I grew up in the country,
And everyone there considered girls who were 6 years old and up to be potential brides,
Desired by all.

My family was always very critical,
And they tended to make fun of people.
I was born with flawed joints.
I could walk very well and run and all that,
But when I stood,
My knees bent backward,
At first sight, it looked like my legs had been amputated.
My family always called me “Miss knees,”
And my mother always made fun of me in front of my siblings.
She thought I was inverting my knees like this on purpose.
She once even called me “disabled,”
And told me to straighten my knees.

I always saw myself as ugly.
When around other people,
I was careful to keep my knees straight,
Because mama always said,
“You’ll never straighten those legs of yours until one day,
A mean girl makes fun of you and calls you ‘Miss knees.’”
The thing is,
Mama knew it was out of my control.
We’d gone to several doctors,
And I was told it was completely normal.
They told me they couldn’t operate on my knees,
Because my condition wasn’t negatively impacting my knees’ performance,
And I had no trouble with daily activities.

I remained convinced I was ugly and less than everyone else.
I always excelled academically,
And was always top of my class.
No one ever supported or encouraged me.
Whenever I got second place,
I’d feel like a failure.

My mother would sometimes make me cry,
And she treated me like a failure,
And that I failed to get her approval.

I got into several relationships,
Because I wanted to feel desirable.
I wanted to feel like a woman.
I wanted to be told I was pretty or beautiful.
That was a mistake.

I’m now 18.
Ever since I turned 18,
There’s been a lot of pressure on me.
It’s like a curse.
I’m not being treated like a bride.
I told I need to be at my peak, beauty-wise,
Because people will be looking for brides for their sons.
“You’re no longer a child.”
“There are girls your age who are married.”

I’m olive-skinned,
And the parts that get exposed to the sun are darker.
I wear a headscarf.
The exposed part is one color,
And the rest is another shade altogether.
My aunt tells mama to make me apply creams that’ll lighten my skin.
During family gatherings,
I get told things like,
“Get up and show us what you’re wearing.
You go to university like that?
Show us your pictures.”
[To my mother] “Make her wear heels,
Because she looks short from afar.”
I feel like a doll.
Is it my life or theirs?
Their words followed me everywhere.
I’ve become introverted.
Something as simple as wearing what I want isn’t acceptable.
I decided to live for myself,
And to go out and meet new people.
I started looking for a job,
But their words still haunt me.
I don’t know how to escape the pain and hurt they’ve inflicted on me since childhood.
I feel like I’m paying for the fact that I turned 18.
I’m trying to be okay,
But the suicidal thoughts keep increasing.
I’m trying to live my life.
That's all I want.