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Toronto MU | Life > Experiences

Before You and After You

Aisha Duldul Student Contributor, Toronto Metropolitan University
This article is written by a student writer from the Her Campus at Toronto MU chapter and does not reflect the views of Her Campus.

I thought grief was something I would experience in my thirties. When I was a small girl—honestly, up until my second year of university—I believed none of my family members would ever pass away. 

I come from a large family where everyone is extremely close to one another. When I was in elementary school, I would draw family trees and write small letters for each and every member of my family. I adored them equally as I do now. 

I was one of the youngest children in my family. My uncles, aunties, and cousins were almost double my age. This age gap meant I wouldn’t have time to get to know them all deeply. 

The reality of death never hit me. I always dismissed the idea of living on this earth without them. I cast away any negative thoughts surrounding how their parents or children would miss them deeply or how I would never move on—until it happened to me. 

I never thought I would lose them. But they’re gone, and I can’t do anything about it. 

As a Muslim, I am supposed to look forward to death. Death gives us an opportunity to return back to God, who created me purely from soil. Losing your loved ones would bring you back to the reality that this life is temporary and that everyone will die one day. 

But this reality check only came to me once I went through grief. I never really thought about it before it happened. 

When I was eighteen, my closest family members passed away, both were sudden and unexpected. 

After that, my faith became less a routine and more a refuge. My prayers were more intimate and calming; it was a conversation I looked forward to. It wasn’t like anything I’ve experienced before; it was something that grew inside of me.

When I first lost my uncle and my aunt, I had dreams about them a lot (good dreams, thankfully). I imagined a version of them where they were happy, healthy and free. That’s all I ever wanted from them. 

In an article published by Associate Professor Sameena Azhar at Forham University, she explains that, in Islam, the nature of grief is a private experience—something quiet and personal between the individual and God. A connection that no one else knows about, and no one can judge me. 

Through my own experiences with grief, I began to meet a new version of myself—one that is softer, kinder, reflective, and more patient with pain.

Azhar also mentioned that “death is seen as inevitable” and the final bodily phase of life. This connects back to the Islamic idea that this life is temporary, and we will return to our Creator, and we can’t do anything about it. 

Those dreams reminded me of how temporary life is. How one day, everyone around me will be gone, and the only one who will always be with me is God. 

My idea of death has changed now that I have fully grasped this Islamic teaching. I realize that death isn’t something I should be afraid of; it should be something I should prepare for. That’s something my family members did—they were conscious of the idea that this world is temporary. 

But I know now that grief doesn’t wait for the right time. Islam prepares us so that when it arrives, it reminds us that it’s real. And through losing the people that I loved the most, I fell more in love with my faith, and I don’t fear death as I once did. 

Grief softened me. It taught me to live through every moment with gratitude, remembering my loved ones as I do. 

I’m not scared of death; I’m scared of the people I will lose in the process of it. I see death as a return to the One who was with me all along.

Aisha Duldul

Toronto MU '27

Hi! My name is Aisha Duldul, and I’m a third-year Journalism student at Toronto Metropolitan University. As someone who has always been passionate about storytelling, I love diving into stories that connect people, spark meaningful conversations, and shed light on underrepresented perspectives. My time in journalism so far has allowed me to grow both in the classroom and in the field, where I’ve developed skills in reporting, editing, and feature writing.

Beyond my studies, I’m actively involved in the media landscape. I am currently a Journalism Fellow with Inkspire, and I contribute regularly to a variety of publications including CanCulture Magazine, New Wave Magazine, The Eyeopener, and now Her Campus. Writing for these outlets has given me the opportunity to explore a wide range of topics, from politics and entertainment to issues of race, religion, and women’s rights. Each experience has helped me strengthen my voice as a journalist while encouraging me to tell stories that resonate with diverse audiences.

When I’m not chasing stories or editing drafts, you can usually find me curled up with a book or brainstorming new designs for my henna business. I’m incredibly excited to be part of the Her Campus community, where I can continue growing as a writer, connect with other talented contributors, and share stories that inspire, empower, and spark conversation.