I scrubbed vigorously at my face, hoping the third time would be the charm.
Why does the world subject me to stereotypes? Being a Muslim woman doesn't mean I'm oppressed.
Every convert in the group said they hated "giving it up."
My train rides become that much more...weird.
Yes, I called myself fat. But why can’t I be beautiful, too?
Before I could get better though, I got worse.
Hey guys, notice anything different?
My outline has been written, with particular settings and characters thrown in my path, but I continue to fill the crisp pages and punctuate them with my responses to God’s plan.
They thought they were helping her - protecting from the pain of grieving - but what they did damaged my mother in a way that I had never seen before.
Yes, it’s a treat when we cook up a dish of amazing lasagna at home, but nothing tastes better than eating a meal that’s been prepared following your family customs.
I realized how not only was sex and sexuality a taboo, but how culturally, we were expected to be asexual.