‘My youth wasn’t a deterrent to his sexual attention, but part of its appeal’

I remember the first time my body felt like a weapon. I was 11, walking to the church with my class when a boy snapped my best friend’s bra strap in an attempt to make her embarrassed. He laughed loudly, the cackle echoing around the acoustics of the church, as her body shrunk itself, slumping in her pew, while the rest of the girls in the class refused to make eye contact. She was embarrassed,...