Ramadan is a sacred time of year when Muslims worldwide feel especially connected to their faith. Falling in the ninth month of the Islamic calendar, Ramadan is when Muslims abstain from food, drink and other physical needs from dawn until sunset. But for me, over the years, Ramadan has become so much more than that. It’s not just about fasting, it’s about the growth and gratitude that comes with it. 

As a child I always viewed Ramadan as a form of sacrifice. I thought that if you fasted you would be rewarded. I believed if you gave up comforts, in return, blessings would follow. I remember the days when my dad would be fasting, and I would forget and accidentally offer him food. He would always kindly remind me that he was fasting and couldn’t eat, but he never seemed bothered by it.

Instead, he would go on and make meals for me, even while he couldn’t enjoy them himself. At that age, I thought of it as just a duty he had to fulfill. I hadn’t realized how fasting was more than just a physical act, it was an action that brought him closer to his faith. It wasn’t about being uncomfortable for the sake of it, it was about spiritually purifying himself and strengthening his connection with Allah.

As I’ve grown older, my understanding of Ramadan has evolved. I now truly understand the purpose of this sacred month. Ramadan is about learning patience, practicing self-discipline and developing empathy for those who don’t have the blessings we do. Ramadan is a time to reflect on what we have, to be grateful and to strengthen our faith. Even during fasting, it’s important to remember that Ramadan is not about seeking attention or making others aware of our struggles. It’s about inner growth, getting upset or constantly reminding others about our fast goes against the purpose. 

Despite all this, Ramadan 2025 has been different for me. If I’m being honest, it’s been a little sad this year. It’s the first one I’ve spent away from home, the first one without my mom waking me up for sehri (the meal before the fast) and the first one without my family gathered around the table for iftar (the meal after the fast). This year, Ramadan has taken on a different feeling. I’ve found myself missing the comfort of home, the warmth of my mom’s delicious food and the love from my dad as he serves the meal.  

I had my first two iftar meals in the dining hall this year. By the time I can open my fast, most of my friends have already eaten, so most days there’s not much company. It’s a strange kind of loneliness that’s hard to put into words. To overcome the feeling, I’ve found myself making iftar plans with others just to escape the loneliness of breaking my fast alone. 

Iftar has always been about gathering, decompressing after the long day of fasting and sharing those small moments of connection. It’s a time to sit down with loved ones, debrief, laugh and bond over the meal. But this hit me this year for the first time, making me realize just how much those moments truly mean to me. 

Now I know that Ramadan is a time of year when homesickness hits the hardest. It’s strange how especially noticeable the absence of familiar voices and the warmth of my family’s presence is during the month of Ramadan. However, at DePaul I’m blessed to be surrounded by wonderful people. While it’s a little different from what I’m used to, it’s still a very meaningful experience. I have the chance to share the beauty of this month with those around me. And, when they can, it’s been truly heartwarming to share iftar dinners with them. While it may not be the same as with family, it’s a wonderful opportunity to teach others about what Ramadan really means. Above all else, I’m grateful for this unique experience.

Even in this homesickness, there’s something beautiful. I’m learning to appreciate Ramadan in a new light. It’s not just about the food or the rituals. This year’s fasting feels more challenging. As much as I miss a table full of iftar dishes, in many ways, what I have now is more meaningful. 

Each day, as I break my fast with a simpler meal than usual, I’m reminded of the importance of gratitude and patience. While this Ramadan is different, there’s a light at the end of the tunnel. I know that I’ll have the comfort of my family again in just a few weeks during spring break. The joy of gathering together, sharing stories and breaking the fast with those I love. 

Until then, I’ll hold onto the lessons this Ramadan has brought me, knowing that the next time I sit at a full iftar table, it will feel even more special.

Related Stories:

• Ramadan at DePaul: A reflection on community, inclusivity and devotion to faith
• What celebrating Ramadan looks like during a pandemic
• Students break fast and learn about Ramadan at Interfaith Iftar

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