Yesterday I wore a skirt and my black chucks. I felt cute and fresh and young.
In the evening, Emma and I took Sloane to the dog park. I asked her to take a picture of me. Emma is always up for a photo shoot, no matter what side of the camera she’s on. As she positioned herself to take the photo, people appeared from behind the trees at the curve of the trail. I pushed her camera-ed hand down and made her wait until they passed. As if it were a drug deal.
I imagined Emma processing my reaction. If the roles were reversed, she wouldn’t have flinched at having an audience. I worried I had exposed the insecurity and body shame I work hard to protect her from. That she is likely already fully aware of.