But here at the bus stop, in the small space of that man’s pupil, I can be made into one thing, then another. I see it in the way he blinks. Whatever I am, it changes every time he moves his paunchy eyes.
On Telling Strange Men that I am Married
Rachel Toliver

I connected with this entire piece, especially this. It perfectly captures how I feel when objectified. Also the part about being a woman just trying to inhabit her body and move from one space to another is

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