Ever since I was little,
I’ve always had “bad” hair.
It truly is bad hair.
It’s not curly.
It’s thin at the front,
And short and frizzy.

I’m a girl like any other girl,
But unfortunately,
Society doesn’t consider me to be like any other girl,
Because I’m cross eyed.
When someone jokes about it,
Either to me or someone else,
It causes me a lot of pain.
It’s true they’re only joking around,
But it cuts me to the core.

For as long as I can remember, I’d been overweight.
As a result, I was always subjected to comments from people, especially family,
Comments about how fat I was,
Whether as a child, teenager, or young adult.
I was always told that I needed to lose weight,
That I was not nice to look at,
And that I would never find a husband because of my body.

“What’s up with your hair? Put water or oils on it to make it softer.”
“Why is your hair like that? Why do you have such ugly hair?”
“Have your mother style it for you because it looks horrible like that.”
“Looks like the doorman’s wife styles your hair.”
beauty standards, hair, body image, bullying, social pressure

Baba used to beat me up for being fat.
When I was around 13 or 14,
Mama was convinced that I won’t get married because I’m overweight.
body image, bullying, beauty standards, physical violence

I was subjected to derisive comments on an almost daily basis.
The one I got the most was a quote from one of Mohamed Saad’s movies: “Possibly a boy, possibly a girl”.
I got that practically every day.
At the beginning, I’d usually yell and fight with the person who said it.
Until one time, I got into a fight with a guy who made fun of my hair.
masculinity, bullying, gender violence, harassment, social stigma, the street

It started around puberty.
My voice started to change.
It became very deep.
To the extent that if someone heard my voice,
Without seeing me,
They’d think I was an old man.
It’s happened to me a lot.

I suffered a lot in there.
My mother didn’t visit me for 6 months.
No one but her visited me.
My father visited me twice in 10 years.
He wasn’t taking it well.
prison, bullying, parents, gender violence, sexual violence, addiction

My story with weight is a little long.
It started when I was a child in elementary school.
I was fatter than my friends who were the same age as me.
They called me “fatty.”
It was a mark of shame that will always stay with me.
I didn’t know how to get rid of it.

I hear comments like:
“Okay, leave it how it is in the back, but straighten your bangs because your hair looks frizzy in the front.”
No one understands that part of the reason why I’m okay with how I look comes from leaving my hair as it is.
body image, bullying, hair, beauty standards