I was just a simple girl who liked to escape reality through books.
That’s when I met a guy who was good with words.
He knew how to impress people with his charisma even though he wasn’t very handsome.
That was the beginning of my love story.
romantic relationships, mental health, depression, suicide

We got engaged, and then married.
My mother never talked to me about anything except on the day before the wedding.
It was the first time we talked about boys.
She was very calm as she told me what to do and that I shouldn’t upset him.
romantic relationships, marriage, sex, parents

Like any young man in Egypt, I dreamt of owning an apartment, starting a family, and settling down.
After I got married, God blessed me with the most beautiful girl in the world, then later on, a little boy.
My wife—the mother of my children—suddenly left after a conflict that rose between us.
She filed a lawsuit against me, in which she claimed that I damaged her property.
marriage, divorce, romantic relationships

The first time I found a white hair, I stood in front of the mirror for about 15 minutes trying to make sure it was real!
Is this really a white hair? Oh my God! I’m only 22!

I want you to get screwed over.
You’ll get screwed over.
I don’t want to screw you over, but I want you to get screwed over.
He’ll screw you over.
He’ll screw you over.

What’s he thinking of?
Does she have the right to say no?
Is it my right to pass judgement on her?
Is it her fault that she’s giving in to society’s standards?

Tell me! How do you men feel when you say such words? Do you ever mean it? What if it shows in your eyes and voice? How do you men fake it so well?  Or do you enjoy conquering us, and count us as yet another bounty?

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.

At the beginning, my husband treated me like a friend and wife.
He was like he was a friend, a brother, a husband, and a son to me. He was good to me.
Then, he changed.
He treated me like I was a man and only occasionally like a woman.
I thought he was cheating on me.
domestic violence, parents, work, marriage, divorce, romantic relationships

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.