Some of us want what we don’t have.
Some of us have everything we ever wanted.
Both of us lie awake wanting.
The wanting doesn’t end when you get what you want.
We just find new things to want.
This is not a you problem.
This is the nafs.
And it has been doing this since the beginning of time.
Restless Nafs Syndrome
I know this feeling. I’ve sat with it long enough to give it a name.
My name is Laylah. It’s a pen name, of course, because each person’s nafs is a battle known only to themselves. And that’s exactly how it should be.
But I found too much worth saying to stay quiet on the topic, and that’s how novels are born, aren’t they? When we’ve lived something deep enough and real enough to want to share it with the world.
Putting it into words is not always easy. For those following my journey, you’ll know it’s been years.
What I can tell you is that the restlessness is real. The wanting is real. And if we ignore the issue, it will not magically go away. The clever nafs will build a very convincing case for burning down everything you spent years building, and it will dress it up in pretty justifications.
I wrote a novel about a woman standing at exactly that edge. Vaguely drawn from real life (because who else’s life have I lived?).