“Why isn’t my hair pretty like yours?
Why isn’t it soft like my friends’ hair at school?
Why do I keep screaming whenever my mom fixes it for me?”
body image, hair, bullying, beauty standards

I’m very handsome,
Thank God.
But I was very thin as a teenager,
Which made my facial features look big,
Especially my lips.

Ever since I was little,
I’ve always had “bad” hair.
It truly is bad hair.
It’s not curly.
It’s thin at the front,
And short and frizzy.

I was born with crossed eyes.
It’s supposedly subtle,
But it bothers me,
And affects me emotionally,
Because everyone who talks to me,
Looks straight at my eye.
“Did you used to wear glasses?” a lot of people have asked me.
I actually have perfect vision.

“Do you have good or bad hair?”
I get this question all the time from everyone around me.
But I’ve never mustered up the courage to reply.
So I tell them: “Yeah, my hair isn’t straight.”
Despite my family’s efforts to convince me that I had nice hair as a baby,
All of the kids at school were skilled in the art of bullying.
body image, hair, beauty standards, bullying

Back when I was in school, all the boys and girls would stare at my hair and call it a “brillo pad.”
I braided my hair most of the time so people wouldn’t notice I had coarse hair, and so I wouldn’t stand out.
body image, hair, beauty standards, bullying

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?

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

I’ve been bullied for my body ever since I was young.
Unlike everyone else,
I was really thin and I still am.
I never really cared about the "french body type,”
Which people told me I had,
As much as I cared about the hurtful comments people made about my body.
body image, bullying

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.