Trigger warning / “A Part of Me” campaign:
This story could contain potentially sensitive and/or triggering material, especially for victims of female genital mutilation. Please remember to check in with yourself as you read and to stop reading if it gets too overwhelming.

When I was young,
Around 10 years old,
I used to love going shopping with my mother.
She would try to avoid taking me with her.
Then one day,
My cousin told me,
That my mother and aunt would take us with them.
I was happy to hear that,
So I asked my mother,
“Is that true?”
“Yes, sweetheart.
It is,” she replied.

We went with them,
And I don’t remember anything about that day,
Except for the doctor yelling at me.
She told me to take off my pants,
But I refused.
They gave me anesthesia,
And cut off a part of me.
I regained consciousness when I had become a “woman.”
Everything changed after that day.

I was no longer allowed to go out with my male cousins,
To buy things from the supermarket.
I was no longer allowed to play with boys.
I had to wear feminine clothes.
I remember not being able to go to the bathroom or shower for three days.
And whenever my mother would come near my legs,
I would cry out in pain.

This is something I can’t talk about,
With the people I love.
I’m worried about getting married.
What will I say to him?
Will he put up with my frigidity?
Will he keep loving me?
Will we have a “dead bedroom” relationship?

I wish I could reproach my mother,
But she didn’t know any better at the time.
It’s affecting my mental health,
Even though it’s been 14 years.
Whenever I think about it,
My body shivers.
It makes me want to die,
The fact that my body was violated,
At the hands of butchers.