That day, I sat there and pretended to play by myself because I was alone,
My neighbors weren’t talking to me that day.
At the time my neighbors were my group of friends: Manara, Nesma, Shaimaa.
They were sisters.

I hugged my friend out in public because he needed it, and because I needed it too.
When I heard the comments, I pulled away from him by saying, “What’s this? You’re crying?”
But I had wanted to keep on hugging him until he had let it all out.
I wanted to hug him without fearing or worrying what passersby would say.

Having a prosthetic leg was never a problem for me.
It’s other people who had a problem with it.
I could see it in their eyes.
The things they say,
Their disapproving looks as I carry myself on crutches.
I lift one leg,
Pause,
And carry the other one.

I got out of the Opera Station and I was searching for a taxi when all of a sudden someone touched my behind. When I turned to look, I saw a man in his 40s walking along, as if nothing had happened.

I have been suffering, even before I got married, from a disease in my uterus.
It prevents me from having children.
I underwent several operations in the hopes that, one day, I could be a mother.
The disease also induced other health-related problems.
Being sterile makes me feel like a second-rate woman.
motherhood, social pressure, social stigma

I’m happy I made Hassan furious in court.
He looked furious, ready to explode.
I was scared in court.
When the judge asked me why I wanted a divorce,
I said that I felt we were incompatible.
Hassan looks older than he is.
The trial was postponed,
But I’m happy that I made him furious today.
I was scared,
But I tried to ignore my fear.

I was walking past an qahwa (local cafe).
I could see them trying to form a circle around me.
No one from the qahwa did anything to stop them.
I don’t know where that scream came from, but it made them leave.

We were on our way back from a trip.
An officer got on the bus.
“Is she your sister?” he asked the person next to me.
“No, we’re friends,” he replied.
“Friends? What kind of friends?”

My story is the story of hundreds of people.
The story is that of differences.
The difference that isn’t allowed,
Which you’re scared of and hate,
Because you know it’s haram.

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