I’m tall,
And a little chubby.
So what?
It’s not a crime.
But in our perfect, flawless society,
It’s a great opportunity,
For laughter,
And ha-has.
Sure, go ahead.
I’ve always been overweight.
I can’t remember ever being skinny.
I’m pretty,
And I have beautiful hair,
And I have a nice personality,
But people are always telling me to lose weight,
So I’ll look prettier.
I have big ears.
That’s not a bad thing!
But I’ve been bullied a lot.
The kind of bullying that made me hate the fact that I have big ears.
I would imagine sometimes going into the bathroom with a pair of scissors and cutting them off.
My height used to always be a major issue for me.
Ever since elementary school,
The first thing people ask me is,
“Why are you so tall?”
I used to have a good body.
Then, one year,
I gained a lot of weight,
Because of health issues.
People have been treating me differently ever since.
They even look at me differently,
Even though I’m still the exact same person.
My mother only likes straight hair.
She’d always straighten our hair, using various gels and keratin.
She wanted to straighten it in any way possible.
hair, bullying, beauty standards, body image
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.
I am olive-skinned.
There’s nothing special about my features; I look like any other Egyptian.
I have oily skin.
I’ve had acne since I was a teenager,
And I didnt know how to deal with it.
I was bullied at school a lot as a kid.
“Wash your face! You look dirty.”
“You look like so and so, but she looks cleaner than you!”
These are the kinds of things I would hear as a kid from my colleagues and sometimes even my own family.
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