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 born in Saudi Arabia.
When I was young,
I was bullied because of my dark skin.
I didn’t have any friends,
Because no one wanted to be friends with me.
I hated myself.
I wanted to die,
So I could go to heaven,
And be reborn as a girl with pale skin,
Blonde hair,
And green eyes.

I’m sorry it took me a long time to come to terms with you and accept you as you are.
But don’t be upset.
We still have the rest of our lives to love each other.
I’m sorry about the things you had to listen to.
The racism you faced.
body image, beauty standards, bullying, racism

Baba always wanted me to dress in loose-fitting clothing,
Even though I am petite.
When we went shopping,
And something fit me but wasn’t loose,
He’d tell me that it looked bad on me.
body image, bullying, parents

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

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 don’t think anyone has ever made fun of my body or how I looked,
Except for my family.
Baba and mama didn’t make fun of me,
But they let my uncles to do so.
I was the laughing stock of family gatherings,
Simply because I was a little overweight and had curly hair.
body image, bullying

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.

I’m a man in my twenties.
Who has zero self-esteem.
I have always been bullied by the people I love for the way I look.
I’m neither dark-skinned,
Nor fair-skinned.
I’m tall, but not thin,
My body is disproportionate somehow.