“My daughter is fat and black.
She doesn’t look like her siblings.
Even her brothers look nicer than she does.”
I’ve been taught to hate my body ever since I was young.
“You’re fat, black, and you have eyes as small as buttons.”
“Look at all the other girls. You’ll never get married.”

I don’t eat a lot,
But when I do,
It shows.
My body accumulates fat in certain areas.
It’s how my body is.
Those areas include my chest.

I hate my skin.
It’s full of flaws.
My face and back are full of painful pimples.
Dark areas, red areas, holes, and splotches.
I hate how people look at me,
Especially when I’m already feeling low.
Even mama, baba, and my younger siblings,
All look at me with a mixture of disgust and pity on their faces.

Am I ugly? Yes, I wasn’t beautiful, or maybe that’s what they wanted me to believe.
I was chubbier than them. I wasn’t good at socializing like them. They made me think I was different.
body image, bullying, school, social pressure, beauty standards

“Do you have good or bad hair?”
I get this question all the time from everyone around me.
But I’ve never mustered up the courage to reply.
So I tell them: “Yeah, my hair isn’t straight.”
Despite my family’s efforts to convince me that I had nice hair as a baby,
All of the kids at school were skilled in the art of bullying.
body image, hair, beauty standards, bullying

I’ve always been chubby.
My family didn’t have a problem with that,
Thank God.
And they never told me that I needed to lose weight.
But when I was young,
Mama didn’t like dressing me in revealing clothing,
So that no one would give me the evil eye.

My hair changed as I got older. It became frizzy and messy.
My mom always tied it back for me.
It made me cry because I wanted to let my hair down like the other girls.
I didn’t like receiving comments and getting weird looks from my relatives.
“Why is your hair so messy?”
“Brush your hair.”
And other comments I still remember until this day.
body image, hair, bullying, beauty standards

I was born with crossed eyes.
It’s supposedly subtle,
But it bothers me,
And affects me emotionally,
Because everyone who talks to me,
Looks straight at my eye.
“Did you used to wear glasses?” a lot of people have asked me.
I actually have perfect vision.

I have a jaw deformity.
I was born with it.
So were my siblings.
It’s genetic,
But my parents fixed theirs early on so it was easy.
There’s an age gap between me and my siblings,
So by the time I got here,
My parents had a lot of issues,
And we couldn't fix mine.

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.