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’m really thin,
And I always get bullied because of my body type.
My friends are always joking about it and making fun of me.
I try to play along and pretend it doesn’t upset me,
but I can’t.
body image, bullying
I am a curly-haired girl.
Everyone calls my hair scraggly.
Everyone insists that I should straighten it,
But I don’t want to.
My cousin came to visit us one day.
“Why does your hair look like a toilet brush?”
he asked me when I opened the door.
body image, hair, beauty standards, bullying
I’m not the center of the universe. So, why do people pay so much attention to me?
Why do I always receive criticism from the people I live with and from the outside world about things that don’t concern them? Personal things about my personal life?
body image, bullying, beauty standards, social pressure
I was disgusted at the blood coming out of me.
I saw it the way they did: dirty blood.
Blood that forbade me from praying.
Blood that meant a woman couldn’t sleep with a man—or so say they say.
Blood that I tried to hide.
womahood, period, body image
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
I’ve had black circles under my eyes ever since I was young.
It’s genetic.
I also have bulging eyes.
I hated school,
Because of the way my friends looked at me,
Like they were making fun of me.
They saw me as less than them,
Because I don’t look normal.
The first time I got it,
I thought I had injured my privates.
The pain, the shock of seeing blood—it was all new to me.
I had no idea what was going on.
womanhood, body image, period
Brushing my hair as a child was a real burden to me.
My mother would pull it really hard when she brushed it.
It was as if she was punishing me for having “bad” hair.
Combing it was a difficult process.
“Your hair is disgusting. I’m sick of it,” she used to tell me.
She used to push me away if I cried because it hurt, saying,
“Get up. I won’t brush it for you.”
body image, hair, beauty standards, bullying