http://linktr.ee/therapy.with.samira

ALAM Psychotherapy & Consulting, Virtual, Toronto, ON (2025)

12/06/2025

Some days your heart feels heavier than your body can hold.

You try to stay strong, but inside you feel tired, stretched, or afraid of breaking.

Allah tells us about Yaʿqūb عليه السلام, that “grief turned his eyes white” (Qur’an 12:84).

His sorrow was so deep it changed his body.
And yet, Allah honored him.

Allah never told يعقوب عليه السلام to stop grieving.
He only reminded him that He is near.

His grief was never seen as weak.
Never viewed as a lack of إِيمَان.

Your sadness is not a failure of faith.
Your tears do not mean you are doing life wrong.
Your grief is a sign that you cared, that you loved, that something mattered to you.

In trauma-informed therapy, we talk about how the body holds sadness like weight.

It shows up as chest tightness, exhaustion, worry, or emotional slow-downs.

These responses aren’t signs of a weak soul.
They’re signs that your nervous system is trying to help you make sense of loss.

And our tradition reflects that truth.

Yaʿqūb عليه السلام grieved.
Maryam عليها السلام cried alone under a palm tree.
Musa عليه السلام felt fear when he fled.

These are some of the most beloved servants of Allah.

Your emotions do not take you away from Allah.
Often, they bring you closer.

Grief becomes lighter when you stop judging it and start letting it move.

Like, comment, and share with someone who needs to hear this.

Follow .with.samira for more.

To work 1-1 with me in therapy, book through the link in bio.

If this hit home, you’ll love my newsletter.
Comment ‘MORE’ to get the link.

— With gratitude,
Samira

12/05/2025

Lately your heart feels tired in a way that even rest can’t reach.

Your body holds stress you can’t explain.
Your mind feels pulled in a hundred directions.
And you keep wondering why something as simple as reciting the Qur’an brings you a calm that nothing else can.

Here’s the truth most of us were never taught.

There is a science behind your sakīnah.

When you recite the Qur’an slowly, your vagus nerve becomes activated.

This nerve is your body’s built-in regulation system.

It shifts you out of survival mode and into safety, sending signals of calm to your heart, your breath, and your muscles.

The drawn-out vowels, rhythmic tone, tajwīd rules, and gentle vibration in your chest all work together to soothe your nervous system.

Even modern research shows that slow vocal vibration lowers cortisol, improves emotional regulation, and increases parasympathetic (calming) activity.

And our dīn taught this long before science did.

Remember how Allah describes the Qur’an as shifā’ and rahmah.
Healing and mercy.
Not just for your soul, but for your body.

Your body’s responses are not spiritual failures.
They are signals.

This is why even imperfect recitation carries healing.
You don’t need perfect tajwīd.
You don’t need a beautiful voice.
You just need presence.

Your nervous system responds to sincerity, rhythm, and breath, not perfection.

Your healing doesn’t have to be complicated.

Pick up the Qur’an.
Recite slowly.

Let your body feel the mercy in every āyah.

If this resonated, I created something for you.
A free grounding guide through a trauma-informed and faith-integrated lens to help you settle your nervous system and return to calm with Allah’s remembrance.
Comment “guide” below and I’ll send it to you.

Follow .with.samira for more.

To work 1-1 with me in therapy, book through the link in bio.

— With gratitude,
Samira

12/05/2025

Lately your heart feels tired in a way that even rest can’t reach.

Your body holds stress you can’t explain.
Your mind feels pulled in a hundred directions.

And you keep wondering why something as simple as reciting the Qur’an brings you a calm that nothing else can.

Here’s the truth most of us were never taught.

There is a science behind your tranquility.

When you recite the Qur’an slowly, your vagus nerve becomes activated.

This nerve is your body’s built-in regulation system.

It shifts you out of survival mode and into safety, sending signals of calm to your heart, your breath, and your muscles.

The drawn-out vowels, rhythmic tone, tajwīd rules, and gentle vibration in your chest all work together to soothe your nervous system.

Even modern research shows that slow vocal vibration lowers cortisol, improves emotional regulation, and increases parasympathetic (calming) activity.

And our dīn taught this long before science did.

Remember how Allah describes the Qur’an as shifā’ and rahmah.

Healing and mercy.

Not just for your soul, but for your body.

Your body’s responses are not spiritual failures.
They are signals.

This is why even imperfect recitation carries healing.

You don’t need perfect tajwīd.
You don’t need a beautiful voice.
You just need presence.

Your nervous system responds to sincerity, rhythm, and breath, not perfection.

Your healing doesn’t have to be complicated.

Pick up the Qur’an.
Recite slowly.
Let your body feel the mercy from every āyah.

If this resonated, I created something for you.
A free grounding guide through a trauma-informed and faith-integrated lens to help you settle your nervous system and return to calm with Allah’s remembrance.

Comment “GUIDE” below and I’ll send it to you.

Follow .with.samira for more.

To work 1-1 with me in therapy, book through the link in bio.

— With gratitude,
Samira

12/04/2025

You don’t need to pretend you’re okay to have tawakkul.

Sometimes your chest feels tight, your heart trembles, and your mind won’t settle.

That doesn’t mean you’ve failed in trusting Allah.

Tawakkul is not emotional suppression.

It is not silencing your pain or forcing yourself into toxic positivity.

Prophet Ya‘qub عليه السلام cried for years after losing his son Yusuf السلام ‎عليه, yet the Qur’an describes him as someone who practiced sabrun jameel… a beautiful patience (Qur’an 12:18).

His tears were real and so was his trust in Allah.

When your body feels shaky, it doesn’t mean your īmān is weak.

It means your nervous system is asking for safety.

Tawakkul means:
• Allowing yourself to feel.
• Taking the steps within your control.
• Then handing over your trembling heart to the One who holds it.

Here’s a gentle practice:
Place your hand over your chest, inhale deeply, and on the exhale whisper: hasbunAllahu wa ni‘mal wakeel (حَسْبُنَا اللَّهُ وَنِعْمَ الْوَكِيلُ).

Tawakkul is giving safety to your soul by remembering Allah.

And whoever relies upon Allah then He is sufficient for him (Qur’an 65:3).

Remind yourself you don’t need to hold it all alone.

You have Allah.

And He is Al-Wakeel, the Best Guardian.

Follow .with.samira for more.

To work 1-1 with me in therapy, book your free consultation through the link in bio.

If this hit home, you’ll love my newsletter. Comment ‘more’ to get the link.

— With gratitude,
Samira

12/04/2025

You might be feeling confused, tired, or quietly grieving a shift you didn’t choose.

A friendship changed, a relationship ended, a door closed… and part of your heart is asking why it had to happen this way.

When something ends, your nervous system often reacts before your mind understands what happened.
You might feel tightness in your chest, heaviness in your stomach, or a sense of danger even when you’re not actually unsafe.

This is your body remembering old losses, not necessarily responding to the present moment.

In trauma-informed therapy, we talk about how the body links endings with threat, abandonment, or fear based on past experiences.

So your first reaction is not proof that something bad happened, it is a survival response from an older version of you who once felt unprotected.

Our tradition honours this truth.

Think about the story of Hājar عليها السلام when she was left in the desert with her infant son Ismā‘īl.

From the outside, it looked like an ending.
It looked like abandonment.

Yet Allah was not distancing her from goodness.

He was moving her toward a new beginning she couldn’t see.

The spring of Zamzam came in a moment of fear, not comfort.

Her ending was actually Allah returning her to strength she didn’t know she carried.

Sometimes Allah closes a chapter because staying in that chapter would pull you away from yourself.

Sometimes He removes what distracts you so you can hear your own heart again.

Sometimes He returns you to solitude so He can return you to Him.

Your ending is not a punishment.

It might be protection.
It might be redirection.
It might be a return.

To work 1-1 with me in therapy, book through the link in bio.

Follow .with.samira for more.

If this hit home, you’ll love my newsletter. Comment ‘MORE’ to get the link.

— With gratitude,
Samira

12/03/2025

Feeling like a burden can make your chest feel tight, your throat heavy, and your mind tense with quiet shame.

You tell yourself to hold it together because you don’t want to trouble anyone.

You hide your pain, not because you want to, but because your body learned that being “too much” is unsafe.

But here’s the truth your nervous system never learned.

Allah never asked you to carry what breaks you alone.

In the Qur’an, when Maryam عليه السلام felt overwhelmed under the palm tree, she cried out in distress.

She didn’t hide her pain.
She didn’t pretend to be strong.
Allah responded with comfort, provision, and reassurance.

Her moment of distress wasn’t a failure.
It was an opening.

Trauma teaches you to hold everything in.
Faith teaches you to bring everything to Allah.

Your body’s stress responses are not signs of weakness.

They are signals.

Tight chest means your system is bracing for danger.
Shaking means your body is releasing what hurt you.
Exhaustion means you’ve been carrying more than you were meant to.

Turning to Allah with that weight is not a burden.

It is worship.
It is tawakkul.
It is nervous system regulation through surrender.

Try this simple practice today:
Place your hand on your chest, inhale slowly through your nose, and quietly say,
Ya Allah, You know the heaviness I can’t put into words.
Guide me.
Help me.
Strengthen me.

Let your body soften as you breathe out.

Let your heart remember that the One who sees you is never tired of you.

Your pain is safe with Allah.
You are never too much for Him.

Like, comment, and share with someone who needs to hear this.

Follow .with.samira for more.

To work 1-1 with me in therapy, book through the link in bio.

If this hit home, you’ll love my newsletter. Comment ‘more’ to get the link.

— With gratitude,
Samira

12/02/2025

You feel scared when your body shakes, and a quiet part of you wonders if it means your īmān is slipping.

This fear sits heavy.
It makes you feel ashamed of reactions you can’t control.

But the truth is gentler than what your mind tells you.

Your anxiety isn’t low īmān.
It’s your nervous system remembering old danger.
Allah knows the story behind the shaking.

In trauma-informed therapy, we talk about how the body stores experiences it has not yet felt safe enough to process.

The trembling you feel, the tight chest, the racing heart, the sudden panic… these are not spiritual failures. They are survival responses.

Your nervous system is doing exactly what it was designed to do.

Protect you.
Alert you.
Signal that something feels familiar to an old wound.

And in Islam, your emotions are never hidden from Allah.

In Sūrat Tāhā (20:67), Allah tells us:
“Mūsā felt a fear within himself.”

This happened after the magicians threw their ropes and staffs, and they appeared to him as snakes. His body reacted instantly. He felt fear.

Not because he had weak īmān.
Not because he doubted Allah.
But because the nervous system responds to threat before the mind can think.

And then Allah said to him:
“Do not fear. You are the superior.” (20:68)

Allah acknowledged his fear and reassured him with protection.

Fear did not cancel his tawakkul.
Fear did not make him less beloved.
Fear did not mean he lacked trust.

Your shaking does not distance you from Allah.
Your fear does not make you less worthy.
Your body’s reaction does not erase your faith.

Your nervous system remembers the danger.
Allah remembers the entire story.

You are not failing.
You are healing.

Like, comment, and share with someone who needs this reminder.

Follow .with.samira for more.

To work 1-1 with me in therapy, book through the link in bio.

If this hit home, you’ll love my newsletter. Comment ‘more’ to get the link.

— With gratitude,
Samira

12/01/2025

Some days your heart feels heavy in a way you can’t explain.

You’re trying to trust Allah, but part of you feels tired, stretched, or quietly overwhelmed.

You’re not alone in that feeling.

Allah told the mother of Mūsā, “Do not fear and do not grieve,” as reassurance.

It was a divine promise that what felt unbearable to her was fully known to Him.

The Qur’an itself tells us she did feel fear and sorrow. In verse 28:10, Allah says her heart “became empty.”

Ibn Kathīr in his tafsir explains this:
“Her heart became empty of everything except her worry for Mūsā. She was overwhelmed with fear and grief, and was about to expose the matter had Allah not strengthened her heart.”

This tells us something important:

Feeling fear does not mean you lack faith.
Feeling grief does not mean you failed.
Deep emotion does not cancel trust in Allah.

In trauma-informed therapy, we talk about how the body responds to stress or uncertainty.

These responses aren’t flaws.
They are survival signals.
They tell us we’re carrying something heavy and we need support.

And spiritually, our tradition honours this reality.
So many of Allah’s beloved servants felt fear, sadness, and pain.

Yet they were still held, guided, and protected.

Trusting Allah does not mean pretending you’re okay.

It means turning toward Him even when your heart feels fragile.

If you’re navigating a difficult moment right now, try these gentle practices:

• Pause and breathe slowly, letting your body settle.
• Name what you’re feeling without judging it.
• Make a simple duʿā’ like “Yā Allah, make this easy for me.”
• Remind yourself that Allah sees the part of your struggle no one else sees.

You’re not asked to be unbreakable.

You’re asked to remember that Allah is near, especially when things feel heavy.

Follow .with.samira for more.

To work 1-1 with me in therapy, book through the link in bio.

If this hit home, you’ll love my newsletter. Comment ‘more’ to get the link.

Which reminder did your heart need today?

With gratitude,
Samira

11/30/2025

You might be feeling that heaviness in your chest today.

The kind that comes from trying to be the perfect Muslim, the perfect son or daughter, the perfect friend, the perfect sibling, the perfect everything.

So many of us grow up thinking Allah only accepts us if we never fall, never struggle, never slow down.

But Allah never asked you for perfection.
He asked you for sincerity.

“Your chest hurts when you hold yourself to standards Allah never set.”

When you push yourself from fear, shame, or pressure…
When you measure your worth through flawless performance…
When you believe Allah will only love you if you erase your own needs…

That pressure is not from Him.

In trauma therapy, we call this “protective over-functioning.”

Perfectionism often comes from old survival patterns, not from faith.

Your body learned to survive by overdoing, overgiving, and overstretching.

And sometimes, we accidentally apply that same pressure to our relationship with Allah.

But Allah tells us that He is with the sincere, the striving, the returning. Not the perfect.

You don’t need to perform to be accepted.
You don’t need to erase yourself to be loved.
You don’t need to burn out to be rewarded.

Instead of perfection, choose consistency.
Instead of pressure, choose presence.
Instead of fear, choose sincerity.

Worship is meant to bring you closer to Allah, not to break you.

Follow .with.samira for more.

To work 1-1 with me in therapy, book through the link in bio.

If this hit home, you’ll love my newsletter. Comment ‘more’ to get the link.

Where do you feel pressure the most… your worship, your relationships, or your expectations of yourself?

With gratitude,
Samira

11/29/2025

You’re holding so much right now.

Maybe your chest feels tight, your breath getting shallow, your mind jumping to every worst-case scenario.

That is your nervous system trying to protect you from a loss that hasn’t even happened.

This happens when the body forgets what the soul knows…

that what Allah has written for you cannot slip away.

Your breath shortens because your body is preparing for danger.

But spiritual truth invites you to soften into safety.

A gentle reminder from our tradition.

When the mother of Musa عليه السلام placed him in the river, Allah tells us her heart became empty.

She almost revealed the truth out of grief and fear, if Allah had not strengthened her heart and made her steadfast 28:10.

And later, Allah returned Musa to her so her eyes would be comforted and she would not grieve (28:13).

Her fear was real, but the protection was already written.

A simple somatic practice to settle your body when fear rises:
• Inhale for 4 seconds
• Hold for 2 seconds
• Slowly exhale for 6 seconds
• Say: Hasbunallahu wa niʿma al-wakīl.

Repeat this until your breath becomes softer and your mind loosens its grip.

And remember, Allah is Al-Ḥafīẓ, the One who protects and preserves what is yours long before you ever fear losing it.

Faith doesn’t erase fear.

It simply reminds the heart that divine protection is not fragile.

You are not losing anything Allah has preserved for you.
You are not fighting alone.
You are and have always been, protected.

Like, comment, and share with someone who needs to hear this.

Follow .with.samira for more.

To work 1-1 with me in therapy, book through the link in bio.

If this hit home, you’ll love my newsletter.
Comment ‘more’ to get the link.

Which part did your heart need today?

With gratitude,
Samira

11/28/2025

You know that heavy feeling in your chest.

That quiet sinking that shows up when you’re in a place, a relationship, or a pattern that your heart no longer feels safe in.

That feeling is not a flaw.
It is a signal.

Your nervous system speaks in sensations long before your mind forms words. And when safety fades, your body tries to tell you the truth.

This is why in trauma-informed work we pay attention to:
• heaviness
• tightness
• shrinking or shutting down
• that urge to flee or fawn

These are cues that your system is overwhelmed or not being honoured.

In the Qur’an, Allah never asks you to silence these signals.

He never asks you to betray your own soul.

Allah reminds us in the story of Hājar عليها السَّلام. She trusted her body’s signals enough to run between Ṣafā and Marwah again and again searching for safety, water, stability.

She moved because something inside her said keep going.

And Allah honoured her movement.

Your body’s truth is not against your faith.
Your need for emotional safety is not weakness.
Your longing for peace is not ingratitude.

Sometimes the hardest part is giving yourself permission to stop forcing what is hurting you.

Trauma makes you believe staying is safer than leaving. But healing invites you into honesty.

A gentle practice for today:
• Place your hand on your heart and ask softly
• What part of me feels unsafe right now
• What boundary do I need
• What truth have I been swallowing

Listen without judgement.
Your nervous system responds to kindness.

Allah does not burden a soul beyond what it can bear.
He does not ask you to abandon yourself.

He calls you toward wholeness, dignity, calm, and truth.

Follow .with.samira for more.

To work 1-1 with me in therapy, book through the link in bio.

Like, comment, and share.

If this hit home, you’ll love my newsletter. Comment “more” to get the link.

Can you relate? What part of this spoke to your heart the most

With gratitude,
Samira

11/27/2025

You’re carrying a sadness today that feels heavy in your chest.

And a part of you wonders if Allah notices… if it matters… if the weight is even seen.

In the Qur’an, Allah speaks directly to Prophet Muḥammad ﷺ and says:
“Perhaps you would destroy yourself in grief over them…” 18:6

A reminder that even the sorrow buried inside a Prophet’s ‎ﷺ heart was witnessed by Allah.

And if a Prophet’s ‎ﷺ grief was seen, then your grief is never invisible.

Trauma often teaches your nervous system to hide pain. To swallow emotions.
To keep going even when you feel like breaking.

But Allah never asks you to pretend strength.
Your Lord meets you in truth.

A simple somatic practice you can try:
Place your hand on your chest
Slow your breath
And allow yourself to name your sadness without judgment

Name what you feel with honesty.

Just like acknowledging a wound lets it heal.

Acknowledging your feelings lets your nervous system settle.

When you name your emotion, your body softens.
The nervous system loosens its grip.
The heart stops fighting itself.

This gentle awareness is a healing act, not a weakness.

The Prophets were not emotionally numb.
They felt deeply.
They grieved.

And Allah honored every tear, every tight chest, every moment of overwhelm.

Prophet Ya‘qūb عليه السلام cried until his eyes turned white.

Maryam عليها السلام felt overwhelmed under the palm tree and wished for death.

Prophet Mūsā عليه السلام felt fear tightening inside his chest.

None of them were dismissed by Allah.

Your sadness is never hidden from Allah.
And it is never a sign of weak īmān.

Sometimes it’s simply the human heart asking to be noticed, to be witnessed. And the heart saying, I need compassion today.

Can you relate to this today?

Like, comment, and share with someone who needs this reminder.

Follow .with.samira for more.

To work 1-1 with me in therapy, book through the link in bio.

If this hit home, you’ll love my newsletter. Comment ‘MORE’ to get the link.

With gratitude,
Samira

ALAM Psychotherapy & Consulting

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