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.

Girls, I know that at this age, you like to flaunt your beauty.
“Look at my long hair!
Look at whatever!”
Here, you must forget about all those things.
The uniform you must wear is a galabiyya.
The kind your mothers wear.

When I was a kid, before I had even turned 5,
My mom gave my black curly hair a pixie cut.
My sister’s friends always used to ask her,
“What’s your brother’s name?”
She’d draw their attention to my earrings and point out that I’m a girl.
body image, bullying, hair, beauty standards

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.

Baba always wanted me to dress in loose-fitting clothing,
Even though I am petite.
When we went shopping,
And something fit me but wasn’t loose,
He’d tell me that it looked bad on me.
body image, bullying, parents

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.

When I was in the 7th grade,
My gym class teacher told me in the playground in front of all of my classmates
“Look at how big your boobs are? Are you not wearing a bra?”
She made fun of me and they laughed.
Even since then I genuinely hate my boobs.
body image, bullying

“Her picture will be so dark, you won’t even be able to see her.”

I tried to say something,

But my tongue was tied.

I tried to ignore the slight,

Pretend I didn’t hear it,

Just focus on the camera.

But I wasn’t able to, unfortunately.

The result was as horrible as could be.

I was born with an autoimmune disease,
That attacks the thyroid gland.
I started showing symptoms when I was 5 years old.
I was a fat child.
I’ve been fat for as long as I could remember.
I was bullied ever since I was little,
By everyone in my life,
Because of my weight.

I never liked makeup.
I never liked how it felt on my skin.
Ever since middle school,
I’ve had a huge acne problem.
I’ve been to countless doctors,
But whatever solutions they provide are temporary.
The acne on my face always comes back.
body image, beauty standards, bullying