I’m passive, weak, uneducated.
Veiled from head to toe.
One of his four wives.
Work in the kitchen all day.
And spread my legs wide at night.
That’s what you think, right?

I just couldn’t wait to grow up to be a man.
Whenever I’d see women waiting in line in front of the kiosk,
I’d go press myself up against their bodies.
The most any of them would do was just walk away.

I love my sisters.
I love having them in my life.
But at the same time,
I wish I didn’t have any sisters,
Because of our society.
masculinity, social pressure

I remember the pushing,
The kicking,
And the yelling.
I remember every time I said no,
And how he continued anyway.
At times,
I felt as if I were transforming into a pillow,
By the way he’d close his eyes,
And forget that I was even there.
It killed me.
gender violence; sexual violence; rape; masculinity; sex; sexuality

I don’t eat a lot,
But when I do,
It shows.
My body accumulates fat in certain areas.
It’s how my body is.
Those areas include my chest.

There is a voice in my head that says,
“You gotta stick up for yourself.
How can you not do anything?
Beat them up!
You gotta fight back.”

Ahmed: “What do you think of that hottie over there?”
Amr: “Which one? The veiled one?
I love veiled women.”
Ahmed: “Really?
Why?”
Amr: “You know when you get a wrapped present,
And you take your time unwrapping it?”
Ahmed: “I’m talking about the girl walking with her, man.
Of course I wasn’t talking about that woman over there.
She looks like the potential brides my mother makes me meet.”
Amr: “Your mother makes you meet potential brides?”
Ahmed: “Yeah, man.
All the time.
She thinks they’re all like her,
Or will be like her in exactly two years.
I’ve stopped meeting them,
So, now she sends me their pictures on Facebook.”

I’m the boss.
Honestly, I used to get these negative thoughts;
Thoughts that are full of violence and rage.
It was as if I was waiting to explode and let everything out.
masculinity, social pressure

When I was in middle school, someone beat me up.
We were playing football, and he beat me up, so I went home crying.
My dad saw me and asked why I was crying, so I told him what had happened.
masculinity, social pressure, parents

I don’t remember how old I was at the time, but I remember being old enough to understand what was going on. Old enough to say something. But I was too scared.
gender violence, sexual violence, masculinity, the street