I was born in Saudi Arabia.
When I was young,
I was bullied because of my dark skin.
I didn’t have any friends,
Because no one wanted to be friends with me.
I hated myself.
I wanted to die,
So I could go to heaven,
And be reborn as a girl with pale skin,
Blonde hair,
And green eyes.

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

I attended university outside of my governorate.
I used to brush my hair in the bathroom,
Because I didn't want any of the other girls to bother me.
I started realizing there were a lot of people like me,
When I started being active on social media.
These girls weren’t ashamed of their hair.
They went out in public with their curly hair.
I even read articles about the experiences of girls with curly hair.
It made me ask myself if my hair was something to be embarrassed about.
Why was I scared?
These stories gave me the courage to accept my hair as is.

My mother only likes straight hair.
She’d always straighten our hair, using various gels and keratin.
She wanted to straighten it in any way possible.
hair, bullying, beauty standards, body image

I’m a girl like any other girl,
But unfortunately,
Society doesn’t consider me to be like any other girl,
Because I’m cross eyed.
When someone jokes about it,
Either to me or someone else,
It causes me a lot of pain.
It’s true they’re only joking around,
But it cuts me to the core.

Ever since I was young,
I was told that my hair wasn’t nice.
I’ve been straightening my hair since elementary school.
Everyone around me made fun of me.
They called me “brillo pad.”

Mama used to always tell me,
“I used to cry because you refused to eat.
You weighed only 8 kilos when you were five,
And you were going to die!”
When I turned 6,
I started gaining weight, and then gaining some more.
I started getting comments at home, then at school, then from society at large.
body image, beauty standards, bullying, mental health

Ever since I was little,
I’ve always had “bad” hair.
It truly is bad hair.
It’s not curly.
It’s thin at the front,
And short and frizzy.

When I was in the eighth grade, there was a boy with me at school who was blond and fair-skinned. He was a grade younger than I was.
Wherever he went, the other students would harass him. He was absent a lot because of this. His father came in to complain more than once but to no avail.

I was never good at picking out clothes,
Or following trends.
I was never exactly a fashionista.
I liked wearing whatever made me feel comfortable,
And whatever colors I liked.
I liked wearing long clothes as well.
I don’t like wearing makeup.
My parents always told me that I looked like a “beggar.”