I don’t care, though.
I love myself the way I am,
But a lot of other girls unfortunately do care.
They end up resorting to extreme measures to make their breasts socially acceptable,
Even though it’s nobody’s business how large one’s chest is.
Some cultures consider small breasts to be beautiful.
But of course, people here refuse to accept anyone different.
They insist on bullying them!

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

I’ve always struggled with my body image.
I went to an all-girls school, and I was very athletic.
I was taller than the other girls, bulkier.
I always looked messy from playing sports during break time.
I always got called a tomboy and was given only “manly” roles at school plays.

I just finished reading one of your stories,
About a mother who body shamed her daughter.
My relationship with my mother has been traumatic.
My mother always did the same thing:
She’d make fun of how I looked generally,
Not just my weight,
Even though I wasn’t fat before I got married,
But she always said I looked poor.

When I was in college, a joke started about someone in our group and spread throughout the entire university:
“Is that your body, Ahmed, or your mother’s?

I really, really hate how I look.
I have zero self-confidence.
I have issues when it comes to food and eating.
I often don’t have an appetite,
And it shows on my face:
It’s thin and pale,
And my nose is the biggest thing on my face.
I get a lot of horrible comments and looks of pity.

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.

Some people at university would compliment my skin tone and ask me,
“How do you get so tan?”
I would tell them that it wasn’t a tan.
It was my skin color.
I thought they were making fun of me,
And that something was wrong with me.

I’m a man in my twenties.
Who has zero self-esteem.
I have always been bullied by the people I love for the way I look.
I’m neither dark-skinned,
Nor fair-skinned.
I’m tall, but not thin,
My body is disproportionate somehow.

I was never good at picking out clothes,
Or following trends.
I was never exactly a fashionista.
I liked wearing whatever made me feel comfortable,
And whatever colors I liked.
I liked wearing long clothes as well.
I don’t like wearing makeup.
My parents always told me that I looked like a “beggar.”