A Woman, Her Body

In the grocery store, my second year of college. I’m standing in the checkout lane, a cart full of “necessities” – a new shower curtain liner, shaving cream, Special K. I scan the rack displaying magazines and gum, flip through the latest issue of Glamour.

A woman with my grandmother’s earrings waits in line behind me, tsk-tsking at the cover I’m holding.

Smoother thighs? Better breasts? What are we, chickens?

I laugh in solidarity, put the magazine back on the shelf.

Today, I realize I haven’t picked up another one since.

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