I got breast reduction surgery,
Because I’m sick and tired of the things people say to me;
Men and women.
Walking down the street with my husband,
I hear things like,
“What huge breasts!”
And “He’s so lucky!”
I ask him not to fight with them.
I tell him it’s not worth it.
body image, sexual violence, gender violence, harassment, the street

“You’re dark-skinned,
But you’re funny.”
“People who are dark-skinned,
Have the best sense of humor.”
That’s what I’m always told at any gathering.
This is a kind of social stereotyping.

French teacher, bragging about her daughter's 50ish kgs perfect weight,
While my classmates, 15 y/o, join the discussion some being below that,
Some slightly above, but everyone in the room were of a normal weight except me,

My sister, who is 3 years younger than me,
Got her period 6 months before I did.
She was 11 years old then,
And I was 14.

I’m tall,
And a little chubby.
So what?
It’s not a crime.
But in our perfect, flawless society,
It’s a great opportunity,
For laughter,
And ha-has.
Sure, go ahead.

All my life I’ve been getting comments on my body;
“You’re fat!”
“You look like a door!”
All the time.
That I have to lose weight to be loved or to, at least, be accepted.
body image, bullying

My current weight is 70 kg,
And I’m 163 cm tall.
My weight used to be around 58 to 60 kg,
Never any more than that.
Then I went through a very difficult period in my life,
And I was expelled from university.

Both of my parents are dead,
And I live with my older sister.
I have many siblings:
Five sisters and two brothers.
They’re all married and have kids,
Except me.
When I gained weight,
They made me feel self-conscious about the way I looked.

The whole time I was walking down the street, I was afraid someone would touch me.
They were going to come from behind and pinch my ass, then laugh and make a run for it!
A repeat of a scenario that happened more than 8 years ago...

I was born with a birthmark on a specific part of my body.
It’s darker than the rest of my skin and bigger.
It’s made me avoid looking at my reflection in the mirror,
And I can’t wear the dresses I want to.

I always thought I was special.
Or at least that is how my parents made me feel.
I used to watch the older girls from a distance.
I watched them go through through their monthly agony: their period.