ByRabha Ashry

Rabha Ashry is a writer. She hopes to make a career out of her experimental poetry and her no-sugar-coating-allowed feminism. Every few months she writes about this almost writer life on Twitter.

  1. The version of me that my mom spent my whole life trying to bring into existence came alive eight months ago. She took her first steps on Facebook, using my name and my face to hide behind. She used the version of my name that I adopted when I left home and stepped outside the margins of acceptable femininity as drawn and reinforced by mom and her idea of respectable religiosity. Her profile picture, ironically enough, was a…

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