My family was always very critical,
And they tended to make fun of people.
I was born with flawed joints.
I could walk very well and run and all that,
But when I stood,
My knees bent backward,
At first sight, it looked like my legs had been amputated.
My family always called me “Miss knees,”
And my mother always made fun of me in front of my siblings.
She thought I was inverting my knees like this on purpose.
She once even called me “disabled,”
And told me to straighten my knees.
I’m a country girl, unfortunately.
I am 27 years old.
I’ve been getting beaten up and humiliated since I was 3 years old.
I remember every blow, and the pain.
I still have scars on my body,
That serve as a constant reminder.
One time, an old lady sat next to me on the tram.
She kept looking at me.
“Are you engaged?” she asked.
“No.”
“Of course you’re not.”
“Excuse me?”
I don’t know where it’s going to happen next time.
I can’t predict who’s going to harass me next time.
Everyone’s a potential harasser.
They’re the reason I can’t tell anyone.
I was one of those girls who wore the hijab during Ramadan when I was young.
I wore it during middle school and high school,
Because they told us that if a man admires our hair when we’re fasting,
That nullifies both his fast and ours.
social pressure, social stigma
One of my friends was interested in me.
He wanted to do certain things with me.
masculinity, parents, social pressure
My looks didn’t concern me when I was entering into journalism.
I told myself that as soon as I speak and show my personality,
I’ll draw everyone’s attention.
I’m the boss.
Honestly, I used to get these negative thoughts;
Thoughts that are full of violence and rage.
It was as if I was waiting to explode and let everything out.
masculinity, social pressure