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.

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?

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.

My first job was a receptionist
One of the engineers in the office came after me every single day for six weeks
Kept saying he loves me, and have never seen anyone like me before
I started feelings for him.
romantic relationships, work

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.

I don’t have the right to ask about your past.
But I think it’s important to talk about this.
There’s no such thing as a woman’s virginity.
There’s no difference between a man and a woman’s virginity.

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?

It all started with a push up bra.
Yes, ladies and gentlemen, a push up bra!
It was my graduation gift from my mother.
“Ma, I’m not going to wear this! No way!”
“Why? You can't go around looking flat like that!”

Every time I felt agonizing loneliness
Even when lying next to him.
Every time he promised me he’d be a reliable source of support, and he wasn’t.
Every time I told myself that I’m living this life alone
Even though I’ve got a man, supposedly.
romantic relationships, divorce, marriage

I was six or seven years old.
Mama wanted me to learn a musical instrument, so I chose the piano.
She looked for a place that could teach me and found an instructor at the club.
They arranged for me and my brother to take lessons with him.