After a certain age,
A girl no longer has the freedom to choose a suitable person to marry.

When I’m alone, pondering my rejection of this rotten, patriarchal world, I wonder if my opinions truly are extreme.
I mean, so what if my uncle divorced his wife five times?
And what's wrong with my other uncle being married to three women at the same time?
And why is it a big deal that my aunt was once beaten up with a pair of flip flops for refusing to make a cup of tea for her
husband, who was lazing in front of the TV watching a football match while she was busy scrubbing the bathroom floor?

You said I was only pretending to be a liberal,
And I turned out to be a conservative woman who had issues,
Just like any other Egyptian woman.
You said that because I refused to do what you wanted.

I went to her place.
Her mom greeted me and let me know that she was going to run some errands.
Until she was back, we had the house to ourselves.
Her and I.

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.

At school, boys and girls were separated.
The boys would watch the girls going home,
And choose one to send a letter to.
Then they’d be together.

My whole life I have felt that there is something wrong with me,
Or that something is missing.
Something everyone has, but I don’t.
Something that always makes me shy and unable to talk to people.

Why don’t I trust my body?
When I felt comfortable with you, why didn’t I believe that I was actually in love?
I didn’t believe the touch of the hand or my head resting on your shoulder.
Or when you lifted me off the ground so we could dance.

I woke up this morning feeling like… yes, shit!
I stood in front of my mirror and refused to accept the reflection it gave me.
Yes, I am indeed talking about another heartbreak.
Sleepless nights, puffy eyes, and so on.
And you have to sit right there,
And listen to me talk about it,
Because no one else would.

The reason why the poetess wants to leave her busy life behind and focus on simpler things hasn’t been determined yet.
But I’m sure that I don’t want people around me to assume that my interests are trivial just because I’m a woman.
Or because of the way I look.