I know that I'm Muslim. I have an Arabic name. And even though I represent Team USA and I have that Olympic hardware, it doesn't change how you look and how people perceive you.

Qualifying for this Olympic team has been the most stressful experience of my athletic career. It has taught me so much about myself and how to handle high-pressure moments. I've learned to become my own biggest cheerleader, always feeding myself positive thoughts, visualizing myself winning, and most importantly focusing on each individual point.

I think that we will come out on top as women, as people of color, as Muslims, as transgender people, as people who are part of the disabled community - I think that we'll come out on top.

I think Muslims in particular are facing similar obstacles African Americans did, historically.

As a Muslim youth, though I played a variety of sports growing up in New Jersey, my parents were in search of a sport for me to play where I could be fully covered and not have to modify the uniform. Fencing provided a unique opportunity where I could fulfill my desire to participate in sport, wear the same uniform as my teammates, and adhere to the tenets of my faith to cover my body.

The most difficult part is training and competing while observing the holy month of Ramadan, which involves fasting. The most rewarding part of being a Muslim athlete is my faith in God paired with my faith in myself. I approach every match with positivity and the belief that I can beat anyone on any given day. And in the face of defeat, I am able to learn from my mistakes and work on my weaknesses to prepare for next time.

People are always shocked to hear I'm an athlete by profession and even more shocked when they hear I'm a fencer from the United States. I challenge the stereotype that Muslim women are oppressed and that a Muslim can be American by birth. It's amazing how many assumptions people make, but I embrace the opportunity to use this Olympic platform to educate.