I was a bit fat when I was a teenager,
And I had freckles.
I was always told I’d look pretty if I lost a bit of weight.
“Why don’t you go see a dermatologist for your freckles?”
“How come you’re not skinny like your siblings?

I've always struggled with how my parents treated me,
And the way they looked at me because of my body shape.
I’ve been struggling with obesity,
Ever since I hit puberty.

I started getting comments about my curly hair when I came to Egypt.
I get comments like, “Brush your hair.”
“Mop-head.”
“Why is your hair so messy?”
body image, hair, bullying, beauty standards

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

I’m fat,
And I’ve always been bullied because of it.
People have told me things like:
“Are you sure you’re a man with those breasts of yours?”
“You’re as big as a bull now.
We’ll sacrifice you on Eid.”

When I was in middle school, I loved my science teacher so much.
I was a good student so he, too, loved me.
During winter breaks, they always gave us a lot of homework to do.
One time during the break, I got sick and went to Cairo to get treated,
So I didn’t do the homework.

My hair is naturally curly.
I got it from my maternal grandmother.
The rest of my family members all have long, straight hair.
I’ve been subjected to all sorts of ridicule and mockery,
But it hurt the most when it came from my family.
body image, hair, beauty standards, bullying

I used to braid my kinky hair in school.
It was a bit poofy at the top.
The girls at school would pull my hair and undo my braid.
My hair would get frizzy and I wouldn’t know how to tie it.
The teachers would yell at me to tie my hair.
body image, hair, beauty standards, bullying

That day, I sat there and pretended to play by myself because I was alone,
My neighbors weren’t talking to me that day.
At the time my neighbors were my group of friends: Manara, Nesma, Shaimaa.
They were sisters.

During an awards ceremony at school, the principal refused to shake hands with me. 
Even though she greeted and congratulated all the others. 
“What’s wrong with your hair?” she said.
“I wish you’d brush your hair for once,” she used to tell me whenever she’d see me. 
body image, hair, beauty standards, bullying