For the longest time, perhaps until after highschool, I thought all girls were like me.
Then I found out that not all of them were like me.
I didn’t understand what it meant. What’s the difference?
I would always avoid thinking about the incident.
Until a black cloud formed in my mind, engulfing the memory of this incident.

I was 19 years old when I decided to have sex.
I didn’t know what sex was.
I didn’t know what a physical relationship was.
Everything I knew about them came from the media.
sex, sex education, sexuality, body image, gender violence

I was circumcised when I was in sixth grade.
I was aware of everything,
And tried to talk to my mother,
But she was passive,
And didn’t care.
Even though she complained a lot about her sex life,
And how it does nothing for women.
gender violence, physical violence, fgm, sex

I remember that day clearly.
I knew that I was going to get circumcised, it happened to my sisters.
I was 12 then. I took a shower and they dressed me in a short skirt.
They took me to a surgeon. He passed away, but I will never pray for him.
I will never forgive my mother either.

We were all girls like you once.
I was a young girl just like you before marrying your father.
We all went through the same things.
We’d just play sports and take a cold shower.

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.

I have been following the campaign for a while
I feel pain for all these girls.
I am not sure how my story will come across in comparison to all these painful stories.
I was lucky that the doctor refused to conduct the procedure,
And said, “there doesn't seem to be anything worth cutting”

It didn’t feel normal or spontaneous.
Between being scolded by your conservative [female] relative for doing something “immodest” and listening to your friends whispering about touching certain [private] areas on maids’ and female cousins’ bodies, you eventually learn to associate the opposite sex’s body with shame.
There has got to be something shameful about it.

In my family, it’s neither accepted nor allowed for a girl to not be a virgin before marriage.
I don’t know how intercourse works, and I’m afraid of it.
I feel that the hymen itself is shackling and imprisoning me.

I’m still in shock.
Perhaps it’s because she was the first woman I had sexual relations with.
Perhaps it’s because our sexual relationship developed so quickly.
Perhaps it’s because we separated so suddenly.
romantic relationships, sex, breakups