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?
When you would try to touch me,
I felt like you couldn’t see me.
You could only see the body you were about to touch.
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 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.
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 loved him.
I was separated then.
I had a unique personality and was respected by everyone.
He was controlling and isolated me from my friends and family.
physical violence, gender violence, breakups, romantic relationships
One day, he made the sudden decision to get rid of our television, claiming that it was “brainwashing and influencing” me.
Another time, after our first fight, he took my mobile away.
“You’re never seeing this phone again.”
He was so angry that I was afraid he’d do something to me.