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We asked our audience to share their love stories, tales of chance meetings, intentional steps, and everything in between. What came back was a mosaic of experiences, each unique yet equally exciting. Some spoke of stolen glances that turned into lifetimes together, others of introductions carefully arranged by family, and many of friendships that slowly unfolded into love.

This is our first story.

Please note that these stories are not for giving advice and are about documenting the lives of Muslim women who got married 🧡

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Jamal & Maria

How did you and your husband first meet? 

I was on a gap year, and I was 19. 

It was my primary school friend’s birthday in May, and she really wanted to celebrate it. It was at a club, and I was going to be staying at hers the night after. When we arrived at the club, it was empty because everyone had exams, so there were about 10 of us.

I’ve been fancied by guys for as long as I can remember, and it wasn’t always because of how I look. Sometimes it was because I was good at sports or really smart. So I was hyper aware of male attention, and as a result, was always defensive to protect myself. There were guys in the group, but I kept my distance because with guys, if you give them an inch, they’ll take a yard. 

At the end of the night, we paired off on our way to get the night bus. It was a 10-15 minute walk, and I ended up walking with the guy who would later become my husband, let’s call him Jamal. The first thing I said to him was, “Just to let you know, you’re not getting my number”, and he responded that he wasn’t planning on asking for it. I don’t know where the audacity came from, but I wanted to set the tone that the next 15 minutes were not about us working towards going on a date. 

We ended up having a very good conversation about the deen. Both of us were transparent about not being where we wanted to be, our struggles with wanting to do better but falling short. At this point, I wasn’t really practising; I was slowly phasing into it, like dressing more covered, wearing long sleeves, and praying regularly. And after that night, I probably only went out twice more and then I stopped going clubbing. It came out of my life. 

When we got to the bus stop, I said bye to everyone, and then he said, “Oh, is that it?”. I was like, I told you, you’re not getting my number, and he said, “I’ll find you on Facebook.” When he left, my friends went on about how they think he really liked me, and I was like, “Of course, he does. But that’s not the point here. The point is I’m not interested.” When I arrived home, there was a Facebook request and message from him. I told him again, “I’m sure you’re a really nice guy, but I’m not interested in anything.” 

How many times did you meet in person before marrying?

Over the summer, towards the end of my gap year, we ended up chatting from time to time. And when I started uni in September, he asked to go on a date, and my friends nudged me to go just to see what he was like, pointing out the obvious fact that we’d been speaking since May. We ended up meeting up at a shisha place in Elephant & Castle, but we didn’t call it a date. We grabbed a seat to have a chat, and got on like a house on fire, to the point where we didn’t notice the place emptying up around us or the owner clearing up. It wasn’t until I needed to use the bathroom that I realised the owner had pulled the shutters down and was waiting for us to finish. When I left the bathroom, I remember thinking I didn’t want him to drop me off, but there were no taxis available immediately (pre-Uber times), and he ended up dropping me off at home. 

We carried on talking, but didn’t meet again until December. After that, we continued speaking online, but our conversation fizzled out over time. One Friday in July, I bumped into Jamal at London Bridge station. He asked how things were going, and I updated him that I was finally going to Umrah. He shared that he’d made a lot of changes in his life, too, and hadn’t been clubbing since the weekend after we first met. It was nice to see that, though we met in a club, we were both in better places in our lives by ourselves. 

When I returned from Umrah in September, I dropped off some Zamzam and dates for him, and we kept in touch. We talked more regularly, he got my number on Facebook and gave me a call. This went on through my second year of university. Some time in June, one of my friends asked what the deal was with Jamal, and I said, “He really likes me, but I’m not interested”. She again stated the obvious, that for someone who didn’t have guy friends, I spoke to Jamal a lot, and said, “Perhaps you’re not meeting up with him because you know something will develop if you actually start going on that journey.” That was when the penny dropped. It made sense because why would I still be talking to him, right? I was obviously trying to put up boundaries and keep a distance for a reason. 

Then I went on holiday to Thailand for about three weeks, and I was shocked to notice that every single time I got WiFi, I was trying to talk to him. I was like, “What’s happening here??” I finally accepted there was definitely something there, and it was evident from the nature of the conversations we were having about what his family was like and all of that. 

A couple of weeks after I returned from Thailand, I went to the gym at 10 pm and did a really heavy deadlift, which injured my back. I couldn’t move much. I was home alone, my parents were on holiday, and my siblings were away too. Knowing Jamal was super into sports at the time, I messaged him to tell him what was wrong and asked if he could recommend anything. He called me straight after Fajr to ask more questions, and ended up booking me an appointment with his physiotherapist in East London. Since I couldn’t drive because I was in so much pain, and my friends were all at their jobs, he offered to take me there. We went to physio, he got a full body massage while I was in my session, and I paid for us both as a token of appreciation. Afterwards, he asked if I wanted to grab lunch, so we went to Westfield, Stratford to eat. Then we both needed to pray Asr, but the prayer room in Westfield was closed. We decided we’d pray at our respective homes, but when he dropped me home, it was nearly Maghrib time, and there was no way he’d make it to the mosque without missing Asr. I invited him in to pray, and when we were both finished, we sat on opposite ends of the living room. 

We were both aware there was something there with all the conversations we’d had, and this was our chance to get it all out in the open.

So I said, “I’m not interested in any sort of relationship. If you want me, you have to marry me. That’s as clear as I can be.” And he said, “That’s what I want too.”

We talked about how we always kept up with each other’s achievements, and how we were quite inspired by each other’s lives. When one of us achieved something, it felt like the other person’s own happiness, not in the way of relying on them, but genuinely loving for your brother what you love for yourself. And that’s the day and moment we decided we’ll get married. 

As I was going into my final year of university, I couldn’t tell my parents because they’d think I’d get distracted. He had graduated at this point and was working. I set boundaries such as not seeing each other too often, so we kept talking and only met a few times here and there. After I graduated, I told my family I’d met someone I’d like them to meet. My parents were very shocked; they thought I was too young to get married. My dad, in particular, was really scared it would mean that my ambition would be parked. But what attracted Jamal and me to each other was that we were both very highly ambitious, and we always had a shared interest in championing one another. My parents were quite resistant, but when they met him, they were a lot more lax. Our families met over the summer, and we had our Nikah in November. 

Are you still married to this partner?

Yes. We’ve been married for eleven years this March.

Had you thought about marriage beforehand at any point?

No, because I thought it was something I’d do when I was 30. I would never have expected myself to get married at 22. 

Getting married young has pros and cons. The pro is you’re able to ride your 20s with someone who’s got your back, and you’ve got their back, and sometimes in a way where maybe your parents don’t. You’re able to let go and go for those goals. What’s been really amazing is that both of our careers during our marriage have flourished. Obviously, rizq is from Allah, but it’s no coincidence that we were also married during that period of time. 

I think the con is that you may not have worked on yourself enough or know enough about what it means to be in a partnership, but you can figure it out together. The key is communication. Make sure you’re communicating everything you care about – including your ambitions – and be as clear as possible. But fundamentally, if your partner doesn’t have a good nurturing character, no matter how clear you are, you’ll suffer. 

What was the main thing you were looking for in a spouse?

Someone who has good character and good deen. Jamal is practising, kind, caring, and ambitious. What more could I want? 

I never entered with rose-tinted glasses; I had my guard up, so I was able to see his character for what it was and judge him for who he was as an individual.

Sometimes we can tell ourselves stories about who a person is for us and what they’ll be like in our lives, but it’s also important to really understand them. Like, who is this person? How do they live their life? Do they live up to the words they say? What does their life look like? Also, as we were both marrying young, we were marrying potential. We both had big goals and ambitions, but it was important to me to assess if his character aligned with what he wanted to achieve. 

What are three green flags (good qualities) Muslim women should look out for?

The first, I’d say, is what their relationship with their mother or parents is like. Does it seem good? Even if the person has a strained relationship with their parents, are they doing as much as they can to uphold their tie of kinship? When you become married, you also become a kin, and how they treat their current family is most likely how they’ll treat you. 

Another is: are you inspired by their life? Personally, I want to be with someone who inspires me, in the way they live their life, from their small habits to their big habits, to what they want from life and their intentionality in achieving it. 

A practising Muslim man is another green flag. I mean, holistically practising in a way which brings into account their character. Are they developing their deen and trying to grow in that area? What’s their relationship with the deen?

What are three red flags (concerns) Muslim women should look out for?

How are they actually navigating the courtship? For example, are they talking to you about having a relationship but not really talking about marriage and not setting their intentions? Is everything a bit too hypothetical? Is there no clear timeline? Is this person trying to talk to you because they fancy you or because they want to marry you? 

Another red flag is if he’s trying to get intimate with you or tries to cross boundaries you’ve made clear. I say that because, sometime during my summer job while I was speaking to Jamal, I was working on a project with an organisation, and there was this Muslim guy who started talking to me. We set up a date, and I remember telling Jamal this, and he was like, “The guy’s not as good as me, but go on the date because sometimes you need to see what you’re missing.” So I met this guy, and he was all right. I made it clear that I was not interested in being intimate, yet he tried to kiss me. After that, he said something along the lines of, “When I first met you, I wanted to sleep with you, but then I got to know you and I realised you’re wifey material.”

My last red flag would be if he has no friends, because if a man has no friends, who’s vouching for him? How does he develop the tools needed to be in a relationship? For example, how does he learn to resolve conflicts? When a friend does something that bothers him, how does he communicate? Also, if he has no friends, he would expect more of your time, and you going out with your friends might become an issue. 

What advice would you give a single Muslim woman looking to get married?

Work on yourself, let people know you’re looking for a spouse, make dua for it, and really understand what you want vs what you need. 

Sometimes I am shocked by what some women would list as what they would like in a partner when they should be necessities, like kindness. Nice to haves are: if he’s interested in museums and galleries, for instance. Needs are kindness, regularly praying, practising, and having a good relationship with family.

We whittle these lists down because we’re scared we might not find it, but make a list and know what you need because if you don’t you’ll end up anywhere. 

Also, don’t be scared to ask him what his intentions are or what his timeline is for marriage. A man who runs away because of this question shows you he doesn’t intend to be committed.

The thing you should absolutely be looking at is character. A kind man is a man with good character. Kindness goes very far. Honestly, many men are not kind. They are not kind to their own mothers, they’re not kind to themselves, and they’re not kind to others. It’s a really important trait. 

Lastly, I will say don’t settle.

What are your thoughts on pre-marital counselling?

I didn’t do it, but I would say it’s an absolute must-do. 

A friend of mine, who’s currently going through couples therapy, said to me, “In a relationship, there are six people: you, your partner, his parents and your parents.” So when you’re interacting with someone else, you’re interacting based on their behaviour, their upbringing as a child, and their relationship with their parents. Some people have come from particularly traumatic and tumultuous backgrounds, and without therapy, you end up pouring it all on your partner. 

Do you feel like your perception of love changed before you got married versus after you got married?

It’s interesting because one of the things I said to Jamal in the early stages of our conversation was, “I don’t think I like you, but I think I could get to like you.”

There’s a big obsession with the spark at the first meeting, but I’m a big believer in slow burners. There was no big spark; I made my decision in a very logical way, and I think that’s because although love is important, it’s not the full picture. There are a lot of practicalities to a relationship working out. This is also reflected in our deen, as Allah gives us rights and responsibilities as well as etiquettes for marriage. 

I think my idea of love still stands in a way, because I love for you what you love for yourself. When something good happens for you, I love it for you as if it’s for myself. 

Any Final Advice?

Every man comes with their own struggle; part of it is how men are raised. They’re generally raised in an emotionally stunted way in society and within families, and in ethnic families, it doubles down. After being married for eleven years, seeing friends who’ve gotten divorced, helping friends with their own marital or relationship problems, I’ve realised it all comes down to choosing your struggle, choosing a struggle you’re comfortable with dealing with. Some people might not want a financial struggle, while others might not want to live with a family that’s culturally backwards compared to theirs. 

I think couples therapy helps with understanding the struggle in a person’s life, and deciding if you’re okay with it, because during the courting process, you’re seeing the best version of someone, but who is this person on their darkest days?