The heroine of my story, is a 34-year-old female.
Unmarried, beautiful, highly educated with a PhD, well-mannered, and open-minded.
Her major sin, which she will keep paying for throughout her life, is that she is over 30 and unmarried.

“Don’t listen to him.
Your body is not defined by kilograms and centimeters.
Your body does not define you.
You’re beautiful.
You’re more beautiful than you and others think.
You’re talented and smart.
Your value is not determined by a number on a scale or by your clothing size.”

Her family thought she was a slut.
They thought she had sex with him.

Her sister was positive she did something bad with him.
Otherwise she wouldn’t be insisting on marrying him.
She must be trying to cover up what she did.

Why are you late, missy?
What time is it?
You come home every day at 2 or 3 in the morning.

“You eat with your left hand?
That’s haram.
How could your parents let you do that?”

Good Lord, I haven't been asked that question in a while.
 Maybe because people are entirely convinced that any woman who covers her head does so for one of the following reasons:
- Amr Khaled, the super famous Islamic preacher
- Her parents
- People on the street
- To get married

I work in a pharmacy.
One day an old lady walked in with her daughter.
“Assalam alikum. Are you a miss or a mrs.?”
“I’m the pharmacist,” I replied, “Can I help you?”
She asked for some pills.
Then I heard her telling her daughter:
“It’s alright to ask her.”

They always say that women have to endure and bear shit.
They have to endure and endure.
Okay.
Yes, sir.
As you say.
Yes, yes, yes!

There is a voice in my head that says,
“You gotta stick up for yourself.
How can you not do anything?
Beat them up!
You gotta fight back.”

You know, if you weren’t a public figure that appears on TV,
And who talks about women’s rights in the papers,
I would’ve loved you, married you, and made you quit your job to be a housewife.”