Miswak: The Sunnah Science Still Confirms Today
By Nazia Firdous · Sabr And Sukoon · Updated June 2026 · 15 min read
Is forcing yourself to just say Alhamdulillah actually Islamic — or toxic? Discover what the Quran, the Prophet ﷺ, and psychology say about sadness in Islam."Just say Alhamdulillah." "Be grateful — others have it worse." "A true Muslimah doesn't complain." "Make istighfar — maybe your sadness is a sign of weak iman."
If you have ever shared your pain with someone and received one of these responses, you already know what it feels like to have your grief dismissed with a religious ribbon tied around it. It sounds Islamic. It feels spiritual. But something about it leaves you more alone than before you spoke.
That feeling has a name. Psychologists call it Toxic Positivity. And the question this post asks — and answers — is this: Is forcing yourself to feel positive at all times actually what Islam teaches? Or have we confused cultural pressure with divine command?
The answer, as the Quran and the Sunnah of the Prophet ﷺ will show us, is both liberating and deeply beautiful.
Sara lost her mother eight months ago. The grief is still raw — some mornings she wakes up and for one brief second forgets, and then it hits her again like cold water. She cries in the shower. She sits through dinner quietly. She replays old voice notes on her phone just to hear her mother's voice.
But Sara has stopped telling anyone how she feels. Because every time she tries, the same responses come: "She is in a better place, say Alhamdulillah." "You should be grateful for the time you had." "Keep busy and make dua — this sadness will pass."
So Sara learned to perform okayness. She says Alhamdulillah with her mouth while her heart is quietly drowning. She has started to believe that her grief is a failure of faith — that a truly good Muslimah would not still be crying after eight months. That her sadness is evidence of something spiritually wrong with her.
Sara is not spiritually weak. Sara has been given the wrong Islam.
Toxic Positivity is the practice of dismissing, minimising, or invalidating genuine negative emotions — either in yourself or in others — by insisting on an exclusively positive outlook, regardless of the situation.
It is not the same as genuine optimism or gratitude. The difference is critical:
| Parameter | Genuine Gratitude ✓ | Toxic Positivity ✗ |
|---|---|---|
| Acknowledges pain? | Yes — fully and honestly | No — skips over it immediately |
| Response to grief | "This is painful AND I trust Allah" | "Just be positive and move on" |
| Effect on person | Feels heard, held, supported | Feels ashamed, silenced, alone |
| Root | Trust in Allah within reality | Discomfort with negative emotion |
Toxic Positivity often wears religious clothing in Muslim communities. Phrases like "just make shukr," "this is a test, be patient," or "don't question Allah's plan" are not wrong in themselves — but when used to shut down someone's grief rather than sit with it, they become tools of emotional invalidation, not spiritual guidance.
Here is the truth that changes everything: the Quran does not tell us not to feel sad. It tells us that Allah is with us when we do.
Consider the story of Prophet Yaqub (عليه السلام). When his son Yusuf (عليه السلام) was taken from him, Yaqub did not perform positivity. He wept. He grieved so deeply and for so long that the Quran tells us he lost his sight from crying:
وَتَوَلَّىٰ عَنْهُمْ وَقَالَ يَا أَسَفَىٰ عَلَىٰ يُوسُفَ وَابْيَضَّتْ عَيْنَاهُ مِنَ الْحُزْنِ فَهُوَ كَظِيمٌ
"And he turned away from them and said, 'Oh, my grief for Yusuf!' And his eyes became white from sorrow, and he was filled with grief."
— Surah Yusuf, 12:84
Allah did not rebuke Yaqub (عليه السلام) for this grief. Allah did not say his sadness was a sign of weak iman. Allah recorded his tears in the Quran — the most preserved book in human history — as a testimony to the depth of a father's love. His grief was not a spiritual failure. It was a human truth.
And then there is Surah Ad-Duha — one of the most tender passages in the entire Quran. The Prophet ﷺ was going through a period of deep anguish, feeling that revelation had been suspended and that Allah had abandoned him. What did Allah say?
مَا وَدَّعَكَ رَبُّكَ وَمَا قَلَىٰ
"Your Lord has not taken leave of you, nor has He detested you."
— Surah Ad-Duha, 93:3
Allah did not say "stop feeling this way." He said: I am here. I have not left you. He met the pain with presence, not dismissal. This is the Quranic model of responding to grief — and it is the opposite of toxic positivity.
وَلَلْآخِرَةُ خَيْرٌ لَّكَ مِنَ الْأُولَىٰ
"And the Hereafter is better for you than the first [life]."
— Surah Ad-Duha, 93:4
Notice the sequence: Allah first acknowledges the pain, then offers perspective. He does not begin with "look at the bright side." He begins with: you are not alone.
In the tenth year of prophethood, the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ lost two of the people most beloved to him within weeks of each other: his wife Khadijah (رضي الله عنها), his greatest supporter and companion of 25 years, and his uncle Abu Talib, his protector and guardian. The Prophet ﷺ was devastated.
He did not perform okayness. He did not suppress his grief or tell the Sahabah that everything was fine. He was visibly sorrowful — so much so that the companions recognised his pain and the historians recorded it with care.
And what did Allah's Prophet ﷺ name that period?
عَامُ الْحُزْن
"Aam ul-Huzn" — The Year of Grief
— Recorded in Seerah Ibn Hisham and authenticated Seerah sources
The Prophet ﷺ — the best of creation, the most beloved to Allah, the man with the strongest iman in human history — named an entire year after his grief. Not after his sabr. Not after his shukr. After his huzn. His sadness.
If sadness were a sign of weak iman, Allah would not have allowed His most beloved Prophet ﷺ to feel it so deeply. The very existence of Aam ul-Huzn is Islamic permission — divinely modelled — for us to acknowledge our grief honestly.
The Prophet ﷺ also wept openly when his infant son Ibrahim passed away. When the companions asked about his tears, he said:
إِنَّ الْعَيْنَ تَدْمَعُ وَالْقَلْبَ يَحْزَنُ وَلاَ نَقُولُ إِلاَّ مَا يَرْضَى رَبُّنَا وَإِنَّا بِفِرَاقِكَ يَا إِبْرَاهِيمُ لَمَحْزُونُونَ
"The eyes shed tears and the heart grieves, and we will not say except what pleases our Lord. And indeed, O Ibrahim, we are grieved by your departure."
— Sahih al-Bukhari, 1303
Read this hadith carefully. The Prophet ﷺ held both realities at the same time: the heart grieves AND we say only what pleases Allah. He did not say "the heart must not grieve." He said the heart grieves — and that is not in conflict with iman. This is the Islamic model of emotional honesty.
Modern psychology has established with remarkable clarity that suppressing negative emotions does not make them go away. It makes them worse — and it makes us worse.
🔬 Research Finding #1 — James Gross, Stanford University (1998)
Psychologist James Gross published a landmark study in the Journal of Personality and Social Psychology showing that emotional suppression — the deliberate effort to inhibit ongoing emotion-expressive behaviour — leads to increased physiological stress responses, reduced memory for emotional events, and paradoxically, increased negative affect over time. In short: forcing yourself not to feel sad does not reduce sadness. It stores it in the body while the mind pretends it is not there.
🔬 Research Finding #2 — Susan David, Harvard Medical School
Psychologist Susan David, author of Emotional Agility and researcher at Harvard Medical School, found that people who suppress or dismiss their emotions — what she calls being "emotionally rigid" — show higher rates of anxiety, depression, and interpersonal difficulty. Her research proposes that emotional agility — the ability to acknowledge, name, and accept all emotions without being overwhelmed by them — is a far stronger predictor of long-term wellbeing than positive thinking alone. The people with the highest resilience are not those who feel less pain. They are those who allow themselves to feel it fully without judgement.
🔬 Research Finding #3 — Brené Brown, University of Houston
Research by Brené Brown on vulnerability and shame found that when we numb or suppress painful emotions, we do not selectively numb only the bad ones — we numb our capacity for all emotion, including joy, gratitude, and connection. The very act of forcing positivity over grief ultimately erodes our ability to experience genuine happiness. You cannot selectively shut down sadness without also shutting down joy.
What is astonishing is that 1,400 years before these studies were published, the Prophet ﷺ modelled exactly what these researchers recommend: feel the grief fully, express it honestly, and hold it alongside your trust in Allah — without letting either cancel the other.
Here is the most important distinction in this entire post: Alhamdulillah is not a command to stop feeling. It is a declaration of trust.
The Arabic word hamd (حَمْد) carries a specific meaning: it is praise that is given consciously, deliberately, even in the face of difficulty. It is not the automatic reflex of someone who feels fine. It is the intentional choice of someone who feels pain and yet affirms: Allah is still worthy of praise.
This is why the Prophet ﷺ taught us to say Inna lillahi wa inna ilayhi raji'un — "Indeed, we belong to Allah and indeed to Him we shall return" — when struck by hardship. Not "Alhamdulillah, everything is fine." But: this belongs to Allah. I acknowledge the loss. And I return it to its Owner.
الَّذِينَ إِذَا أَصَابَتْهُم مُّصِيبَةٌ قَالُوا إِنَّا لِلَّهِ وَإِنَّا إِلَيْهِ رَاجِعُونَ
"Those who, when disaster strikes them, say: Indeed we belong to Allah, and indeed to Him we will return."
— Surah Al-Baqarah, 2:156
Notice what this ayah does not say. It does not say "those who smile through hardship." It does not say "those who tell others they are fine." It says those who, when musibah (disaster, calamity) strikes — they make an acknowledgement. They name the reality of the loss, and they place it in Allah's hands. Grief and iman are not opposites. They coexist — in the Quran itself.
Sara is still grieving her mother eight months later. Her tears have not stopped. Her heart still aches on quiet afternoons.
The Islam of the Quran and the Sunnah does not tell Sara to stop crying. It sits beside her. It says: Yaqub (عليه السلام) wept until he could not see. The Prophet ﷺ named a year after his grief. Your tears are not weakness — they are the honest language of a heart that loved.
Alhamdulillah does not mean "I am not sad." It means "Even in this sadness, I know Who holds me." Sara can say Alhamdulillah with tears on her face. She can say it while missing her mother with every breath. The two are not in conflict. They were never meant to be.
The du'a of the Prophet ﷺ for grief is not "make me stop feeling this." It is: O Allah, I complain to You of my weakness and my sorrow. Even the Prophet ﷺ complained to Allah. Even he named his pain. That is not weak iman. That is the highest form of tawakkul — taking your raw, unfiltered grief directly to the One who created the heart that feels it.
Name Your Emotion Without Judgement
Psychologists call this "affect labelling" — simply naming what you feel ("I am grieving," "I feel lonely," "I am afraid") reduces the intensity of the emotion in the brain's amygdala, as shown in research by Matthew Lieberman at UCLA. Islamically, this mirrors the Prophetic practice of acknowledging pain honestly before turning to Allah. Do not call your sadness "ingratitude." Call it what it is: sadness. Then take it to Allah as it is.
Speak to Allah in Your Own Words — Not Just Formal Duas
The Prophet ﷺ taught us formal duas — and they are precious. But he also modelled raw, honest conversation with Allah. After the death of Khadijah (رضي الله عنها), he continued to speak of her, to honour her memory, to feel her absence. Your salah, your tahajjud, your moments alone — use them to speak to Allah as you actually feel, not as you think you should feel. He already knows. He is waiting for you to come as you are.
When Supporting Others — Sit in the Pain First
When a sister shares her grief with you, resist the urge to fix it with a religious quote. Follow the Quranic model — Allah first said "I have not abandoned you" before offering perspective. Say: "I hear you. This is hard. I'm here." Let her feel heard before you offer hope. A person who feels genuinely heard is far more open to comfort than one who has been silenced by positivity. This is the Sunnah of companionship in pain.
Seek Professional Help Without Shame
If your sadness is persistent, overwhelming, or affecting your ability to function, seeking a therapist or counsellor is not a failure of iman — it is a fulfilment of the Islamic principle of taking means (asbab). The Prophet ﷺ said: "Make use of medical treatment, for Allah has not made a disease without appointing a remedy for it" (Abu Dawud, 3855 — Sahih). Mental health is health. Seeking support for it is Sunnah.
☽ Du'a for Grief and Sadness — From the Sunnah
اللَّهُمَّ إِنِّي أَعُوذُ بِكَ مِنَ الْهَمِّ وَالْحَزَنِ، وَأَعُوذُ بِكَ مِنَ الْعَجْزِ وَالْكَسَلِ
"O Allah, I seek refuge in You from anxiety and grief, and I seek refuge in You from incapacity and laziness."
— Sahih al-Bukhari, 6369
اللَّهُمَّ رَحْمَتَكَ أَرْجُو فَلَا تَكِلْنِي إِلَى نَفْسِي طَرْفَةَ عَيْنٍ
"O Allah, it is Your mercy that I hope for, so do not leave me in charge of my own affairs even for the blink of an eye."
— Abu Dawud, 5090 — Authenticated as Hasan
✦ Final Sukoon Reflection
You are allowed to feel sad. You are allowed to grieve. You are allowed to sit in the heaviness of loss without performing okayness for anyone — including your own inner critic that has been taught to confuse suppression with strength.
Islam does not ask you to feel nothing. It asks you to feel everything — and bring it all to Allah. Your tears are not a sign that your iman is broken. They are evidence that your heart is alive, that you loved, that you are human in exactly the way Allah created you to be.
Say Alhamdulillah with a broken voice if you must. Allah hears the breaks as clearly as the words.
No — sadness and crying are not sins in Islam. The Prophet ﷺ wept at the death of his son Ibrahim (Sahih al-Bukhari, 1303), at the death of his grandson (Sahih Muslim, 923), and in other moments of deep emotion. He explicitly distinguished between the grief of the heart and the words of the mouth — the heart's grief is natural and human, while the sin lies in saying what displeases Allah (such as expressing despair or rejection of His decree). Feeling sad is not haram. It is human.
Not necessarily. Yaqub (عليه السلام) grieved for his son Yusuf for years — so long that his sight was affected — and yet he was a Prophet of Allah. Grief that persists is not always a sign of weak faith; it can be a sign of deep love. However, if prolonged sadness is significantly affecting your ability to function, eat, sleep, or maintain your ibadah, it may be clinical depression — a medical condition that benefits from professional support. Seeking help in that case is not weakness; it is wisdom and a form of taking means (asbab) as the Sunnah encourages.
Follow the Quranic model from Surah Ad-Duha: presence before perspective. Sit with your friend. Say "I am here" before you say "everything happens for a reason." Resist the urge to fix the grief — grief is not a problem to solve; it is a process to accompany. Ask: "Do you want to talk, or do you just need company?" Make dua for them out loud if they are comfortable with it. And avoid phrases like "at least..." or "just be grateful" — these, however well-intentioned, communicate that their pain is inconvenient. Your presence is more healing than your advice.
This is a crucial distinction. Grief (huzn) is the natural emotional response to loss — it is felt in the heart and is not sinful. Despair (ya's or qunoot) is the theological state of losing hope in Allah's mercy — believing that He cannot or will not help you, or that your situation is beyond His reach. The Quran explicitly warns against despair: "Do not despair of the mercy of Allah" (Surah Az-Zumar, 39:53). You can grieve deeply while still holding onto hope in Allah — in fact, that combination is precisely what the Prophets modelled. Grief without hope is despair. Grief with hope is sabr.
Nazia Firdous — The Sukoon Seeker
Nazia Firdous is an educator and Islamic wellness writer based in Pakistan. She runs Sabr and Sukoon, a faith-based wellness blog for Muslim women navigating anxiety, grief, and spiritual growth. Her writing draws from Quranic wisdom, authenticated hadith, and evidence-based psychology. She holds no claim to scholarly authority and encourages readers to verify all religious content with qualified scholars.
Disclaimer: This content is for informational and spiritual education purposes only. It is not a substitute for professional mental health advice, medical diagnosis, or clinical therapy. If you are experiencing persistent distress, please seek support from a qualified mental health professional.
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