I’m embarrassed. I’m embarrassed for the objectification and I’m embarrassed by my fear. I’ve been dealing with this for thirty years and it doesn’t change. Wasn’t it supposed to have gone away by now? It didn’t go away during my pregnancy or when I walked with a baby nestled in a wrap against my chest. It didn’t magically evaporate on my fortieth birthday. Shouldn’t that be one of the benefits of age? Or am I buying into an ageist way of thinking, that I might one day be seen by strangers as something beyond my sex appeal?
