I always thought I was adopted,
Or maybe I wasn’t their daughter….
I’m the eldest of my siblings,
I was born normally,
With olive skin and curly hair.
But I was seen as dark-skinned, ugly, and with coarse hair.
Things got worse when my younger sister was born three years later.
She was born with pale skin and straight hair.

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

I’m a 17 year old boy.
I used to be made fun of all the time for being thin.
I wasn’t remarkably thin or frail,
My weight was optimal,
Not a pound heavier and not a pound lighter.
It wasn’t just society that made fun of my body,
Unfortunately, I was made fun of at home.
body image, bullying, family

I have dark skin,
And I adore it.
I’m an Egyptian girl of Nubian descent,
But I don’t live in Nubia.
I never get a break from people’s comments:
On the streets, at school, or any place I go.
body image, bullying, racism, beauty standards

My forehead is kind of big.
I’ve always been bullied because of how I looked,
My forehead,
And my hair—
Which isn’t bad by the way,
But it isn't as beautiful as everyone else’s in the family.
I’ve always heard things like,
“Your hair could work as an antenna for the T.V.”

I really, really hate how I look.
I have zero self-confidence.
I have issues when it comes to food and eating.
I often don’t have an appetite,
And it shows on my face:
It’s thin and pale,
And my nose is the biggest thing on my face.
I get a lot of horrible comments and looks of pity.

My curly hair was like a disease.
Everyone pitied me for it.
Everyone offered to help fix it.
My hair has seen it all: chemicals, food masks, oils, creams, freaking spiritual healings...
hair, beauty standards, bullying

The problem is that my voice has always sounded like a baby’s.
I’ve gone to well-known doctors in Egypt.
They told me that this was just what my voice was like.
Nothing more or less.
body image, bullying, masculinity

That day, I sat there and pretended to play by myself because I was alone,
My neighbors weren’t talking to me that day.
At the time my neighbors were my group of friends: Manara, Nesma, Shaimaa.
They were sisters.

“Frizzy-haired!”
“Need a brush?”
“How come you don’t brush your hair?”
“Who electrocuted you?”
“A doctor shouldn’t look like that.”
“You need to brush your hair, dear, or it’ll collect dirt.”
body image, hair, bullying, beauty standards