7 Stages of Love Review: A Book I Kept Coming Back To

Rating:
⭐⭐⭐⭐ (4.3 out of 5)

I’ll start with something honest. I didn’t plan to sit with 7 Stages of Love for as long as I did. I picked it up expecting a spiritual text, maybe reflective, maybe instructional. What I didn’t expect was how often I paused, closed the page, and just sat there staring at nothing. Not because it was confusing. But because it stirred something old and familiar, the kind of feeling that doesn’t announce itself loudly.

In my years at Deified Publication, and long before that as a reader who reads everything from dense philosophy to fragile poetry, I’ve learned one thing. Books about love and faith either become too abstract or too preachy. This one does neither. It chooses a third path. Story. A human story. And that makes all the difference.

What the Book Is About

At its core, 7 Stages of Love by Dr Muhammad Shibily Valeed is a spiritual novel rooted deeply in Sufi tradition, Islamic theology, and emotional transformation. The book follows the life of Omar Muqthar, a boy growing up in Egypt whose ordinary life slowly tilts toward something far larger than himself.

Omar is not introduced as a saint. He is a child of routines, prayers, family expectations, markets, festivals, and the gentle predictability of faith practiced daily. What changes everything is a subtle inner pull. Not a dramatic event. Just a feeling that something beyond the visible world is calling him.

Through Omar’s encounters with a Sufi teacher, his growing practice of remembrance, and his internal struggles, the book maps the seven classical stages of divine love. Attraction. Familiarity. Longing. Consuming love. Annihilation of ego. Return with transformation. Perfect servanthood.

What I appreciated is that the book does not rush through these stages like a checklist. Each stage unfolds through lived experience. Through doubt. Through confusion. Through pain. Omar does not glide through spirituality. He stumbles into it, resists it, questions it, and sometimes feels crushed by it.

There’s no attempt to make this journey easy or glamorous. Which, honestly, made it feel more real.

What Stood Out to Me

The first thing that stayed with me was the pacing. This is not a fast book, and it does not try to be. The writing breathes. Scenes linger. A conversation under a tree matters. A single line from a teacher echoes across chapters. As an editor, I noticed how deliberately the author allows silence to exist on the page.

The second thing is how carefully symbolism is handled. Sufi poetry often gets misunderstood, especially metaphors like Layla, wine, intoxication, madness. Dr Shibily Valeed clearly knows this risk and addresses it head on. The book repeatedly anchors mystical imagery back to Islamic creed. Tawhid is never compromised. The author makes it very clear that metaphors are doors, not destinations.

I also admired how the book respects intellect without showing off. Concepts like fanā and baqā are explained through Omar’s emotional state rather than academic exposition. You feel ego dissolving not because you are told it happens, but because Omar no longer reacts the way he used to. His silences change. His patience deepens. His suffering becomes less dramatic and more inward.

There’s a section where Omar begins to prefer solitude over social gatherings. I’ve seen this phase misunderstood in real life so many times. Here, it’s handled gently. Solitude is not escape. It’s preparation.

The Emotional Core

This book is not really about theology. It’s about longing.

There is a stretch in the middle where Omar experiences separation from the sense of divine closeness he once felt. Honestly, some parts hit differently here. The pain is not romanticized. It’s heavy. Exhausting. Lonely. I kept thinking about how rarely spiritual books talk honestly about this phase. Usually, they jump from devotion to peace. This one stays with the ache.

There’s a moment where Omar realizes that even his suffering has become a subtle form of ego. That moment stayed with me for days. I’ve seen this happen in real life. When pain becomes identity. When yearning becomes pride. The book does not judge him for this. It simply observes it.

And that observation feels compassionate.

What surprised me emotionally was how grounded the ending feels. The final stages are not about disappearing into the divine permanently. They are about returning. Serving. Living. Loving people again without losing God.

That balance is hard to write. The book manages it without grand declarations.

Who This Book Is For

This book will speak deeply to readers who are already asking questions about faith beyond rituals. If you’ve ever felt close to God and then felt that closeness slip away, this will resonate.

It’s also for readers interested in Sufism but wary of vague mysticism. The theological grounding is strong.

That said, this might not be for everyone. If you are looking for quick spiritual motivation or simple answers, this book may feel demanding. It asks patience. It asks emotional attention. It asks you to slow down.

And honestly, that’s a strength, not a flaw.

Final Thoughts

I’ll say this plainly. 7 Stages of Love feels like a book written by someone who understands both belief and doubt. As Editor in Chief at Deified Publication, I read manuscripts all the time that talk about transformation. Very few embody it quietly the way this one does.

Dr Muhammad Shibily Valeed writes with restraint. He trusts the reader. He trusts the process. And that trust shows.

I didn’t finish this book feeling spiritually superior. I finished it feeling softened. And I think that’s exactly the point.