After reading Hijab Butch Blues, I wanted to hear how Lamya now reflects on the memoir, several years after its publication. They kindly shared their thoughts on what they hope readers take away from the book, how their relationship with faith has evolved and what they think their younger self would make of the life they've built today.

Looking back now, what do you hope readers take away from Hijab Butch Blues, whether they share your experiences or are encountering them for the first time?

When I wrote this book, I wrote it not just for people who were queer or Muslim or queer and Muslim, but also for people who grew up without seeing models for themselves and their identities, without models for how to live. I hope readers take away this idea that it can be messy figuring out how to live a life that is full and intentional, but that to do so is also beautiful and empowering. 

Your memoir refuses the idea that faith and queerness are in opposition, instead holding them together with such tenderness and complexity. Has your relationship with faith and queerness shifted since writing the memoir, particularly as you've moved through different stages of life?

Having kids has been the biggest factor in changing my relationship to faith since writing the book. Children force you to clarify some of the things that are fuzzy in your experience, and I've had to think a lot about how to teach them about faith -- in ways that allow for doubt and questioning and for them to have their own experience with interpretations. My babies are still young, but it's something I think about all the time and is the subject of my next book. 

If your younger self could see the life you've built today - and the impact Hijab Butch Blues has had on so many readers - what do you think would surprise them most?

My younger self would be shocked at the life that I've been able to build for myself -- centering writing and organizing and community. I feel so lucky and grateful for the life I'm living.