By Aisha
A revert of sixteen years with Scottish and Kenyan heritage who grew up in the UK and is now based in Oman.
Christmas had always been my favourite time of year growing up. For our family, it was a season filled with warmth and togetherness: Christmas stockings hung on the fireplace, cookies and milk, presents wrapped in glittery paper, holiday movies playing in the background, and an unspoken understanding that during this period, we made time for the people we loved most. Although my family wasn’t particularly religious, Christmas was still “family time,” a bubble of comfort in the cold British winter.
When I embraced Islam in my teenage years, Alhamdulillah, my heart felt full in a way I had never experienced before. But alongside this new spiritual fulfillment came a painful shift: my family’s reaction was not what I hoped for. They were disappointed, ashamed, and confused. To them, my decision felt like a rejection of everything familiar. When I gently told them that I no longer celebrated Christmas or Easter, their discomfort turned into defensiveness. They feared I had “gone to extremes.” I tried to reassure them and explain the Islamic perspective with kindness, but the gap between us felt wider than ever.
It can be incredibly lonely when the people who raised you suddenly see you as someone unrecognisable.
Yet, despite the tension and sadness, I realised something essential early on: maintaining family ties (silat ar-rahim) is a deeply rooted principle in Islam. And as a revert navigating two worlds, sometimes balance becomes not only a choice but a necessity.
I decided that while I could not partake in Christmas as a religious celebration, I could still see my family. I would visit them with a clear intention, not to celebrate Christmas, but to honour the rare opportunity of having everyone together in one place. I brought my halal or vegetarian dishes, joined in the cooking, and sat by the fire soaking in the warmth of their presence without engaging in the religious symbolism.
This approach allowed us to preserve our connection without compromising my faith. Over time, something beautiful happened: they began to understand Islam more. They realised I hadn’t abandoned them or turned into the “extremist” they feared, but rather, I had found peace and was simply trying to remain true to it. Their hearts softened, and our relationship slowly healed.
But this is not the experience for every revert.
The Hidden Winter of a Revert’s Heart
For many reverts, the Christmas season is not warm or joyful. It can feel isolating, painful, and deeply conflicting.
Some of us are cut off by our families entirely.
Some are tolerated but never fully accepted.
Some sit alone while the rest of the world seems wrapped in companionship and celebration.
This loneliness is unlike any other, because it is not just about missing an event, but missing people who shaped your earliest memories. It is the ache of watching the world celebrate with its families while yours feels out of reach. And layered on top is the guilt of feeling sadness over something you consciously chose to leave behind for the sake of Allah (SWT).
Reverts learn quickly that the holiday season tests your emotional resilience more than anything else.
Finding Balance Without Losing Yourself
Over sixteen years, I’ve met many reverts who struggle with this time of year: mothers, fathers, teenagers, elders, new Muslims who took their shahadah just days before Christmas, and those who took it decades ago but still carry the emotional weight of December.
A few things become clear:
Wanting to be with your family does not make you less Muslim.
Feeling nostalgic is not a weakness of iman.
Setting boundaries does not mean you love your family any less.
And choosing balance, attending family gatherings with the intention of maintaining ties while avoiding religious participation, is a legitimate and often healthy middle path.
Each revert must navigate their own story, their own sensitivities, and their own family dynamics. It is not simple, and it is never one-size-fits-all.
Where Solace Steps In
This is where organisations like Solace become a lifeline.
Solace understands the unique challenges revert women face, not in theory, but in lived experience. They know that being a revert isn’t just about learning how to pray or fast; it is about managing grief, identity shifts, cultural tension, and emotional wounds that often go unseen.
During the Christmas season especially, Solace offers something many revert women desperately need: A safe space of belonging.
They provide emotional support, practical guidance, financial aid, organise events, and more, all grounded in compassion without judgment.
They remind us that we are not walking this path alone, even if our families do not stand beside us. They help reverts find strength in their faith while navigating the complexities of family life with wisdom and gentleness.
For some sisters, Solace is the only “family” they have left.
For others, Solace helps them rebuild bridges they thought were forever burned.
And for many, Solace becomes that warm light that softens what would otherwise be a very cold season.
A Message to Every Revert This Winter
If you are reading this and feeling lonely, conflicted, or overwhelmed this holiday season, please know this:
You are not strange.
You are not weak.
And you are certainly not alone.
Your journey is valid. Your feelings are valid. Your sacrifices are seen by Allah in ways no one else can recognise.
Lean into community. Lean into support. Lean into the comfort that organisations like Solace offer. And remember that every hardship you face as a revert is written with reward, purification, and divine mercy.
Closing Thoughts
Christmas may no longer be part of my religious life, but the lessons I learned through navigating it as a revert shaped me profoundly. It taught me patience, balance, emotional resilience, and the importance of community. It taught me that while family relationships can be painful, they can also heal through kindness, boundaries, and time.
And above all, it taught me the value of organisations like Solace, places where a revert’s heart is understood without needing explanation.
May Allah (SWT) make this season gentle on every revert, fill our homes with tranquillity, and grant us all the gift of belonging.
Ameen.
