I feel like I'm slowly becoming more and more disconnected from my Arab roots.
Privacy? Space? Unheard of.
Our vaginas housed a precious flower, we were told, one to be protected at all costs.
As I put on my hijab in his bathroom, I caught him looking at me.
She asked incredulously, "Your...girlfriend? Like you dated a woman?!" I nodded.
Love your parents enough to call them out on their emotional manipulation and abuse of parental powers.
If I could speak to my younger self, I’d tell her to embrace her heritage.
I was heart broken when the only person I trusted decided to take advantage of me.
I was a Pakistani from the Third World which automatically and supposedly, turned me into a potential terrorist, perpetrator, economic migrant, threat etc.
This is the part where I swallowed the trauma, masking it under a bright smile and laughingly requested a selfie.