I’m a boy.
I’m not fat, but I have man boobs.
I come from the countryside, and the first thing people notice are my boobs.
I get comments by everyone on the streets, in classes, and at school.
body image, bullying, masculinity

I grew up hating my hair.
It was very painful when my mother,
Would try to brush it.
Whenever I tried to be okay with it,
People at school, family and family friends would make fun of me.

Mama likes to make remarks about everything:
“Why do you look like that?”
“Why do you look pale?”
“Why are there dark circles under your eyes?”
“Why are there dark spots around your mouth?”
“Why are you eating like that?”
“Why are your fingers so long?”

Ever since I was young,
I was told that I’m not pretty,
Because I’m fat,
And that I shouldn’t eat too much,
Because I’d get even fatter.
I was told that it was gluttonous,
And unfeminine.

I don’t care, though.
I love myself the way I am,
But a lot of other girls unfortunately do care.
They end up resorting to extreme measures to make their breasts socially acceptable,
Even though it’s nobody’s business how large one’s chest is.
Some cultures consider small breasts to be beautiful.
But of course, people here refuse to accept anyone different.
They insist on bullying them!

Girls, I know that at this age, you like to flaunt your beauty.
“Look at my long hair!
Look at whatever!”
Here, you must forget about all those things.
The uniform you must wear is a galabiyya.
The kind your mothers wear.

I was born with an extreme case of dowager's hump,
And it looks very pronounced when I wear certain clothes.
When I was a child,
My mother tried to get it fixed,
But that meant that I had to wear a huge back brace all the time.
body image, bullying, beauty standards

Due to a hormonal imbalance,
My breasts got really big.
Too big for a 21-year-old.
And since my lactation hormone levels were high,
My sister would tell mama,
“Don’t buy milk.
We’ll milk her every morning instead.”

I hate my skin.
It’s full of flaws.
My face and back are full of painful pimples.
Dark areas, red areas, holes, and splotches.
I hate how people look at me,
Especially when I’m already feeling low.
Even mama, baba, and my younger siblings,
All look at me with a mixture of disgust and pity on their faces.

I gained weight as I grew up.
I was still a kid when aunties started commenting on my weight.
“You’ve become fat,” they said.
When I was a teenager,
Mama used to criticize my weight all the time.
body image, bullying, family