Catapult | I Stopped Dyeing My Gray Hair as an Act of Resistance | Mo Perry

A woman’s body is made of eyes. We receive signals, gather feedback, scan reality for our reflections. We collect, like currency, the gazes, touches, and remarks that brush against us. Some of us have built our whole lives on it, can’t imagine what we’ll do when the well of male attention runs dry. Some of us resent the fuck out of the fact that it’s something we need to expend energy on tallying at all, conclude that those who value it are shallow and sad, while secretly hoarding our own small stash, relieved that it’s enough to get us by.


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