In middle school,
I used to love wearing shorts and dancing in front of the mirror.
My mother would smack me.
I wore the hijab when I was 17 years old.
I wasn’t influenced by Amr Khaled.
I got really emotional and exclaimed,
“I swear to God I’m not leaving this house without the hijab!”
I wasn’t a member of the community that called itself “The Righteous Companions.”
Ali: “Fuck that, how could my wife wear a swimsuit like this one?
And stand in front of men, while they look at her thighs?
Does it not bother you, Sherif, the idea of your wife wearing a swimsuit?”
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.
My life now takes place entirely between four walls.
I don’t go out. I don’t go anywhere.
I don’t know what people want from me.
I just want peace. I want someone to tell me words of comfort.
I want someone to ask me what’s hurting me.
prison, marriage, divorce, social stigma, social pressure
You’re a slut.
You travel with boys.
You smoke.
And your paintings?!
You brought us shame,
Don’t come back home.
“You have a girly voice, and you have girly-looking fingers”.
“Why do you have boobs? You need to eat a lot of eggs”.
“You have hair as soft-looking as a girl’s”.
masculinity, social pressure, body image