That’s what I feel like when I have to ask permission from my dad to leave the house and see my friends
That’s what I feel like when my “men” are protecting my honor all the while committing much worse offenses to/with other “mens” “women”
That’s what I feel like when I get into a car accident go to the police station to finish the paperwork and get yelled at by the police man asking me “where my father, brother or uncles are?”
That’s what I feel like when I am having to run after my father to get my passport renewed
That’s what I feel like when my “men” complain about the way I dress, speak, think
That’s what I feel like knowing that at this stage I am as “free” and “independent” as I’ll ever be for a very long time
The Saudi cloud of female oppression looms over my head even when I’m not physically there
I feel like I am living in a bigggg ball, that has a very clear exterior, one which I can roll around in, roaming around, thinking I’m in control only to have one of my “men” bounce me back to my place
They don’t do it out of any guile , or hate, or oppressive tendencies, they do it because they do not know any better and that is truly what they think should be done in order for me to remain the little doll that they keep all shiny , angelic and sweet looking
I love you all, my “men” more than others