My Becoming archive

My Archive of Becoming

The following is the archive of my memory of how gender, violence, resistance, and selfhood unfolded across time, not in theory, but in breath, body, and silence.

Each entry traces how I was seen, erased, shaped, and reclaimed. It is not written to be explained, because words are not enough to describe a person’s experience, or justify one’s existence. I invite you to be the witness of my survival, my cause and my becoming.

Early

Becoming

Internal

Conflict

Systemic

Violence

Reclaiming

my Voice

Present

Becoming

A Whisper

2000

My Becoming Journey Map

2009–2014

2015–2023

Late 2023–2024

2025–Present

...

I was named, but not yet known.

My dad called me Fils, which means 'son' in French, but I was already singing in another tongue.

This was not connected to any gender theory. It was just a moment that felt normal, and never did he know he was planting a seed of a war I will fight alone.

🕯️ 2000–2002

My aunt and mom used to dress me in dresses, blouses, and skirts.

They dressed me in these clothes, unconsciously, because of their low financial capacity to buy me expensive clothes. Mom was already a tailor and vendor of these clothes, so I wore them.

I was not even aware of which is for men, which one is for women.

And again, for society, I think they took it casual, and tolerated it because I was a child.

What began as dressing from necessity now evolved into admiration, imitation, and becoming.

The first time I started to learn feminine traits.

I was inspired by my sister who nurtured me emotionally, and I loved her voice and confidence and simply everything. I was not interested in the boys’ circles.

This moment made me love my sister, and I think I started to even adopt some of her behaviors unconsciously — foundations, lipsticks, lip gloss, wigs, nail paint, they slowly became familiar to me, not as tools of beauty, but as traces of becoming.

🕯️ 2002–2005

🕯️ 2005–2009

My first time at school, and unconscious shifts in preferences. I started to feel bored of doing things that were normally considered for other boys, such as playing soccer, playing and doing games, all were not my interests.

I often used to focus on my studies and self-exploration. Books slowly became companions, and silence turned into a space where I could exist without being corrected.

🕯️ 2009–2010

The first time I was told I walk like a girl , marked by violence and psychological abuse. This is when my femininity began to manifest.

In this period, I was heavily attacked by my fellow students, other peers who could see me, and everywhere I could go, some whispered, some directly abused and insulted me, some physically and emotionally attacked me, telling me my gait is unusual, I walk like a girl, and it was not accepted.

I felt embarrassed, scared, and confused, and started editing myself, but this did not stop their violence. Shame, confusion, panic became daily shadows. My gait, the way I carried myself, all became punishable. I was not just seen. I was scanned, marked, and rejected for moving the way I did.

🕯️ 2012–2014

My first experience in high school was peril. In 2015, I was ragged, sexually coerced by my senior class fellows who undressed me and tortured me physically and mentally, and when I reported them, the school authority did not punish them fairly.

This violence continued, and I was often told to edit myself and make them comfortable. I could not do it. Neither my friends nor the school authority could defend someone like me, so I chose to remain numb. And I did not even tell it to my parents, as I felt they had no power to advocate for me.

Trauma, shame, loneliness, insecurity, betrayal, these became my landscape. I carried my soft voice, my feminine gait, and my behaviors like wounds, not ornaments. My expression became a threat. My body became a battlefield. And no one came.

I stopped hoping for change around me. I started shrinking my presence to survive. I watched myself become a silent witness to my own fading, not because I was weak, but because I had no shield, no name for what was happening. The war was no longer out there. It had entered my body. And I did what many of us do: I disappeared in public. I swallowed my scream.

🕯️ 2015–2023

At the time, it felt disconnected, like random acts, like innocent play. But now I see it cas the beauty of momentariness.
Each of these moments, unconscious or silenced, were the seeds. They were random, but never an accident, and were a choreography of my becoming.

I became self-aware, got recognized as a human dignity advocate, and mentored young leaders with empathy, human-oriented communication, and problem-solving skills. I was trained on the human dignity curriculum and became a Certified Human Dignity Advocate by the World Youth Alliance. I was also trained in the Majlis technique of discussion by the Doha Debates experts through its Doha Debates Ambassadors Program cohort 2024, and I served as a mentor for the next cohort.

This program nurtured my growth and helped me to understand myself and others.

I learned compassion, empathy, and humanity in its pure form. I was seen not as someone to be corrected, but as someone capable of guiding. Gratitude, calm, and a sense of being valued began to replace numbness. My voice, once silenced, became something others listened to. A heart, a microphone, and a compass finally belonged in the same body.

🕯️ Late 2023–2024

This is the time when I started remembering and grieving, and reclaiming my lost childhood, and resisting the gender norms through the Japanese Butoh dances and Opera performances. I unapologetically started to embrace all the traits I was punished for.

I wore a skirt to remind myself and others that skirts, labels, and societal boxes cannot define who I am. I performed Butoh and Opera to challenge social norms, particularly gender stereotypes. I became an author and advocate, raising awareness of gender stereotypes through writing and digital storytelling.

I authored and published research and books, challenging gender norms.

I started the Miroir project to resist gender norms and control, and adopted an undeniable truth-telling vision. I am no longer hiding, I am no longer asking to belong, and I must name what they tried to unname.

🕯️ 2025–Present

I am not finished, I am still becoming...