Girls grow up a little bit every day.
They get taller,
They get ready for the day,
When they become ladies.
I’m a guy.
I was ten years old at the time.
We were living in a family house,
Which meant I was oftentimes left alone with other family members.
They’d tell me they were just going to play with my toys,
But we never actually played with them.
She committed a sin.
Her parents have been angry with her ever since.
It hurts knowing that if she were a guy,
They wouldn’t have treated her that way.
I learned one day that my neighbor whom I used to play with was getting married.
She was almost 16 years old.
“I’ve got something that my husband will take from me and throw away tomorrow morning,” she said.
I have no space.
I’m always tired.
I try to blend in.
But I always face the same issue:
I do what people want me to do,
Just to avoid problems.
Because she wanted her own place.
She wanted to live.
That’s what a marriage contract was to her: freedom.
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 like my job, but I wish it was treated like any other job.
All jobs have evolved except ours.
Cooks have become chefs, doormen are now security guards…
But people still look down on our job.
We’re embarrassed to tell people we clean homes.
social pressure, social stigma, work, marriage