I’ve always loved curly hair,
But I never knew how to maintain it.
I didn’t even know my hair was considered curly.
I just thought it was always frizzy because I never took care of it.
I got a protein treatment once,
And on that day, the hairdresser washed it and dried it with a blow dryer.
body image, hair, bullying, beauty standards
My forehead is kind of big.
I’ve always been bullied because of how I looked,
My forehead,
And my hair—
Which isn’t bad by the way,
But it isn't as beautiful as everyone else’s in the family.
I’ve always heard things like,
“Your hair could work as an antenna for the T.V.”
I’m a guy.
I weigh 135 kg.
I’ve been bullied ever since I was 10.
People would make fun of the size of my chest.
I was small in size from childhood up until I went to college.
My brother was a bit like me.
He is a year older than me.
His body started to change around puberty,
But mine didn’t.
My sister is 8 years younger than me.
They were both chubby,
And I was skinny.
The first time he hit me was the day I found out I was pregnant.
He picked a fight with me when his friend and his wife were having dinner with us,
And I fried the mombar (a kind of sausage dish),
Before the chicken breasts.
He pulled me by my hair,
And dragged me to the stove,
And threatened to set me on fire to get rid of me.
Mama has several objections about how I look—
My teeth, hair, and body.
I’ll start with my teeth.
I’ve had problems with my teeth ever since I was a child.
I didn’t know how to take care of them.
I didn’t pay attention to my appearance (I was a child in elementary school).
I’ll never forget what mama said to me:
“Smile with your mouth closed, so you’ll look good.”
I was born in Saudi Arabia.
When I was young,
I was bullied because of my dark skin.
I didn’t have any friends,
Because no one wanted to be friends with me.
I hated myself.
I wanted to die,
So I could go to heaven,
And be reborn as a girl with pale skin,
Blonde hair,
And green eyes.