I was attending a funeral where everyone was in tears.
The widower sat next to me and tearfully asked me,
“When are you going to get married?”

Her parents kept her locked up at home.
Her computer was always being watched.
Her job was located near her house.
She wasn’t allowed out on her own.
She was 33 years old.

We were on our way back from a trip.
An officer got on the bus.
“Is she your sister?” he asked the person next to me.
“No, we’re friends,” he replied.
“Friends? What kind of friends?”

It all started with a push up bra.
Yes, ladies and gentlemen, a push up bra!
It was my graduation gift from my mother.
“Ma, I’m not going to wear this! No way!”
“Why? You can't go around looking flat like that!”

“Be careful while crossing the street.”
“Don’t take flowers from strangers.”
“Don’t walk down dark streets.”
The things I especially could never forget were,
“Don’t walk like a girl! Walk like a man!”

Since Ramadan is coming up, I'd like to share my story as a Christian, Egyptian male born and raised in Egypt.
I remember one day in Ramadan, I thought I would dare society and drink water publicly.
I was stopped by an old man.
He had been walking and stopped. He pointed at me from across the street.
social stigma, social pressure, the street

Walk like a soldier.
Don’t you know how soldiers walk?
Eyes straight.
Back straight.
No swaying.

My cousin keeps turning my family against me.
“How could a girl travel alone?
What is she doing in Cairo?
She can’t travel alone, and she can’t work in Cairo.

There are a lot of women going through the same experience as I am.
It’s dealing with oppression due to the molds we put ourselves in.
social pressure, marriage, romantic relationships

I want to be free.
I want to write whatever I want.
But all married women now have red lines they can’t cross.
“Now that we live together, you have to forget about writing,”
They’re told as soon as they get married.