“When I told my friends that you refused to hold my hand they asked me why I was still with you.”
“Then leave!” I exclaimed.

I’m a woman who has been struggling her entire life.
Ever since I was a little girl,
I’ve been struggling.
My father was a national railways inspector.
He passed away.
I got married to a man who came from a modest family.
I thought they’d care about my wellbeing.

“Tell me, dear.
Are there any potential suitors?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“We don’t have to talk about it.
Just tell me if there’s someone.

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.

I got married after 6 years of being in love.
During that time,
I found out he was cheating on me with the live-in maid,
Who took care of his mother.
I confronted him at first,
but he denied it.

Ever since I was a kid, I struggled to please everyone around me. I tried to look they way they wanted me to.
“Wear this”. Okay.
“Get a haircut”. Okay.
“Dancing isn’t allowed”. Okay.

I was the last one to get her period at school.
I was 15 years old.
It was just me and one other girl left.
Everyone thought getting their period was a big deal, but not 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.

When I was little, I used to play with boys and girls.
It was okay to play football with boys.
But when I came to Egypt, I found that girls and boys played separately.
I wasn’t allowed to play with boys.

I wore the hijab even though I wasn’t really convinced I should.
I was trying to please God, since it’s an obligation for Muslim women.
It was also a way of meeting society’s standards of being modest.