Normally, no one attended classes, but everyone showed up for this one: the lesson on reproduction.
The classroom was packed.
Students from other classes even joined our class for the lesson.
Apparently some boys made it their mission to attend every one of these lessons.

I’m 32 years old.
I’m divorced, and I don’t have any children.
When I turned 32, everyone pressured me into getting married.
I honestly wasn’t really looking forward to it.

“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.

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 know that a lot of women unknowingly enter into marriages with similar types of men, and that I was lucky and all that.
But I never imagined that something like that could ever happen to me.

Husband: That’s marriage for you. Pure headache.
I was happy hanging out with my friends.
(snorting drugs)
Wife: What are you doing?
Husband: I’m not doing anything.
(hides the plate)
romantic relationships, marriage, social pressure

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 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

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.

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?