Having a prosthetic leg was never a problem for me.
It’s other people who had a problem with it.
I could see it in their eyes.
The things they say,
Their disapproving looks as I carry myself on crutches.
I lift one leg,
Pause,
And carry the other one.

My sister visited me at home two weeks ago.
She told me I was harming her and her son.
And that if anything bad happened to our mother, it’d be my fault.
She told me my whole life was wrong and unnatural.

First off, there are definitely a lot of people like me.
I’m a girl who struggles every day with the challenges this society presents to her, but I face these challenges with hard work and steadfastness.
Yes, with hard work and steadfastness. 

I gave birth to my first child.
I used to hear about postpartum depression.
I thought it happened due to the changing body.
But when I experienced it myself, I found out that there are more reasons behind it.
It felt as if I was battling a monster.
mental health, depression, postpartum depression, motherhood, social pressure, social stigma

I have always been a little chubby, ever since I was a little kid.
I started to develop breasts as a teenager.
The condition I have is called “gynecomastia”, or “enlarged breast tissue in men”.
Although it’s prevalent among men, I was subject to a lot of ridicule from classmates.

It all started in 2005.
My husband hadn’t got a raise yet and I had 5 children.
We were tight on money because my husband wasn’t making enough.
I thought I should find another source of income to take care of my children’s expenses.
prison, divorce, social stigma

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.

I always thought that a girl who was a virgin
Would look different from a girl who wasn’t.
For a long time, I wondered what the difference might be.

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.

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