I was the only girl in an office full of men.
Sometimes, I’d have to work for twelve hours straight.
I’d get so exhausted when I got my period that I’d sometimes faint.
It’s not reasonable for me to get exhausted every month,
So I devised a story about how there’s something wrong with my kidneys.

She stood, pretty as a picture,
In the midst of a place that despised beauty.
The eyes of the passengers, once cold and dead, were now filled with anger and jealousy.
Filled with unspoken words I’ve heard before.

“Because you’re a girl.”
Many of the incidents that happen at home end with the phrase, “You’re a girl.”
When I decided to take the hijab off, I spent a year and a half trying to get my father’s permission
“What will people say?”
“It’s taboo.”
“What will they say?”

I called Tante Hoda and quickly realized that the whole school and Kuwait thing wasn’t real.
I could’ve told my auntie that I knew what she was trying to do,
But I wanted to put an end to all future attempts at finding me a husband.
So I went to the club and met auntie, Tante Hoda and the suitor—tall, with glasses, and eyes on the floor.

A relative of mine who works in construction,
Decided to take me to work with his brother-in-law.
Back then, I was in middle school.
Around 12 years old.
I hadn’t worked a day in my life,
And now I was to start work in August?
Everyone in Aswan knows what the sun’s like in August.
masculinity, social pressure, work

I come from a conservative, traditional, and somewhat wealthy, capitalist family.
They appreciate a woman’s right to an education and a career, but only under the supervision of the family.
When it comes to marriage, it must be with the total consensus and control of the family.

Being a woman is hard. Really hard.
Everything is exhausting.
It requires tremendous effort just to live a normal life.

So living here in the prime of life,
I finally saw this society for what it is.
Its double standards.
I’m sure a lot of you have been on the receiving end of it,
but for those who have NO clue what I’m talking about, Let me explain:

Whenever I see my grandma, she grabs my finger and asks me the same question every time,
“When are you going to make me happy?”
“You’re not happy?”
“No.”
“How can I make you happy?”
“By getting married.”
“But what about my own happiness?”

It doesn’t matter at all.
I don’t mind if he marries another woman,
And visits me once a week,
Or even once a month!