Summary
Before psychology gave us the language to analyse our parents, many of them simply carried on. Reflect on the tension between recognising genuine harm and remembering the sacrifices, limitations, resilience and faith of those who raised us. Islam does not ask us to ignore our parents’ shortcomings, but teaches us to approach them with humility and gratitude, remembering that some of the shoulders we now stand upon were theirs.
Before psychology Diagnosed Our Parents
There is something about the way we have learnt to speak about our parents that has been troubling me.
We have become much better at identifying what they did not give us...
We have a vocabulary for the conversations they did not know how to have, the affection they struggled to express, the mistakes they made and, increasingly, the “trauma” we believe they left behind.
Some of that language has undoubtedly helped people understand genuine harm, and Islam does not ask us to deny abuse, injustice or the consequences of either.
But I wonder whether, somewhere along the way, we have learnt to analyse our parents without learning equally well how to understand them.
Many of our fathers were not particularly articulate with their emotions. They may never have told us everything we wanted to hear. But many of them woke each morning carrying responsibilities they rarely spoke about. They worked, endured, worried quietly and returned the next day to do it again... Alhamdulillah.
Many never accumulated wealth, yet somehow worked hard to ensure that we did not experience ourselves as poor...
And our mothers, Allah bless them, often carried an entirely different load. They stretched limited resources, raised children, maintained homes, supported their husbands and families, and continued because there was work that needed to be done...
There was often no language of “processing”, no scheduled time for self-care and sometimes they received very little acknowledgement, if any. Yet they carried on... Alhamdulillah.
They were not perfect people. But Neither are we...
What they often possessed, however, was faith, resilience, sacrifice, a remarkable work ethic and a certainty that their children should have opportunities they themselves never had.
Perhaps this is one reason the Qur'an teaches us to look backwards before it teaches us how to respond to our parents in old age:
﴿وَقُل رَّبِّ ارْحَمْهُمَا كَمَا رَبَّيَانِي صَغِيرًا﴾
“And say: My Lord, have mercy upon them, as they raised me when I was small.”
(al-Isrā' 17:24)
The verse directs our attention to what preceded our independence: years of tarbiyah, care and responsibility that we were too young to remember properly, let alone appreciate.
The Messenger of Allah ﷺ was once asked who was most deserving of a person's good companionship. He replied, “Your mother.” When asked who came next, he again said, “Your mother,” and then once more, “Your mother,” before saying, “Your father.”
Our tradition does not teach us that parents are beyond criticism. It teaches us not to allow their shortcomings to erase their station.
Modern psychology itself contains voices warning against turning every difficult experience into pathology...
There is a difference between understanding our past so that we can become healthier people and constructing an identity in which every imperfection in our adulthood requires an explanation from our childhood.
Perhaps some of us do see further than our parents did! But, we had access to education they did not have, language they did not possess, opportunities they could not imagine and knowledge about parenting, relationships and emotional wellbeing that was simply unavailable to them!
And if we feel we can see further them, we should have the humility to ask what elevated us to that vantage point.
For many of us, it was their shoulders. Yes, we can see what's on the other side of the wall only because we're standing on their shoulders...
Their sacrifices paid for some of the opportunities through which we later learnt to critique them.
We should certainly learn from their mistakes. We should give our children what we genuinely believe was missing from our own upbringing. And where there has been real harm, it should be acknowledged and addressed properly.
But healing should make us more just, not less grateful.
Our parents may not have known the words we now know, but perhaps we should also remember the things they knew how to do without words.
Your brother
Sajid Umar
Location: 'somewhere en route to the hereafter'
25/03/1448 (AH) - 07/09/2026