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 called Tante Hoda and quickly realized that the whole school and Kuwait thing wasn’t real.
I could’ve told my auntie that I knew what she was trying to do,
But I wanted to put an end to all future attempts at finding me a husband.
So I went to the club and met auntie, Tante Hoda and the suitor—tall, with glasses, and eyes on the floor.
I’m still in shock.
Perhaps it’s because she was the first woman I had sexual relations with.
Perhaps it’s because our sexual relationship developed so quickly.
Perhaps it’s because we separated so suddenly.
romantic relationships, sex, breakups
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.
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.
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 went to her place.
Her mom greeted me and let me know that she was going to run some errands.
Until she was back, we had the house to ourselves.
Her and I.
I’m starting to believe that men see women merely as something that serves their pleasure.
Very few of them treat women as human beings,
Who have their own dreams, and desires,
And could be useful in things other than pleasure.
And you should ask me about men,
Because she who raises a monkey knows their games!
gender violence, hijab, romantic relationships, parents, social pressure, sex, body image, sexuality, consent