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.
I don’t remember my circumcision clearly.
Ever since it happened,
I’ve been avoiding thinking about anything related to my body.
I always feel like there’s something missing.
That I’m not really a girl.
My family’s strange beliefs are the reason for this.
That is why I hate my body,
Every inch of it.
Whenever the topic of circumcision comes up,
Mama says she’s proud she made me undergo the procedure
And that “Tahara [ritual purification] is a must for all girls.”
And that it’s a beautiful thing.
I don’t think I’ll ever overcome the feeling of not being a proper woman.
I will never move past the physical and psychological effect of circumcision