David understood. He did notice women’s bodies, and the shame was tantamount. He recalled, “On warm days I would walk across campus feeling like a monster, because I believed that noticing a girl’s body was the spiritual equivalent of something like sexual assault.” Every accidental glimpse of cleavage or a little extra leg was terrible. And at the same time, wonderful. Eventually, he found himself walking around campus, the library, the supermarket, perpetually “hoping to see another accidental glimpse of . . . something.”
