I’m a guy.
I weigh 135 kg.
I’ve been bullied ever since I was 10.
People would make fun of the size of my chest.

There were three of us standing in a queue.
A woman entered and cut in the line.

Two days ago I went to get train tickets
I was standing in queue behind five people
5 minutes later, the five became nine
Five sweet girls came, and they went straight to the booth,
As if no one is standing
Everyone played stupid and didn’t say anything.

Whenever I see someone crying, especially my younger siblings,
I immediately tell them to stop.
I’m their older sibling and I must always appear strong.
They can’t cry because I can’t cry.
I have to hold it in.

My friend and I—whom my mother chose for me because he was “well-behaved”—used to frequent each other’s houses for private tutoring lessons.
He asked me one time before the lesson about masturbation—something I knew nothing about.
He insisted on doing it in front of me.
sex, sex education, sexuality, masculinity, body image

Growing up, I was taught that girls were responsible for preserving their honor.
I, as a man, have nothing to do with it.
My mother never brought up the word “honor” around me or my brother.

Ali: “Fuck that, how could my wife wear a swimsuit like this one?
And stand in front of men, while they look at her thighs?
Does it not bother you, Sherif, the idea of your wife wearing a swimsuit?”

If, while baba was beating me, I cried, he’d hit me again for crying.
“If you cry, you’ll get hit. Men don’t cry”, he’d tell me.
Whenever he beat me, my main concern was to not cry.

I’m the boss.
Honestly, I used to get these negative thoughts;
Thoughts that are full of violence and rage.
It was as if I was waiting to explode and let everything out.
masculinity, social pressure

I’m passive, weak, uneducated.
Veiled from head to toe.
One of his four wives.
Work in the kitchen all day.
And spread my legs wide at night.
That’s what you think, right?