The shein factories will follow you to the west

I’m going to spend most of my life married to a man I met on my wedding, who’s most likely decades older than me with which whom I’ll have 5+ children with. I’ll be a housewife in a lower working class household and every aspect of my life will be controlled by my husband. Whenever I want to buy some clothes or maybe do something nice for myself or even buy food, I’ll have to ask my husband. And he’ll grumble and groan the entire time—or hell—he’ll even just flat out refuse me. He’ll complain about how I’m always asking him things, how I’m annoying wife. Maybe he’ll even hit me.

Right now, at 16, I’m at the peak of my life. I’ll never experience this level of freedom ever again, and if I do manage to find a way, it’ll have to be all on my own. Without my family, and without the friends I made throughout my life. Freedom—in my eyes—is going to a cafe with a friend or walking them home.

I look around at the people around me and I can’t help but experience immense jealousy. These are people who are allowed to go to groceries after school, or study together with friends. These are people who have bright futures ahead of them. They’ll get jobs, fall in love and build things for themselves, freely. The fact that I’ll never be allowed to pursue any of that without an insane amount of shame and criticism is just baffling to me. 

I hate having to cover up and have shame over everything. I hate having to act like I’ve had decades behind me and that I should hide my used up body because I don’t. I’m not an old elegant lady. I want my hair to be messy and my clothes to be way too big on my body and I want to laugh as loud as I want to.

I want to wear a hat, and I want to ride a bike.

Most of all, I hate all of the people that have what I can’t have. I hate the white girls who say ‘told you so’ when I start doubting my religion. Or the girls who say to just run away or leave my parents behind. 

Just do it, it’s not that big of a deal.

I hate white boys who look at me like I’m an insect, no matter how pretty or skinny I am. I hate white people who have so much events to go to and they just can’t stop complaining that they have to go. I hate pretentious white people who love to listen to their own voice groaning about how they ‘have’ to go to another movie in the cinema or a museum. I hate white people who pursue their passion when they complain about the assignments and deadlines. I hate white girls in short white skirts playing tennis. I hate old white women wearing long boho skirts and eyeliner. I hate rich white boys who sit around a table and drink their lives away. I hate white people who promote Temu codes in their TikTok’s.

I want to talk about something else than the afterlife. It seems like it’s all everyone can think about. My uncles, my aunties, my parents and grandparents. Even my cousins. It’s like we all just can’t wait to die. Sigh…whatever. I’m tired I’m going to sleep