Inside me exists a traditional girl,
Whom I call Souad.
Souad dreams of meeting “the one”.
She wants a groom, a wedding, etc.
She lives in this fantasy world,
And dreams up every little detail of her wedding.
And when she listens to certain songs,
She imagines dancing to them at her wedding in her white dress.
What the groom looks like depends on who’s the hero of her story at the current moment, the man she deems suitable for the role, but the rest of the details remain the same.
The fantasy is written, produced, and directed by Souad.
A broken record that’s been played over and over a million times in my head.
I’m sick of it.
It’s gotten to a point where I’m thinking of just putting on a white dress and throwing myself a party.
That’d shock and shut people up.
But to be honest, Souad is the one I’d love to shut up.
I want to treat her of her addiction to the white dress fantasy.

Warning The stories on our story archive could contain potentially sensitive and/or triggering material. If a story causes you discomfort or pain, please remember to breathe and check in with yourself before continuing or stop reading completely if necessary.