I’m in love with a man who means the world to me.
We’ve been together for 3 years.
He’s married and has children,
But I still love him.
romantic relationships, gender violence, social pressure

These are the eight scenes I remember from the crime that has left me scarred, psychologically and physically, since the age of ten.
The “cosmetic procedure” my mother made me undergo has made me hate this part of my body.
fgm, gender violence, social pressure

It didn’t feel normal or spontaneous.
Between being scolded by your conservative [female] relative for doing something “immodest” and listening to your friends whispering about touching certain [private] areas on maids’ and female cousins’ bodies, you eventually learn to associate the opposite sex’s body with shame.
There has got to be something shameful about it.

If, while baba was beating me, I cried, he’d hit me again for crying.
“If you cry, you’ll get hit. Men don’t cry”, he’d tell me.
Whenever he beat me, my main concern was to not cry.

Girls grow up a little bit every day.
They get taller,
Fatter,
And curvier.
They get ready for the day,
When they become ladies.

It was a family outing.
Almost everyone said,
“What’s wrong with your hair?”
“Straighten the frizz out of it.”
“Are you trying to be an eyesore on purpose?”
They were insensitive to my feelings as they made fun of me.
body image, hair, bullying, beauty standards, social pressure

I was fifteen years old.
I was visiting the countryside,
Where I went on a walk with my cousins and sisters.
Eid here is different.
One should not go out after noon.
I didn’t know that when I suggested going for a walk.

I thought I did something wrong.
I did something wrong because I’m pretty.
He followed me and did what he did because I’m pretty.

No one ever told me not to cry
But for some reason, I knew crying was shameful.
So, basically if you cry, you're not a real man.

Girls, I know that at this age, you like to flaunt your beauty.
“Look at my long hair!
Look at whatever!”
Here, you must forget about all those things.
The uniform you must wear is a galabiyya.
The kind your mothers wear.