I hate you.
I hate everything about you.
Your skin tone, your size, all your little details.

Trust me when I say that I’ve tried to accept you so many times, but I just can’t.
I can’t keep fooling myself.
body image, body shaming, beauty standards, harassment

It was a cursed day. I’ll never forget it.
He called me at 7 in the morning, so it didn’t seem unusual.
Long story short,
His voice suddenly changed.
“What are you wearing?” he asked.

The first time I was harassed was in middle school.
My friend and I were on our way home.
When all of a sudden,
Three guys on a motorcycle,
Grabbed me from behind,
All three of them in one go.
gender violence, sexual violence, harassment, the street

I was there when the catcalls on the streets started changing from “Hey, honey” to “I want to put my **** in your ****”!
I was there when they silenced everyone, and no one spoke,
I thought I was experiencing these things alone,
I hated my body, my femininity, and my life.

I wish I could be like the woman in the alley.
The one who takes off her slippers and threatens to beat 14 guys in the metro,
Until they run away.

He was my father’s age,
I met him at Ramses station on my way back to Minya.
He was a professor at Ain Shams University,
And he treated me like a daughter.
He used to call me at my parents’ house to check if I needed anything.

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.

I stopped wearing the hijab a few months ago.
Ramadan is approaching and I’m terrified.
I’m afraid of what my family might say.
I’m afraid of what people in the street will say.
social stigma, hijab, hair, harassment, the street, social pressure

My sister was walking down the street,
And a guy was following her.
He kept catcalling her.
She was minding her own business.

Their looks pierce my soul.
O Allah, what should I do?
Why?
Why do people’s stares bother me?
I feel like something is attacking me.