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?

We would sometimes look at each other and not say anything.
We knew what we did, but we didn’t talk about it.
It’s funny how the whole thing passed smoothly just because we didn’t talk about it.
But if the same thing had happened with other people and they talked about it,
It could have made a huge difference in their relationship.

I woke up this morning feeling like… yes, shit!
I stood in front of my mirror and refused to accept the reflection it gave me.
Yes, I am indeed talking about another heartbreak.
Sleepless nights, puffy eyes, and so on.
And you have to sit right there,
And listen to me talk about it,
Because no one else would.

After a certain age,
A girl no longer has the freedom to choose a suitable person to marry.

You said I was only pretending to be a liberal,
And I turned out to be a conservative woman who had issues,
Just like any other Egyptian woman.
You said that because I refused to do what you wanted.

I stopped hearing about her a long time ago.
When I found out that she was in a relationship,
With someone who was prepared for marriage,
And that they were intending to get married,
I withdrew in a nice manner and wished her all the best.
I mean I know my luck:
I am always too late.

"No, Hatem is such a girl. He's shy and doesn't like talking about asses and boobs and stuff like that!"

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.

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.

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