You’re a slut.
You travel with boys.
You smoke.
And your paintings?!
You brought us shame,
Don’t come back home.
I had a recurring dream when I was young,
That my mother wasn’t actually my mother,
And that my father was married to another woman,
Who looked exactly like my mother.
I don’t know why I kept having this dream.
Maybe because my mother was very hard on me,
And my father was kind.
Everyone used to say that he spoiled me.
But I didn’t see it that way.
He used to shout all the time,
And my mother used to hit me,
So I’d grow up to be a proper housewife.
I entered the women’s metro car, and as usual, found men there.
Usually I fight them, but that day I wasn’t feeling well, so I said nothing.
I’m 24 years old.
I’ve had low self-esteem ever since I was 13 because of my weight.
People always stare at me and make fun of me because I’m fat.
“Will you be the one breastfeeding the kids when you’re married?”
body image, social stigma, bullying
Everyone believes that this piece of fabric not only covers my head, but my brain too, affecting its ability to function intellectually.
I’m always told that my actions and ideas don’t befit my headscarf.
People always expect me to act like a nun, and to always defend the headscarf and the conduct of every covered female.
I gave birth to my son 10 months later.
I felt like my life was passing me by.
All I was was a woman with 5 kids.
Everyone wanted a piece of me.
prison, child marriage, romantic relationships, divorce, social stigma
I’m happy I made Hassan furious in court.
He looked furious, ready to explode.
I was scared in court.
When the judge asked me why I wanted a divorce,
I said that I felt we were incompatible.
Hassan looks older than he is.
The trial was postponed,
But I’m happy that I made him furious today.
I was scared,
But I tried to ignore my fear.
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.
My hair is curly,
And I love it.
I’m tired of the stupid things people say to me.
Going out is one of the worst experiences ever.
I feel a knot in my stomach whenever I’m about to go out.
I don’t know if this is social anxiety.
I have self-confidence,
And I love my hair.
I wish people would accept differences.
In elementary school,
I wanted to take karate and swimming lessons.
But mama refused, because I was a girl and it was inappropriate.
social stigma, social pressure