“He is my Naseeb” Untangling love, faith, and Emotional Attachment
“And when you make your prayers,” I said softly, “ask Allah to guide you to khayr (goodness) whether that’s with Daud or someone you haven’t met yet. Keep your heart open to that possibility.”
There was a sudden drop in her face. I could tell I had touched a tender place. “He is my khayr,” she replied quickly. “I will make duʿā for him.”
I’ve seen this scenario unfold a multitude of times, individuals grappling with that quiet ache of holding on to someone they have tied their sense of peace and faith to. Time and time again, it appears in sessions: the heartbreak of loving someone so deeply that letting go feels like losing yourself. These strong feelings and the habits associated with them could be described as enmeshment.
Psychologist Salvador Minuchin, who first introduced the term, described enmeshment as a dynamic where boundaries are so diffused that individuals become over-involved in each other’s emotional experiences and needs.
Enmeshment is the concept that our sense of self becomes fused with another person’s, where emotions, decisions, and even spirituality starts to revolve around them. The line between you and them blurs and their happiness becomes your responsibility, their silence feels like rejection, and their presence defines your peace.
It’s when love turns into emotional dependence. When closeness comes at the cost of individuality.
In enmeshed relationships, you might find yourself thinking:
“If they’re not happy, I can’t be happy.”
“If they leave, I’ll never find love again.”
“Maybe this is my test, and I just need to pray harder for them.”
And slowly, what began as sincere love turns into something that shakes your faith. I’ve seen it create rifts between parents and children, and cause deep spiritual confusion for the one caught in it. Many ask through tears, “Why wouldn’t Allah accept my duʿā? Why wouldn’t He allow me to be with someone I love so deeply?”
But sometimes, the heartbreak isn’t about losing a person, it’s about feeling abandoned by Allah in the process. In truth, it might be His way of guiding you back to yourself in order to rebuild tawakkul (trusting and relying on Allah), identity, and the ability to love without losing who you are.
How Enmeshment Disguises Itself as Love or Faith
At first, it doesn’t feel unhealthy. It feels beautiful.
You think, “This is what connection is supposed to be, complete and devoted.”
You find comfort in their presence, meaning in their attention, and even a sense of spirituality in the way you love them. You pray for them, dream about them, and imagine a future where your lives are fully intertwined.
But slowly, the signs begin to show.
You start to lose independence in the name of loyalty, and mistake attachment for tawakkul.
You stop asking “Is this right for me?” and start asking “How can I make this work no matter what?”
Sometimes this blurring comes wrapped in deen (religious) language:
“He’s my naseeb (my destiny/fate).”
“Allah wouldn’t put this in my heart if it wasn’t meant to be.”
“I’ll pray until He makes it possible.”
But love that causes you to lose yourself, your peace, or your connection with Allah isn’t the kind that inspires growth, rather it’s the kind that consumes you.
Enmeshment often masquerades as devotion, telling you that sacrifice equals sincerity and that losing yourself proves love.
Yet, true love, the kind rooted in khayr (goodness), allows room for both closeness and individuality. It draws you nearer to Allah, not away from Him.
Healing from Enmeshment: Returning to Yourself and to Allah
Healing from enmeshment isn’t about closing your heart; it’s about coming home to yourself and learning to establish boundaries in close relationships. Your heart was never meant to orbit around a person; it was created to anchor in Allah.
If you are someone experiencing enmeshment, here are 4 small but meaningful tips that you can incorporate into your journey.
Reclaiming your routines, friendships, and moments of solitude.
Noticing when your peace depends on someone else’s mood.
Making duʿā not just for love to work out, but for clarity, strength, and acceptance of what’s truly khayr.
Allowing yourself to grieve the dream you built around them without shame.
As you heal, you will begin to see that love doesn’t require losing yourself.
Healthy love has boundaries, space, and trust in Allah’s plan. It isn’t a tug-of-war between faith and feeling; it’s a surrender to something higher, even when it hurts.
Sometimes Allah removes what we cling to most, not as punishment, but as protection. He allows what is khayr to unfold even when it’s not what we imagined.
Allah reminds us in the Qur’an:
“…But perhaps you hate a thing and it is good for you; and perhaps you love a thing and it is bad for you. And Allah knows, while you know not.” (Surah Al-Baqarah, 2:216)
So maybe next time, the duʿā sounds a little different:
“Ya Allah, if this is good for me, bring it closer. And if it’s not, turn my heart toward what is.”
That prayer is open and trusting. It’s the kind of surrender that leads you back to balance, to peace, and to the One who never leaves.
Interested in learning more about boundaries and emotional health?
Connect with Ebla Therapy for trauma-informed, culturally responsive care: www.eblatherapy.com