I’m 41 years old.
It’s a frightening number, I know.
But what’s more frightening is that I haven’t accomplished anything worth mentioning.
I struggle every day to cover my expenses.
It might sound easy,
But it’s actually difficult for someone who’s starting from scratch.
social pressure, work
I gave birth to my first child.
I used to hear about postpartum depression.
I thought it happened due to the changing body.
But when I experienced it myself, I found out that there are more reasons behind it.
It felt as if I was battling a monster.
mental health, depression, postpartum depression, motherhood, social pressure, social stigma
My problem is that I’m a kind and decent person.
The kind of person who thinks of others before acting, who puts himself in their shoes.
I literally have no friends, and I live far away from my family.
I even work online, so in a way, I don’t interact with people at all.
You’re not missing much.
It’s really not enjoyable.
No kind of pleasure whatsoever.
He’ll make weird faces and you’ll lie there doing nothing.
It only takes 3 minutes.
My first divorce was because I wouldn't have sex with him,
But there were a lot of things I didn’t understand.
My family didn’t tell me anything.
I didn’t know anything at all.
To the extent that I wasn’t quite sure what the bridal cloth was for.
domestic violece; gender violence; physcial violence; sex; motherhood; addiction; social pressure; marriage; divorce
Hello.
Sara.
Where are you?
Still at work?
What are people going to say?
How could a respectable lady be out this late?
Noha and I are old friends.
Right before she and I started wearing the hijab, we went to rent a beach house.
Our hair was down and we were wearing summer clothes.
I can’t begin to tell you how well they treated us.
They were very respectful.
I once fell down the stairs and broke my leg.
My leg was extremely swollen when I went to the hospital.
It was just my luck that the doctor who examined me was the type who avoided looking at women.
I used to beat up the boys with me in class until primary school.
I was tall,
Had a big belly,
And the boys hadn’t reached puberty yet.
They used to call me the “big girl.”
Because she wanted her own place.
She wanted to live.
That’s what a marriage contract was to her: freedom.