Although I’ve lived in Abu Dhabi for more than 12 years, this Ramadan was unlike any other. For the first time, I was able to fast for the full month (except when I was menstruating) – something I had attempted before, but never quite managed to achieve. Now that the holy month has come to an end, I realise I will miss it more than I expected.
What surprised me most was that the experience was never really about hunger. While there were moments when my stomach would grumble loudly and all I could think about was eating at iftar, I found the hunger pangs faded as the days went on.
Moreover, I felt safe in the knowledge that, come sunset, a meal would be waiting for me. It was a reminder that for many people around the world, that certainty doesn’t exist – a thought that returned to me each time I felt hungry.
Over time, I learnt to pace how I ate in the evenings. Rather than rushing straight into a full meal, it felt better to break the fast with something small and give my body a few moments to adjust before eating more later. It was a simple habit, but it made the transition into the evening feel far more balanced.
Within minutes, the hunger that had built up throughout the day would fade – a reminder that even the strongest cravings are often temporary.
Experiencing Ramadan in this way also reminded me that the month is not really about lavish spreads or unlimited food. Most of my iftars were spent quietly at home eating simple meals rather than at elaborate buffets.
Fasting didn’t just bring gratitude into focus, either. It also reinforced the value of patience. Knowing that I could wait a little longer to eat made me realise that there are few things in life that require immediate attention. These days, when everything feels urgent, Ramadan encouraged me to slow down and accept that some things can wait.
It also made me more thoughtful about how I spent my time. With early mornings for suhoor and later nights than usual, maintaining my normal routine wasn’t always realistic.
Instead of forcing it, I tried to listen to what my body needed – whether that meant napping more or easing back on things such as hitting the gym. In many ways, the shift in sleeping and eating patterns encouraged me to be more intentional with my day and to focus on what actually matters.
I also used the holy month to reflect more on the people around me. Whether it was meeting up with friends for iftar, checking in on someone I hadn’t spoken to in a while or simply making time for a conversation, the month was an opportunity to nurture relationships that often get pushed aside during busier periods.
The experience also brought a quiet sense of spiritual awareness. I found myself becoming more aware of my thoughts and actions. Part of that process involved trying to remove small pockets of negativity.
Ramadan is often associated with being mindful of one’s words and behaviour, and that idea can extend beyond simply avoiding arguments or frustrations. It can also mean paying attention to the things we allow into our lives, whether that means unnecessary stress, unhelpful thoughts or habits that do little to improve our well-being.
Of course, it would be unrealistic to successfully eliminate all negativity. Life continues with its usual pressures and distractions. But the holy month served as a gentle reminder to be more conscious and, where possible, to choose a calmer response.
Perhaps that is why, as Ramadan comes to an end, I find myself feeling a little reluctant to let it go. Beyond the discipline of fasting, the month created space for reflection, gratitude and a greater sense of balance.
While life will soon return to its usual rhythm, I hope some of those lessons remain: a little more patience, a little more kindness and a greater appreciation for the everyday things we often overlook.
If anything, this experience has made me curious about what the holy month might feel like next year. Now that I have gone through it once, I hope to approach the next Ramadan with even greater intention and understanding.
