I was always very independent,
Ever since I was young.
I never did anything unless I believed in it.
I decided to start wearing the headscarf.
I did so out of conviction.
No one interfered in my decision.
social stigma, hijab, discrimination

Listen, love.
Your father and I let you do everything you want.
We don’t tell you what to wear and what not to wear.
We even let you wear short dresses.
Later on, when we you tell you what to wear,
We don’t want to hear any objections from you.

I have a problem with my body.
It suddenly got bigger and I felt the need to always hide it.
I had to hide my hair and my breasts.
And menstruation was the biggest secret of all.

My appearance is what’s stopping me from getting on stage.
I’ve even considered cosmetic surgery.
I’m learning script writing so that I could play my own self on stage.
I’ll write a play that talks about people like me.
I’ll find someone like me to play the leading role.

I’m passive, weak, uneducated.
Veiled from head to toe.
One of his four wives.
Work in the kitchen all day.
And spread my legs wide at night.
That’s what you think, right?

Ever since I was little,
I’ve always had “bad” hair.
It truly is bad hair.
It’s not curly.
It’s thin at the front,
And short and frizzy.

“Because you’re a girl.”
Many of the incidents that happen at home end with the phrase, “You’re a girl.”
When I decided to take the hijab off, I spent a year and a half trying to get my father’s permission
“What will people say?”
“It’s taboo.”
“What will they say?”

She stood, pretty as a picture,
In the midst of a place that despised beauty.
The eyes of the passengers, once cold and dead, were now filled with anger and jealousy.
Filled with unspoken words I’ve heard before.

How are you, Sara?
How are you doing, dear?
Sara is one of a kind.
She’s extremely well-mannered.
No one is perfect but Allah, of course.
But you’re honest, kind, and well-mannered.
But you’re not perfect.

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