Mama likes to make remarks about everything:
“Why do you look like that?”
“Why do you look pale?”
“Why are there dark circles under your eyes?”
“Why are there dark spots around your mouth?”
“Why are you eating like that?”
“Why are your fingers so long?”
My hair grew out very dry and curly.
Mama didn’t know how to deal with it.
She tried oils and creams.
My hair was in braids all during my childhood.
I never let my hair down.
I never felt the wind in my hair.
My maternal aunts made fun of me
body image, hair, beauty standards, bullying, hijab
I’ve always had curly hair. I hated it as a child.
I thought there was something wrong with it.
I’d pray to God to make my hair straight.
I made peace with my hair when I grew up.
That’s when I liked having curly hair.
But it’s the people around me who make me feel that something is wrong with it.
beauty standards, bullying, hair, body image
We live in a society,
That determines whether you’ll be accepted or not,
Based on your weight,
Hair type,
Eye color,
And skin tone.
I grew up hating my hair.
It was very painful when my mother,
Would try to brush it.
Whenever I tried to be okay with it,
People at school, family and family friends would make fun of me.
I always thought I was adopted,
Or maybe I wasn’t their daughter….
I’m the eldest of my siblings,
I was born normally,
With olive skin and curly hair.
But I was seen as dark-skinned, ugly, and with coarse hair.
Things got worse when my younger sister was born three years later.
She was born with pale skin and straight hair.
I’m a guy.
I was ten years old at the time.
We were living in a family house,
Which meant I was oftentimes left alone with other family members.
They’d tell me they were just going to play with my toys,
But we never actually played with them.
I have always been overweight,
And my family comments about my body all the time.
I used to feel like I was public property,
That anyone could look at me and my body and call me,
“Fat” or “chubby”.
I was the butt of jokes at family gatherings,
Which I hated more than anything.
body image, beauty standards, bullying, marriage
Ever since I was young,
I was told that I’m not pretty,
Because I’m fat,
And that I shouldn’t eat too much,
Because I’d get even fatter.
I was told that it was gluttonous,
And unfeminine.
The first time he hit me was the day I found out I was pregnant.
He picked a fight with me when his friend and his wife were having dinner with us,
And I fried the mombar (a kind of sausage dish),
Before the chicken breasts.
He pulled me by my hair,
And dragged me to the stove,
And threatened to set me on fire to get rid of me.