Did you know some of the earliest dedicated hospitals for mental illness were established in the medieval Muslim world? Centuries before mental health became widely recognised in many parts of Europe, Muslim physicians were developing compassionate approaches to caring for people experiencing psychological distress. This legacy reminds us that caring for mental health has long been part of the Islamic tradition.

Our Prophet Muhammad ﷺ embodied this in how he spoke to people. When companions asked him the same question, "What is the best deed?", he did not give one answer. To one he said it was prayer at its proper time; to another, jihad in the path of Allah; to another, kindness to parents; and to another, feeding people and spreading the greeting of peace (Sahih al-Bukhari and Sahih Muslim). The scholars such as Imam al-Nawawi and Ibn Hajar al-Asqalani explain that he ﷺ was a master of spiritual medicine. It seems that he ﷺ  tailored each answer to what that individual most needed to hear in their circumstances, and at that moment. 

Seeking therapy, counselling, support, medication, rest, or lifestyle changes is not a contradiction to faith. It is part of using the means Allah created for healing. Just as we would treat a broken bone or diabetes, emotional suffering also deserves care and compassion.

🌱 Islam offers spiritual practices that beautifully complement psychology and neuroscience — and many can be implemented practically in daily life:

Many Muslims experience doubts in worship:

• “Did I break my wudu?”

• “Did I recite correctly?”

• “Was my salah valid?”

For some people, these doubts become constant and exhausting. They may:

• Repeat wudu multiple times

• Restart prayers

There are days when focusing in prayer feels almost impossible. The mind wanders, the heart feels distant, and the body moves without presence. Many women silently struggle with this.

Allah (the Most Glorified and Most High) reminds us:

“Allah does not burden a soul beyond that it can bear.”

(Surah Al-Baqarah 2:286)

A lot of people worry about finding the right words to say to a friend who’s struggling, but the power of simply holding space is often overlooked. Creating a space where your friend can soften and feel comfortable enough to sit in their truth can be incredibly validating and healing. It reassures them that you’re there for them, allowing them to express their emotions without the pressure of being fixed, judged, or rushed.

There are moments in life when hardship does not simply pass through you—it settles, lingers, and weighs heavily on your heart. In those moments, the questions come quietly at first, then more insistently: Why is this happening to me? What have I done to deserve this? Has Allah turned away from me? It is a deeply human response to pain to try and make sense of it through the lens of fault and consequence. We look inward, searching for something we must have done wrong, or we look upward with a sense of confusion, wondering why we have been chosen for something that feels so heavy and so unbearable.

As Muslim women, we often carry multiple identities simultaneously: daughter, wife, mother, professional, community member—each with its own expectations and emotional weight. This complexity can blur our sense of what “support” actually looks like for us.

“I fear they will deny me, and my chest feels tight, and my tongue is unable to speak without stammering”. Quran 26:12

I love referring to this verse when speaking about anxiety. It’s the words of Musa (peace be upon him) when Allah instructed him to speak to Firawn. In this moment of vulnerability, Musa perfectly describes anxiety and how it manifests itself in the body. He uses the word “fear” showing this is his primary emotion, the word “tight” showing it’s the feeling of anxiety and how he’s experiencing it in his body and the word “unable” showing how this anxiety restricts, overpowers and silences him. A feeling many of us can relate to.

Emotional pain is a universal part of the human journey. Islam does not deny this reality; rather, it dignifies it. The Qur’an and authentic Sunnah preserve the stories of noble women who experienced fear, loneliness, grief, slander, and emotional exhaustion — yet they were never abandoned by Allah.

These women were not honoured because of their pain, but often due to their patience, sincerity, and reliance upon Allah. Their lives remind Muslim women today that emotional struggle does not diminish Iman. Instead, it can become a doorway to divine closeness, healing, and honour.

When the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ received his first revelation in the cave of Hira, he returned home, with the muscles between his neck and shoulders trembling, overwhelmed with fear and uncertainty. In that moment of mental distress, did our beloved Messenger ﷺ retreat into solitude? No. He ﷺ went to family. He ﷺ went to a loved one. He ﷺ rushed to his wife, Khadijah ( رضي الله عنها) and asked her to cover him, seeking the comfort and safety that only family can provide. Our own Prophet ﷺ  showed us the strength it takes to be vulnerable and to confide in your loved ones when we are overwhelmed. He said “O Khadija! What is wrong with me? I was afraid that something bad might happen to me.”  

Growing up, mental health was a topic that was never spoken about. At home, in school, in madrassah and even in the wider community, it was considered a taboo. Many people viewed struggling with your mental health as a sign of weak Iman leaving those that were struggling feeling disconnected to themselves, their faith and most importantly, to Allah.

So, what is mental health? What is spiritual guidance? And is there a connection between the two?