I’m a 32-year-old man,
And I struggle with being overweight.
Every morning I wake up and look at myself in the mirror,
And feel disgusted with my body.
I can’t love it, and I can’t change it.
I get really hurt by people’s comments.
body image, 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 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.
We live in a society,
That determines whether you’ll be accepted or not,
Based on your weight,
Hair type,
Eye color,
And skin tone.
It was a family outing.
Almost everyone said,
“What’s wrong with your hair?”
“Straighten the frizz out of it.”
“Are you trying to be an eyesore on purpose?”
They were insensitive to my feelings as they made fun of me.
body image, hair, bullying, beauty standards, social pressure
I used to always hear negative comments when I was a kid about my hair and looks.
My mother never told me that my hair looked nice.
body image, hair, bullying, beauty standards
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
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.”
I am a curly-haired girl.
Everyone calls my hair scraggly.
Everyone insists that I should straighten it,
But I don’t want to.