I’m 18 years old.
When I was 16,
I started to rebel against society.
I became defiant and started living freely.
I met a lot of people who helped me.
Other people I used to be close to,
Started drifting away,
Because they thought I was a bad person.
Just because I demanded my rights and was open about my feelings.

I called Tante Hoda and quickly realized that the whole school and Kuwait thing wasn’t real.
I could’ve told my auntie that I knew what she was trying to do,
But I wanted to put an end to all future attempts at finding me a husband.
So I went to the club and met auntie, Tante Hoda and the suitor—tall, with glasses, and eyes on the floor.

I got married after 6 years of being in love.
During that time,
I found out he was cheating on me with the live-in maid,
Who took care of his mother.
I confronted him at first,
but he denied it.

“How’s it going, dear?”
“No good news for us?”
“No baby on the way?”
“I’ll give you the most important piece of advice:
Take good care of your home and husband.

So living here in the prime of life,
I finally saw this society for what it is.
Its double standards.
I’m sure a lot of you have been on the receiving end of it,
but for those who have NO clue what I’m talking about, Let me explain:

A girl was walking to a supermarket near her house after iftaar  when a kid—no older than 18—said the most disgusting things to her as he fondled himself.

I was fifteen years old.
I was visiting the countryside,
Where I went on a walk with my cousins and sisters.
Eid here is different.
One should not go out after noon.
I didn’t know that when I suggested going for a walk.

What’s he thinking of?
Does she have the right to say no?
Is it my right to pass judgement on her?
Is it her fault that she’s giving in to society’s standards?

I thought I did something wrong.
I did something wrong because I’m pretty.
He followed me and did what he did because I’m pretty.

You’re a slut.
You travel with boys.
You smoke.
And your paintings?!
You brought us shame,
Don’t come back home.