I wore the outfit, entered the room, and did not mentally shrink myself before anyone else had the chance

Dear Delyara, The old voice still came. Too visible. Too tired-looking. Too soft. Too old. Not enough. Too much. All of the usual private courtroom language that appears the second a woman’s body is about to be seen. This time, I did not join the prosecution. I wore the outfit. I left the house. I let myself arrive in the room without privately apologising for existing in it first. That matters to me because I am tired of how much of my life I have spent doing the world’s work for it by shrinking myself before anyone even asked. I want that habit to die. This felt like one small blow against it.