My hair is naturally straight and I wish it were curly.
My father loves it when I wear it down.
He doesn’t like it when I tie it back.
Sometimes I try to make it curl, prompting my mother to call me mankoosha [frizzy-headed].
“Don’t style it that way again.”
body image, hair, beauty standards

When I was a kid, before I had even turned 5,
My mom gave my black curly hair a pixie cut.
My sister’s friends always used to ask her,
“What’s your brother’s name?”
She’d draw their attention to my earrings and point out that I’m a girl.
body image, bullying, hair, beauty standards

Please accept my apologies for not accepting your existence for a long time and for trying to get rid of you.
I want you to know that your existence is comforting most of the time. 
I don’t want you to go anymore. 
You’ve been through a lot because of me.
body image, beauty standards

My family was always very critical,
And they tended to make fun of people.
I was born with flawed joints.
I could walk very well and run and all that,
But when I stood,
My knees bent backward,
At first sight, it looked like my legs had been amputated.
My family always called me “Miss knees,”
And my mother always made fun of me in front of my siblings.
She thought I was inverting my knees like this on purpose.
She once even called me “disabled,”
And told me to straighten my knees.

So I know I'm not that pretty,
But as you know, Arabs go head over heels for girls with pale faces and colored eyes,
And I happened to have those genes
-Although my sister doesn't and She always gets rude comments about it,

I look at my old clothes—
which I wore only a handful of times—
And I feel frustrated.
I try them all on.
I squeeze my new chubby body into them,
But to no avail.
It’s an attempt to prove I still fit into them.
Fine, I just want to fit into any of them at least,
So my mind could be at ease.

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.

My paternal grandmother always had a brush,
And loads of hair products ready with her to tame my “unruly”, unkempt hair.
She would sit me down on my knees,
pull at my hair painfully until it got detangled,
then she would apply a lot of hair cream,
pull my hair back into a bun or braid it,
Until the curls were no longer visible.

My entire family has soft, straight hair.
I’m the only one with curly hair.
“Why is your hair so ugly?” they also wondered.
My mother didn’t know how to take care of it.
Everyone used to compliment my sister’s beautiful hair and pity me.
body image, hair, beauty standards, bullying

I had thick hair as a child.
I hated how much it hurt when my mother washed, brushed, or braided it.
I could never wear it down like my sister, who had beautiful straight hair.
One time at the beach, when I was 15 years old, a tourist stopped and asked me,
“How do you make your hair curly like that?”
body image, hair, beauty standards, bullying