I called Tante Hoda and quickly realized that the whole school and Kuwait thing wasn’t real.
I could’ve told my auntie that I knew what she was trying to do,
But I wanted to put an end to all future attempts at finding me a husband.
So I went to the club and met auntie, Tante Hoda and the suitor—tall, with glasses, and eyes on the floor.

I’m in love with a man who means the world to me.
We’ve been together for 3 years.
He’s married and has children,
But I still love him.
romantic relationships, gender violence, social pressure

I found myself forgetting about the music,
And the fitting Fayrouz lyrics streaming from my earphones.
Forgetting about the book in my hands,
And forgetting my desire to improve my English.
I gazed at her face.

I come from a conservative, traditional, and somewhat wealthy, capitalist family.
They appreciate a woman’s right to an education and a career, but only under the supervision of the family.
When it comes to marriage, it must be with the total consensus and control of the family.

I went to my shrink and told her there was a hole inside of me.
Prescribe something, anything. I'm not happy feeling this way.
It's like someone plunged their hand deep inside, took something, and left.

We’re not allowed to laugh in public.
We’re not allowed to be happy or dance in public.
We’re not allowed to sing in public.
We’re not even allowed to cry in public.
We’re not allowed to do anything in public.

"No, Hatem is such a girl. He's shy and doesn't like talking about asses and boobs and stuff like that!"

Inside me exists a traditional girl,
Whom I call Souad.
Souad dreams of meeting “the one”.
She wants a groom, a wedding, etc.
She lives in this fantasy world,
And dreams up every little detail of her wedding.
And when she listens to certain songs,
She imagines dancing to them at her wedding in her white dress.
romantic relationships, marriage

I used to straighten my hair all the time.
I was in a relationship, but we broke up.
After the break up, I decided to embrace my natural hair.
My ex-boyfriend and I got back together.
I straightened it twice for him.
I once told him I was going to wear my natural hair that day.
“What?! You’re going to go out looking like that?!” he exclaimed.
body image, hair, beauty standards, romantic relationships, marriage

I ran away from you the first time you tried to kiss me.
“You’re a coward!” you said.
I was scared.
Scared of myself.
There was a voice in my head telling me,
“Are you sure you want to get so close to him?”
I was hurt by everyone I got close to.