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 was 14 in middle school, my teenage years, and I thought with my emotions a lot.
I talked to the first person that I liked and got to know him.
The happiest moments of my life were the hours I’d steal before or after class to talk to him.

I was in the third grade and we took the same bus to school.
He was fair-skinned and had rosy cheeks.
He had thick, soft, jet black hair.
He had thick eyebrows and piercing eyes.
He was the class and bus clown.
He was that kid who joked around all the time.
I loved him.
romantic relationships, school

"How’s your love life?” she asked.
I forced a laugh.
The question embarrassed me.
She insisted that I was a romantic and that apparently my whole family were romantics.
"You know,” she began, “if you want to get married, I could bring you a lot of suitors to meet.”

I have an alter ego named Adalaat.
Adaalat only recently started to make an appearance after years of me being poorly treated.
Adaalat gets me riled up every time him and I have a fight.
romantic relationships

“The best thing about you is your tan,” he’d always tell me.
“What tan?” I’d laugh, “I am as dark as chocolate.”
“And I’m crazy about chocolate” he’d respond adoringly.

You can’t go out alone. I have to be with you.
I have to be there even if you go out with your friends.

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 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 now understand why they say: “When poverty knocks at the door, love flies out of the window.”
I work, I cook, I wash, I clean, and I take care of the baby.
I just can’t do it anymore.
I want a break from my life.