I am dark skinned,
And I don't know when I started to hate how I look,
Nor when I convinced myself that I was not pretty.
I’m sure my parents think I am ugly.
Even my brother would say things like,
“I rejected a potential wife, because she looked like you.”

My parents are Nubian.
I was born olive-skinned,
Like most Egyptians.
My brother, however,
Who’s a year and a half older than me,
Was darker-skinned,
Like most Nubians.
That’s not the only problem:
My brother has a disability:
A chronic ulcer on the sole of his foot.

My current weight is 70 kg,
And I’m 163 cm tall.
My weight used to be around 58 to 60 kg,
Never any more than that.
Then I went through a very difficult period in my life,
And I was expelled from university.

Both of my parents are dead,
And I live with my older sister.
I have many siblings:
Five sisters and two brothers.
They’re all married and have kids,
Except me.
When I gained weight,
They made me feel self-conscious about the way I looked.

“Frizzy-haired!”
“Need a brush?”
“How come you don’t brush your hair?”
“Who electrocuted you?”
“A doctor shouldn’t look like that.”
“You need to brush your hair, dear, or it’ll collect dirt.”
body image, hair, bullying, beauty standards

I’m 16 years old.
People have made fun of me ever since I was little.
My father was very short,
And I was born a twin.
To make sense of the way I looked,
They used to tell me,
That my twin brother was trying to absorb me,
When we were in our mother’s womb.
But what happened was that he absorbed my food instead.

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.

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.

The first day of university, I came to class late and the professor stopped me and said:
“Why does your hair look like that? Do you not have any water at home to wash it with?”
I was so embarrassed, but I laughed it off.
body image, hair, bullying, beauty standards

When my mother saw my almost bare chubby body one time, she said,
“Seeing your body upsets me.”
It hurt me.
It hurt to know that my mother feels sad when she sees me,
And that she feels sorry for me.

I’m thin,
I don’t have any muscles or abs.
I was okay with that, to an extent, in the beginning,
Because my body hadn’t fully developed yet,
Or basically, because I hadn’t decided to go the gym yet.
body image, bullying, masculinity