It took a few years to get it signed into law. My first time testifying in support of the bill at the Ohio Statehouse, I was very emotional. I remember getting off the stand and I was like, "Why am I so emotional?" I'd told this story a hundred other times. I was quivering — like, "I'm about to burst into tears in front of these Senators?" I was so emotional because, this is what I've been waiting for. Being up there, it was both nerve-racking and empowering at the same time because I felt like my voice really mattered in that moment.

I remember when it passed The Ohio House of Representatives. The way the Statehouse looks — it's like a big screen with all the representatives names in orange. Their names will turn green or red if they vote yes or no. It was a unanimous yes vote, so you just see all the orange becoming these green letters.

Seeing the green letters felt like a breath of fresh air. It was empowering. Days later the governor signed it, which was about two years after the first time I went to the Statehouse to drop the bill. It felt like I was doing what I was meant to do, and everything fell into place when it became law. That's almost the justice that I've been waiting for.

When it turned into law, I felt like my work and story became truly impactful for Muslim athletes in Ohio. Athletes that wants to express their religious beliefs in Ohio, they can do so without any hindrance. It's because of my story and me sharing it.

Before I started to tell my story, it was always such a question if it was worth it. Today, I know that it was.

Now, I am a rising sophomore at The Ohio State University, and much has changed. Going into college, I was like, "I'm going to really try to settle down." I'm on an academic scholarship, so it was important for me to focus on school. But that's not my speed. It hasn't been since 2019.

Although I no longer run competitively, I have focused on inclusivity in sports through my Let Noor Run campaign. We recently raised money for sports hijabs to be provided to students in Toledo, Ohio. Families shouldn't be hindered by having to buy sports hijabs to ensure their daughters stay in the game. It's not out of this world that there's a hijabi athlete, and it should become a common reality in all sports. It was one of the most powerful things that we could have done.

I started wearing my hijab in 2015 when I was 12 years old. My role models, these strong women like my mom, always wore hijabs. Wearing the hijab is a constant, everyday reminder to be the best version of myself. And because of that, during the pandemic, I visited classrooms virtually and met little girls inspired to play sports, engage in civic participation or even wear the hijab. Them relating and being inspired by my story is so special.

If I could go back and tell my 16-year-old self anything, it would be to accept the change you can make in the world.

As Muslim women become more prominent in sports, sports associations will stop trying to regulate them. They'll allow women to express themselves in sports just as you would anyone else. Just as someone might have an arm sleeve of tattoos, Muslim women wearing a hijab should be no different. Same with someone wearing cross jewelry. A hijab is no different.

When Muslim women decide to wear the hijab, it's not an easy feat. It's not easy to wear a hijab in this country. It takes a lot of strength. If you're going to make a Muslim woman choose between hijab and sports, they're going to fight for their hijab because it's something they chose to do. It's something they're committed to wearing. And I am committed to making sure they never have to choose."