I stood at my wardrobe and felt tired of trying to choose which version of myself looked most manageable

Dear Delyara, It was about identity and visibility and age and mood and whether I looked too tired, too severe, too soft, too invisible, too obvious, too unconvincing. I stood there holding one black top and one cream one and felt absurdly emotional about how much work there still is in simply being seen as a coherent woman in the world. I think that is one of the quieter exhaustion points no one explains well. Not only doing the life. Presenting as if the life isn’t fraying you in private. I chose the black top. It looked fine. That was never really the question.