Most people think ego shows only in anger or arrogance. But sometimes it wears success like perfume, subtle, sweet and dangerous. You start believing you built everything with your own hands or your own dua blessed by the Almighty. You forget that your success could have come from your loved ones or well wishers.
It begins quietly. You work hard, earn well and gain respect. You tell yourself this is what barakah looks like. Then days pass where prayer becomes quick, remembrance becomes rare, and the heart feels strangely light, not peaceful but hollow. You are busy maintaining a life Allah once gave, but you stop maintaining your bond with Him.
Once, someone tried to recite verses from the Quran in their own way, just to feel closer to the words. But a religious person told them they were doing it wrong and even called them “stupid.” That single word hurt deeply. It was not the correction that wounded, but the way it was given. Sometimes, people who carry knowledge forget that guidance without kindness can turn into ego. The Quran teaches with mercy, not insult, and every sincere effort to learn should be met with patience, not pride.
When success turns into something we cannot stop talking about, ego has already found a quiet seat inside us. Most of the time, we do not mean to show off. We only want to share what made us happy a new job, a child’s achievement, a comfortable home. But somewhere in the excitement, words start sounding like proof of our worth. What began as gratitude slowly turns into display.
The Prophet ﷺ warned that even small acts done to impress others will be exposed on the Day of Judgement: “Whoever acts to be seen, Allah will expose him. Whoever acts to be heard, Allah will make his intentions known.” (Sahih Muslim 2987). That includes the moments we casually post, boast, or compare.
Unintentional showing off still carries weight because it plants quiet pain in others those struggling silently, those who feel left behind. Their sadness may not be anger, but their hearts speak to Allah, and He hears every sigh. Sometimes the harm from our unintentional pride reaches higher than we know.
True gratitude does not need an audience. It whispers Alhamdulillah in private. And if Allah has given us success, the safest way to keep it is to hide it behind humility, guard it with prayer, and remember that every blessing can be taken in a heartbeat.
Ego does not always show as pride in words. It often hides behind achievement, behind the smile of someone who looks calm but is quietly drifting from Allah. You tell yourself everything is fine. You pray, you give charity, you still believe. Yet little by little, worship starts to fade. You remember Allah only between tasks. You start to chase what you once avoided. You build a beautiful life, but your soul starts to feel tired.
Then comes balar, that small crack Allah sends when comfort turns into forgetfulness. It could be sickness, loss, or the kind of emptiness that no success can fill. It is not cruelty; it is mercy that hurts. A wake up call before the distance becomes too wide. When balar comes, there is no escape. You fall, sometimes all the way to the ground, and realise how fragile you really are. Allah does not shout; He shakes what you lean on. And in that shaking, you see who really holds it all together.
And deeper still is another truth. Our blessings are often carried by the prayers of others. Parents who prayed in silence. Friends who wished good for us. Loved ones who forgave us even when we did not notice. When their prayers weaken, when their hearts turn sad or hurt, the blessing begins to shake. Sometimes it collapses. What destroys it is not fate, but pride, the whisper of shaytan telling us, “You did this by yourself,” or even “Allah gave me this success and not through anyone else’s dua. Whatever happens, it is between Allah and me.”
It is not fate that takes away success; sometimes it is the sadness of someone you love, or the anger of someone you ignored. And behind it again, shaytan whispers, “You did this by yourself.” That whisper feeds pride, and pride feeds distance.
The truth is simple. Our achievements are borrowed. The health, the career, the peace at home, all on loan from Allah, all sustained by love around us. If He decides to take it back, no power, no title, no degree can stop Him.
So fear Allah before He reminds you. Not because He is cruel, but because His reminders can come through what you love most. And when they come, you will fall, sometimes to your knees, sometimes all the way down, to remember what it means to truly surrender.
Maybe that is the real test of ego. Not how loudly we defend our success, but how quietly we admit that none of it was ever ours.
That is why the hardest person to surrender to Allah is not anyone else. It is the self that thinks it is already close to Him.
More Reads!
- The hadith: “He who so acts to show off, Allah will disgrace him on the Day of Resurrection, and he who does good deeds so that people (may hold him in high esteem), Allah will expose his hidden evil intentions before the people on the Day of Resurrection.” Sunnah+1
- On riya (showing off) being a form of minor shirk: “Verily, what I fear most for you after me is ostentation and hidden lusts” (Prophet ﷺ) abuaminaelias.com
- The notion that our deeds should be for Allah alone, and desires to be seen by others nullify them. quran.com+1
- When Faith Loses Wisdom: The Modern Crisis That Paves the Way for Imam Mahdi
- Waswasa in Islam: The Sinister Whispers That Destroy Marriages

