Decades after learning to hand over my physical autonomy to others, I am coming back into my own body — In childhood photos of me, I recognize the kid, but don’t recognize myself. Either I am dissociating now, or was dissociating then. Or both. The child has an invisible frown plastered on her face, posing as no-nonsense-ness. On rare occasions, she smiles at the camera, but the smile is cautious…
