<\/p>\n
I was merely a kid with endless joy and mysterious and curious personalities that varied me from my other siblings, as my parents were used to telling me. Every day I was enthusiastically waiting to get off the prison; a school for me with its broken windows, chairs, and colorless walls made me see it as a prison. My brother and I ran as fast as possible to get home and have our lunch, which was the most delicious food made by my mother pasta with tomato sauce or rice with beans or potatoes; even right now, thinking about it makes me hungry like a wolf. The most exciting part of summer days was after lunch because my friends from all neighborhoods who were the same age gathered on the dusty ground that was at the end of the street. The games we played were the same every day, but it was never dull because we loved each other\u2019s company and the laughter we were bringing to each other\u2019s shining faces. Hide-and-seek was my favorite among all games because adventure always brings much joy to my heart and curious personality.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n Life was going incredible right before I got my first-period cycle when I was only ten years old, which ended my beautiful childhood in a tiny world of mine. That was the first time I felt the difference between my brother and me, making my heart heavy and my childhood miserable. I had no idea what was happening to me. It was like a nightmare seeing blood in a particular part of my body, and I could not stop crying. My world started to get dark and dark day after day because apart from unbearable period cramps, I was prevented from playing outside with other kids, especially with boys. This pain was destroying me every day as I watched my mother give my marbles to my brother and saw my brother learning to ride a bicycle. Then I asked my dad constantly, who was the one paying for everything in a patriarchal society like Afghanistan, to buy me one as he got one for my brother; he repeatedly refused to buy me one. I was never convinced until he told me girls should not ride bicycles. The issue of the bike was not the last change that I faced in my childhood life, and later, while growing up, many other changes appeared that were so heart-touching and confusing for me. It was a tragic event that happened to me and showed me how the difference between gender could be more unfair and violent to one\u2019s rights than the other.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n However, I am not an easy hunt for a patriarchal society like Afghanistan because I never give up on fighting back against these inequalities. If I had stopped fighting, I would have never been the person that I am today. I identify as a feminist, and I know how important it is to be a feminist in this unfair world.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" I was merely a kid with endless joy and mysterious and curious personalities that varied me from my other siblings, as my parents were used to telling me. Every day I was enthusiastically waiting to get off the prison; a school for me with its broken windows, chairs, and colorless walls made me see … Continue reading “The Tragic Change”<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":5,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":"","_ppma_block_editor_authors":""},"categories":[18],"tags":[],"ppma_author":[6],"class_list":["post-585","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-short-stories"],"authors":[{"term_id":6,"user_id":5,"is_guest":0,"slug":"rimtouaghed04","display_name":"Rim Touaghed","avatar_url":"https:\/\/secure.gravatar.com\/avatar\/58e17d1118eae3b2c5859a39cbea129dc24e4ec758d883a03934593e02ba33d1?s=96&d=mm&r=g","author_category":"","user_url":"","last_name":"Touaghed","first_name":"Rim","job_title":"","description":""}],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/trove.aui.ma\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/585","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/trove.aui.ma\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/trove.aui.ma\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/trove.aui.ma\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/5"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/trove.aui.ma\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=585"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/trove.aui.ma\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/585\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":586,"href":"https:\/\/trove.aui.ma\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/585\/revisions\/586"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/trove.aui.ma\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=585"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/trove.aui.ma\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=585"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/trove.aui.ma\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=585"},{"taxonomy":"author","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/trove.aui.ma\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fppma_author&post=585"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}