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.
My siblings act like I got a divorce to become their personal servant.
They abuse my help.
Even my brother decided to say something about it: “So, just because she’s had rotten luck and had to come back here, you all decide to make her do everything alone?”
social stigma, parents, parents
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.
"Aside from anything else,
I need to have sex.
Can you tell me what to do?
I'm a divorced lady with two kids,
and I just need to have sex.
What am I supposed to do?”
That day, I sat there and pretended to play by myself because I was alone,
My neighbors weren’t talking to me that day.
At the time my neighbors were my group of friends: Manara, Nesma, Shaimaa.
They were sisters.
I was eight years old.
I was playing in the streets,
Where a sixty year old man used to sell honey.
He would get us honey every month.
That time there was no one at home.
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.
I have to sit a certain way, I can't move my hands when I speak.
I can't cry around people, and if someone hits me, I have to hit them back. These are just a few examples of things I should do if I want "to be a man."
I’m still going to be myself, no matter how much this costs me and no matter how many times people tell me that I'm "not a man."
We’re usually betrayed by the people closest to us.
The people who worked with me had been with me for 13 years.
We were friends and business partners.
They would give me money to invest for them.
We worked together for 13 years.
Then we had a disagreement.
prison, social stigma
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