I don’t want to have a big wedding and spend a lot of money on it.
I don’t want a big dress or heavy makeup that I know I won’t like.
I don’t want to get married in a wedding hall I don’t like and receive gifts I don’t want.

My story isn’t about physical or emotional abuse.
I got married when I was 21 years old.
He was the first man I ever spoke to.
That’s how we were raised.
I took very good care of myself.

“I want to tell you something,
I’m just not sure how to say it,” he said.
He paused and then said,“Noha, you have AIDS.”
“And you?”
He said he didn’t have it.
“Fine,” I said, “What am I going to do.”

I was eighteen years old,
When my father would hit me and tell me,
“Will you answer back to your husband like this?”
“Will my husband hit me and treat me like this? I asked him.
“He’s going to beat you into pieces.
And if you come running to me,
I’ll send you back to him,” he replied.
domestic violence; physical violence; gender violence; parents; marriage

But listen to me here: let him be in control.
There’s no yes or no.
Here, women don’t talk about these things.
You must only do as he says.

“How’s it going, dear?”
“No good news for us?”
“No baby on the way?”
“I’ll give you the most important piece of advice:
Take good care of your home and husband.

I married him twenty years ago.
Not a single year passed by without beatings, humiliation, scandals, and divorce.
He’s stingy and horrible.
He humiliates me in front of everyone.
He’s sick.
He has a terrible personality,
And he’s weak.
He doesn’t even perform his marital obligations—
He can’t do it.
He always finds something to hold over my head.
I’m fed up with him.

Every time I felt agonizing loneliness
Even when lying next to him.
Every time he promised me he’d be a reliable source of support, and he wasn’t.
Every time I told myself that I’m living this life alone
Even though I’ve got a man, supposedly.
romantic relationships, divorce, marriage

I got married after a 6-year love story.
He was everything to me.
I insisted on him, despite the large socio-economic gap between us.
“He won’t be able to support you on that salary. They’re not like us,” my family said.
gender violence, sexual violence, marriage, divorce

She’ll welcome you with a wide smile: “Hair or beard?”
Then she will burst out laughing: “We’re barbers too, but female barbers!”.
Most probably this is how you’ll get to know Hayam, through her “hair or beard” question.
She won’t care if this is your first time or your hundredth.