I was climbing up the stairs, and I was wearing a short yellow jacket.
I always wear it on top of my pajamas when my mother sends me to buy her stuff from downstairs.
A tall and thin man, wearing a brown jacket came and stopped me,

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 know you’ll never understand or accept me.
So for the very first time in my life I had to lie.

It felt weird to tell them that I needed a hug.
I needed kindness,
I needed someone to believe in me,
Someone to support me,
To listen to me.
Someone to hang out and be friends with.

I wanted to move out and live alone.
My father, in order to prevent me from leaving,
Locked the door and chased after me.
My mother came after us.

How do you not know that he smokes, madame?
Cigarettes, Fady? Why? How old are you?
Why, son, why? What have we done for this to happen?
How long have you been smoking? Is this your box?

I used to be told when I was younger
“You’re a man, don’t cry!”
“You’re a man” was a punishment to me,
Because it imposed on my a certain lifestyle
Things I have to do, and other things I can’t do.

Mama was paranoid about harassment.
She thought it was everywhere.
She wanted to protect me.

When I was 6,
My mother took me out.
She told me that we were going to visit someone,
But she didn't take me back home with her.
She left me there.

Two boys on a donkey were passing by.
They said some things.
I was worried about the girls who were with me.
As they passed by us,
One of the boys got close to me and pinched me.