But I remember the way the hairdresser looked at my hair when I took off the hijab in front of her.
She was surprised it was curly.
She would make fun of my hair to the other people in the salon.
I think she used to hurt me on purpose when she was straightening it.
body image, hair, bullying, beauty standards
Mama used to always tell me,
“I used to cry because you refused to eat.
You weighed only 8 kilos when you were five,
And you were going to die!”
When I turned 6,
I started gaining weight, and then gaining some more.
I started getting comments at home, then at school, then from society at large.
body image, beauty standards, bullying, mental health
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 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.
I’m not the center of the universe. So, why do people pay so much attention to me?
Why do I always receive criticism from the people I live with and from the outside world about things that don’t concern them? Personal things about my personal life?
body image, bullying, beauty standards, social pressure
When I was in the eighth grade, there was a boy with me at school who was blond and fair-skinned. He was a grade younger than I was.
Wherever he went, the other students would harass him. He was absent a lot because of this. His father came in to complain more than once but to no avail.
The first time he hit me was the day I found out I was pregnant.
He picked a fight with me when his friend and his wife were having dinner with us,
And I fried the mombar (a kind of sausage dish),
Before the chicken breasts.
He pulled me by my hair,
And dragged me to the stove,
And threatened to set me on fire to get rid of me.
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’ve had black circles under my eyes ever since I was young.
It’s genetic.
I also have bulging eyes.
I hated school,
Because of the way my friends looked at me,
Like they were making fun of me.
They saw me as less than them,
Because I don’t look normal.
Every single day,
People passing me by in the street,
Shout insults at me:
“Blackie!”
“Shikabala!”
“Why’s it dark all of the sudden?”
“Disgusting!”