“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

Am I ugly? Yes, I wasn’t beautiful, or maybe that’s what they wanted me to believe.
I was chubbier than them. I wasn’t good at socializing like them. They made me think I was different.
body image, bullying, school, social pressure, beauty standards

I’ve had a binge eating disorder ever since I was a child.
I only became aware of it,
And tried to do something about it,
When I was 21 years old.
I started gaining weight when I was 10.
I would visit a nutritionist every week.

I have always been overweight,
And my family comments about my body all the time.
I used to feel like I was public property,
That anyone could look at me and my body and call me,
“Fat” or “chubby”.
I was the butt of jokes at family gatherings,
Which I hated more than anything.
body image, beauty standards, bullying, marriage

My current weight is 70 kg,
And I’m 163 cm tall.
My weight used to be around 58 to 60 kg,
Never any more than that.
Then I went through a very difficult period in my life,
And I was expelled from university.

Both of my parents are dead,
And I live with my older sister.
I have many siblings:
Five sisters and two brothers.
They’re all married and have kids,
Except me.
When I gained weight,
They made me feel self-conscious about the way I looked.

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 just finished reading one of your stories,
About a mother who body shamed her daughter.
My relationship with my mother has been traumatic.
My mother always did the same thing:
She’d make fun of how I looked generally,
Not just my weight,
Even though I wasn’t fat before I got married,
But she always said I looked poor.

I hate my skin.
It’s full of flaws.
My face and back are full of painful pimples.
Dark areas, red areas, holes, and splotches.
I hate how people look at me,
Especially when I’m already feeling low.
Even mama, baba, and my younger siblings,
All look at me with a mixture of disgust and pity on their faces.

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’m a dark-skinned girl.
I was, of course, bullied all throughout my school and university years.
I was called “chocolate.”
It used to upset me,
But I didn’t tell mama.
I was scared of her.
She, herself, would introduce me to her friends by saying,
“My daughter is black and ugly.”
body image, racism, bullying