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.

If you’re passing by a security checkpoint,
And you happen to have a girl in the car with you,
You’ll automatically get asked for your IDs and about your relationship to the girl,
No matter what she looks like or is wearing.
Even if she wears the niqab.

I was on the run for 5 years. I rarely stayed at home.
And when I did, I couldn’t go out into the balcony or look out the window.
I would sneak in and out of the house like a thief.
I was arrested one day when I didn’t know I was being watched.
prison, social stigma

After I left him,
I rented a place in a building that belonged to one of my friends,
Because my sister would call my ex to come over,
so I left her and swore I’d never set foot in her place again.
social stigma, divorce, sex work

I feel like my children have become uneasy around me because of the time I did in jail.
They don’t treat me like I’m their mother.
“Well, you have been to jail,” my siblings say.
“You act like someone who’s been in jail.”
social stigma, prison

Since Ramadan is coming up, I'd like to share my story as a Christian, Egyptian male born and raised in Egypt.
I remember one day in Ramadan, I thought I would dare society and drink water publicly.
I was stopped by an old man.
He had been walking and stopped. He pointed at me from across the street.
social stigma, social pressure, the street

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.

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

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.

I still can’t forget the look on his face as he passed me by in a toktok after he had touched me from behind.
“Take that”, he said.
That was the first time I was sexually harassed. I was 15.