I always say that countries that keep women in the backseat will always end up on the wrong side of history.
For me, driving - or the right to drive - is not only about moving from A to B; it's a way to emancipate women. It gives them so much liberty. It makes them independent.
In the Saudi system, women are considered inferior. No matter our age, we have male guardians. We must get permission from men to attend school, to work, to marry, to travel overseas - even to have basic medical procedures.
All I did was ask for rights. I didn't attack anyone. I didn't harass anyone. I didn't oppose the system or the country or the authority. All I said is, 'Why can't I drive?'
I almost got kidnapped trying to find a taxi in the street. In Saudi Arabia, it's not normal for a woman to walk in the street alone, and I don't cover my face, so I am an open target.
I love my sons, I love my husband, and I love my country. But in kingdoms of men, there are few - if any - choices for women. Or the choices are such that there is no greater pain than having to choose.
Women tell me they are different since 21 May - the day I was arrested - it's a positive change, they believe now.
My mother gave birth to me on the floor of our apartment in Mecca with only my toddler sister to help her because my father was at work and no male guardian was available to take her to a hospital.
I'm just a human being who would not accept being wronged.
