My memoir is published!

Well, an excerpt of it.

Photo by Quilia on Unsplash

When I started this Substack almost two years ago, I had all these ambitions about the kind of writer I was finally going to be.

I was going to have enough confidence to share my work.

I was going to get an agent.

My book would be acquired by a reputable publisher.

During my book talks, I would hear from readers that my story about my dad inspired them to forgive their own parents.

All of that was useful to get me to finish my memoir. When I finally did, I woke up from my delusions.

Me? My memoir being read by others?

Not taking into account the very real possibility of my family refusing to ever speak to me again, there was no way I was going to be able to “sell” my story no matter how good it was. Because I would have to be the one selling it.

I hadn’t really thought that one through.

…

About a year ago, I put my memoir on hold. I couldn’t think about my painful past as I was going through another painful episode in real time. Alhamdullilah after that, I moved, got a new job, received some funding to write another book… I had almost forgotten about this one.

Almost.

Earlier this year, I applied to Muslim Youth Musing’s writing cohort. The theme of the current cohort is “Mountains.” My first draft started off as a pseudo-exegesis of Qur’anic references to mountains and then jumped to my lifelong fear of heights.

It was a mess, and not one I could turn into an actual story.

Then during one of our online Writing Hours, one of the coordinators shared a prompt that gave me a more expansive rendering of the theme: obsession. Just like mountain-climbers are obsessed with reaching the apex, what have you been obsessed about?

I didn’t have to think twice. I had already written the article I was going to submit; it was in my manuscript! Maybe this would be a good way to test the waters, I thought. This chapter was also the easiest to share, because it didn’t impinge on family members. The parts that did, I removed. Working with the amazing Zahra Wadia as my editor, I was then able to transform what were fragmented thoughts into an actual story that at least two people thought was “good enough”¹ to publish.

I don’t feel confident, but I’m going to share it anyway. This is why I started this Substack after all, right?

Fat is Who I Am

The story begins in April 2005 and ends in April 2026. It’s a 21-year old journey that’s not really over, but I hope the end is satisfying nonetheless. The conclusion was hard to write. Sometimes it feels as if I was forcing myself to end it on that note. I also never mentioned that I started to wear hijab in 2009. I know that played — still plays — a huge role. Perhaps I can explore that dynamic in a future Substack post.

If you do read this piece, I would love to know what you think. Did you resonate with anything? Do you have a more positive relationship with your body today and if so, what changed? Do you have your own personal experiences of “too much of a good thing”?

OK, Khalas! Just like my dad used to say after his year-long stint in Saudi.

1. The title of my memoir is “Never Good Enough.” After reading the published version of this excerpt, even though it’s much improved, I’m still not happy with some of my word choices. I guess that’s part and parcel of being a writer.