shows up
Leading quietly—through WhatsApp groups, community events, or school boards
Giving your time to others without applause, because it matters
Building something slow and meaningful—an online shop, a blog, a service
Writing your story, even if it’s just in journal entries and notes for now
Making art that no one may see yet, but still gives you life
Turning your kitchen into a place of creativity, generosity, and joy
Living this season with intention—not rushing to the next, just honouring this one
I really wish someone had told me earlier in life how important it is to explore and incorporate your purpose into your everyday life. It’s so easy to get consumed by everything else—the work, the to-do lists, the responsibilities—and forget about you. But finding your purpose, no matter how big or small it seems, gives life so much more meaning.
And here’s the key: your purpose has to be personal to you.
“Stop looking around at what everyone else is doing, especially on social media. It’s so easy to get caught up in comparison, but remember—your purpose is unique to your life, your experiences, your values. "
You need to learn how to listen to yourself, to tune into what you really want and what feels right for you.
Your purpose doesn’t have to be tied to whether you’re working outside the home, working from home, or staying at home with your family. It can show up in any role, in any season of life.
There’s no “right” way to live your purpose.
And if you’re in a season where you feel unsure—you’re not behind.
You’re just evolving.
