I’m a 17 year old boy.
I used to be made fun of all the time for being thin.
I wasn’t remarkably thin or frail,
My weight was optimal,
Not a pound heavier and not a pound lighter.
It wasn’t just society that made fun of my body,
Unfortunately, I was made fun of at home.
body image, bullying, family

We’re looking for a bride.
One who’s beautiful.
What do we mean by beautiful?
We mean one with fair skin and straight hair.
It’s as if we’re picking out a doll.
I don’t know who set those standards,
And why we’re made to follow them.
body image, hair, beauty standards

I never liked makeup.
I never liked how it felt on my skin.
Ever since middle school,
I’ve had a huge acne problem.
I’ve been to countless doctors,
But whatever solutions they provide are temporary.
The acne on my face always comes back.
body image, beauty standards, bullying

Dear breasts, or my breasts,
Or as my friend at school calls you: “Susu” and “Nunu”,
Why are you so big?
Who made you this big?
You’re annoying.
My back hurts because of you.
body image

When I was little,
I didn’t like my face,
Because I had a big nose.
You laughed, didn’t you?
That’s understandable.
But it really hurts.
Your comments about the way I look kill me,
And believe me,
I’ll never show that I’m upset.
On the contrary,
I might even joke about my appearance along with you.

“How are you in high school?
If I didn’t know, I’d say you’re in the third grade at the most!”
“Aren’t you going to gain some weight?
How are you going to go to university looking like this?”
body image, bullying 

I’ve always loved curly hair,
But I never knew how to maintain it.
I didn’t even know my hair was considered curly.
I just thought it was always frizzy because I never took care of it.
I got a protein treatment once,
And on that day, the hairdresser washed it and dried it with a blow dryer.
body image, hair, bullying, beauty standards

Every single day,
People passing me by in the street,
Shout insults at me:
“Blackie!”
“Shikabala!”
“Why’s it dark all of the sudden?”
“Disgusting!”

Remember? Remember the first time you saw a woman dance?
Do you remember?
Maybe at a wedding? Or in a film?

I’m a girl like any other girl,
But unfortunately,
Society doesn’t consider me to be like any other girl,
Because I’m cross eyed.
When someone jokes about it,
Either to me or someone else,
It causes me a lot of pain.
It’s true they’re only joking around,
But it cuts me to the core.