It felt as if I was in a wrestling match.
That his purpose was to invade and destroy everything.
That he had no intention to listen.
That survival was for the fittest.

My father was the first person to touch me.
I used to tell myself that I was imagining it.
When he’d touch me with his leg from behind,
I’d tell myself he was just being playful.

When you would try to touch me,
I felt like you couldn’t see me.
You could only see the body you were about to touch.

I don’t have the right to ask about your past.
But I think it’s important to talk about this.
There’s no such thing as a woman’s virginity.
There’s no difference between a man and a woman’s virginity.

Listen here, boys. I dismissed the girls because I know you have some questions.
Write your questions on a piece of paper, fold it and give it to me. I’ll answer your questions.
This questions reads: How do I stop masturbating?

You’re not missing much.
It’s really not enjoyable.
No kind of pleasure whatsoever.
He’ll make weird faces and you’ll lie there doing nothing.
It only takes 3 minutes.

My story is the story of hundreds of people.
The story is that of differences.
The difference that isn’t allowed,
Which you’re scared of and hate,
Because you know it’s haram.

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.

We were walking down the street, holding hands.
A man passed us by and laughed in derision.
“What are you in love or something?”
social stigma, sexuality, harassment, the street

There are a lot of things I don’t have a problem with.
I’m an open-minded liberal.
But I never imagined this would happen to me or anyone I know.
With a blank look on my face, I told her/him, “No, I can’t.”
And I ran out of the room.