I want to be free.
I want to write whatever I want.
But all married women now have red lines they can’t cross.
“Now that we live together, you have to forget about writing,”
They’re told as soon as they get married.
I learned one day that my neighbor whom I used to play with was getting married.
She was almost 16 years old.
“I’ve got something that my husband will take from me and throw away tomorrow morning,” she said.
First off, there are definitely a lot of people like me.
I’m a girl who struggles every day with the challenges this society presents to her, but I face these challenges with hard work and steadfastness.
Yes, with hard work and steadfastness.
I found out two years ago by pure chance that I had a tumor in my uterus.
“The position of the tumor is critical and we might have to remove the uterus,” the doctor said.
I was terrified.
It wasn’t that I was worried it would stop me from getting married.
I’m 32 years old.
I’m divorced, and I don’t have any children.
When I turned 32, everyone pressured me into getting married.
I honestly wasn’t really looking forward to it.
I smoke hash every day.
Whenever I can’t get my hands on some, I fall apart completely.
I wish I could quit.
Because every time I go to buy some, something bad happens.
I wish I could stop worrying about every word I say and every move I make.
I wish I didn’t have to hide parts of myself.
I wish I didn’t care about what people think.
I’m afraid of having children.
I’m afraid of raising a son or daughter in this country.
“C’mon, you need to have a baby soon.”
“Why don’t you want to have children?”
“Have you gone for a check up?”