“When do you plan on getting married?” my father, aunts, uncles, and cousins always ask me.
Or if we’re at a wedding, they always say ou’balik [may you be next].
I wonder how the elders of the family would react if I walked around at funerals and poked them, saying “Ou’balik!”

They always say that women have to endure and bear shit.
They have to endure and endure.
Okay.
Yes, sir.
As you say.
Yes, yes, yes!

We were all girls like you once.
I was a young girl just like you before marrying your father.
We all went through the same things.
We’d just play sports and take a cold shower.

What’s he thinking of?
Does she have the right to say no?
Is it my right to pass judgement on her?
Is it her fault that she’s giving in to society’s standards?

I learned to love him over the years,
as I watched him become a human being:
learning to talk
and becoming stubborn, bright, artistic, and funny.

No one would have told me:
“That’s a really effeminate way of sitting.”
“Why do you cross your legs when you sit?”

It was me and two or three other girls on the bus.
Two of them were veiled and one was wearing the niqab.
We were all standing in a corner.
We were surrounded by men.
There was a man sitting with his legs wide open and laughing loudly.
It was as if he was the owner of the bus and could act any way he liked.

No, no, no, no, you need to go to the hairdresser’s.
You are Egyptian now like us!
We just want...you know... for you to look cute and pretty.
Come on, especially so we can find you a man!

“You have a girly voice, and you have girly-looking fingers”.
“Why do you have boobs? You need to eat a lot of eggs”.
“You have hair as soft-looking as a girl’s”.
masculinity, social pressure, body image

Why are you looking at me now?
Where were you before?
I’ve been around for years.
Have I done nothing worthy of your attention other than wearing this ring?