Mama used to beat me up,
Using her hands,
Slippers,
A rod.
The rod was only used for beatings.
She used to beat me when I was young,
Over the smallest, and most trivial things.
I was the one who got beaten the most.
That’s why I’m the one who's afraid of her the most among my siblings.
My father never treated me as if I were worthy of respect.
This has led to many hardships in my life.
I used to love him so much.
He married another woman when I was 13.
I felt lost then.
I was broken.
I stopped hearing about her a long time ago.
When I found out that she was in a relationship,
With someone who was prepared for marriage,
And that they were intending to get married,
I withdrew in a nice manner and wished her all the best.
I mean I know my luck:
I am always too late.
My name is Khadra.
I’m 33 and I’m a middle school dropout,
But I don’t know how to read or write.
My parents passed away, and I have three kids:
Basma, Dina, and Amr.
My husband passed away too.
We went with them,
And I don’t remember anything about that day,
Except for the doctor yelling at me.
She told me to take off my pants,
But I refused.
They gave me anesthesia,
And cut off a part of me.
I regained consciousness when I had become a “woman.”
Everything changed after that day.
When I was little, I often dreamt of a demon.
I’d bang on our front door as the demon came down the stairs.
I’d scream and my voice would catch in my throat.
My hands would grow heavier as I pounded on the door.
When I got married, I started to suspect that demon was my husband.
domestic violence, gender violence, physical violence, social stigma, work, addiction
I used to love someone.
We worked together.
I really admired his personality.
He asked for my hand in marriage,
But my parents rejected him,
Because he was from a different social class.
I had a feeling he was ambitious,
And that he’d amount to something.
When we were engaged,
He was always concerned with the apartment,
And getting it ready.
After 12 days of marriage,
Full of hitting, swearing, and being rude,
I called his brother.
He told me the same old garbage:
“He’s young. He’ll change. Be patient.”
domestic violence, gender violence, physical violence, addiction, marriage, divorce, social stigma
I kissed two women for the first time in my life today at a party.
Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t a kiss on the mouth.
It was a peck on the cheek.
Just a normal kiss; the way you’d kiss a guy friend.
You’ll think it’s weird,
But when you know my story,
You’ll applaud me.