My problem is that I’m a kind and decent person.
The kind of person who thinks of others before acting, who puts himself in their shoes.
I literally have no friends, and I live far away from my family.
I even work online, so in a way, I don’t interact with people at all.

I was on my way to school like any other day,
When I found everyone making fun of me because I was wearing pants and a t-shirt that were bigger in size than their clothes.
I weighed more than them.
I don’t know how this whole thing started.
bullying, body image, beauty standards, social pressure

Every day, I feel guilty towards my daughter.
There was a time in my life when, unfortunately, I had looked up to certain people in my life and felt that I had to act like them.
One of those people was a cousin of mine.

It was me and two or three other girls on the bus.
Two of them were veiled and one was wearing the niqab.
We were all standing in a corner.
We were surrounded by men.
There was a man sitting with his legs wide open and laughing loudly.
It was as if he was the owner of the bus and could act any way he liked.

There’s a woman I know who’s been married for 12 years.
She’s been working ever since she got married,
And so has her husband.
She doesn’t own a car,
So she has to take public transportation or an Uber.
Back in the day,
There was no other form of transportation except public transportation or the metro.
This woman is about 8 years older than me.
She didn’t stop working when she had a daughter,
And a son 5 years later.
social pressure, marriage, motherhood, work

I’m a woman who has been struggling her entire life.
Ever since I was a little girl,
I’ve been struggling.
My father was a national railways inspector.
He passed away.
I got married to a man who came from a modest family.
I thought they’d care about my wellbeing.

Being a woman is hard. Really hard.
Everything is exhausting.
It requires tremendous effort just to live a normal life.

Look at me. Do you see me? Do you really see me?
Of course, all you see is a girl that looks like she comes from a good family.
But don’t be fooled by this quiet demeanour.
I’m burning on the inside.
No one can feel the anger inside me.

Her parents kept her locked up at home.
Her computer was always being watched.
Her job was located near her house.
She wasn’t allowed out on her own.
She was 33 years old.

I used to work as a sales person in a computer shop in Riyadh.
A woman wearing the niqab came in, and looked at me and my colleagues
“Oh, God bless, who of you should I talk to?” she asked
“You could talk to whoever you’re comfortable talking to, miss!”