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 don’t like it when you tell me "clean shave" after I remove my facial hair.
I know I have facial hair like men do.
I also know that you say this as a joke, thinking it’s funny because I laugh when you say it.

It happened during an Arabic lesson,
Which took place at the library.
The teacher played a tape about the punishments of the grave.
I, in addition to another student, were the only Chrisitians in the classroom.
The sheikh on the tape was insulting Christianity.
So we excused ourselves from the library,
Because we didn’t like hearing those insults.

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.

Hair, The Street

I like my job, but I wish it was treated like any other job.
All jobs have evolved except ours.
Cooks have become chefs, doormen are now security guards…
But people still look down on our job.
We’re embarrassed to tell people we clean homes.
social pressure, social stigma, work, marriage

Is there something wrong with me?
Sometimes I feel like I’m a disgusting creature.
I buy something from the supermarket,
And the cashier places the change a good distance away from me,
So he won’t accidentally touch my hand.

I was one of those girls who wore the hijab during Ramadan when I was young.
I wore it during middle school and high school,
Because they told us that if a man admires our hair when we’re fasting,
That nullifies both his fast and ours.
social pressure, social stigma

He was the type of person who fooled around with his friends.
Our sex life was weak.
We’d do it about once a year and even then he’d be tired.
I used to tell him to get treated.
That we were still young and should enjoy our youth.
Honestly, he was really kind and sweet to me.
So, I didn’t say anything.

I used to always watch her from the examination room window in the government hospital that I worked at.
Her name was Sokkara. She was young. She couldn’t be older than 13 years old.

I’m a girl, and I’m bullied every day,
Because I wear a cross.
People give me mean looks.
I try my best to ignore them, but they’re too much.
I’ve never really reacted to anything they’ve done.
But the way they look at me, it’s like they’re asking, “How dare you wear a cross?”
social stigma, harassment, the street