“You eat with your left hand?
That’s haram.
How could your parents let you do that?”

I’m a woman who has been struggling her entire life.
Ever since I was a little girl,
I’ve been struggling.
My father was a national railways inspector.
He passed away.
I got married to a man who came from a modest family.
I thought they’d care about my wellbeing.

A girl was walking to a supermarket near her house after iftaar  when a kid—no older than 18—said the most disgusting things to her as he fondled himself.

The first day of work went well.
I worked for a teacher at the mosque.
“Do whatever you can,” she said.
She’d check up on me every once in a while.
“Do you want some tea?”
“Are you hungry?
social pressure, work

I acted like I wasn’t disgusted, but I was disgusted!
I pretended I wasn't because I felt it would be shameful for me to be hurt when people judge my body and then turn around and judge your body!
In a perfect world, we’d love every body type.

For example, in a shaabi area,
You can’t walk with your arms around a woman.
You’d be asking for it if you did.
It’s okay to just walk alongside a woman,
But without any display of affection.
If you walk with your arms around a woman,
You’d never hear the end of it.

The first time I found a white hair, I stood in front of the mirror for about 15 minutes trying to make sure it was real!
Is this really a white hair? Oh my God! I’m only 22!

I know that a lot of women unknowingly enter into marriages with similar types of men, and that I was lucky and all that.
But I never imagined that something like that could ever happen to me.

I have no space.
I’m always tired.
I try to blend in.
But I always face the same issue:
I do what people want me to do,
Just to avoid problems.
social pressure

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?”