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.
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 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.
“Tell me, dear.
Are there any potential suitors?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“We don’t have to talk about it.
Just tell me if there’s someone.
Three years ago, on the same day as the death of my closest and best friend,
My first love and fiance walked out of my life without any prior warning.
He broke up with me via a single message sent over Whatsapp
depression, mental health, romantic relationships
It felt as if I was in a wrestling match.
That his purpose was to invade and destroy everything.
That he had no intention to listen.
That survival was for the fittest.
Ahmed: “What do you think of that hottie over there?”
Amr: “Which one? The veiled one?
I love veiled women.”
Ahmed: “Really?
Why?”
Amr: “You know when you get a wrapped present,
And you take your time unwrapping it?”
Ahmed: “I’m talking about the girl walking with her, man.
Of course I wasn’t talking about that woman over there.
She looks like the potential brides my mother makes me meet.”
Amr: “Your mother makes you meet potential brides?”
Ahmed: “Yeah, man.
All the time.
She thinks they’re all like her,
Or will be like her in exactly two years.
I’ve stopped meeting them,
So, now she sends me their pictures on Facebook.”
Aly was honest at the beginning of their relationship.
He told Farida not to expect him to settle down,
Or for them to be in a traditional relationship.
He was open-minded,
More so than any other man Farida had met.