After passing out of childhood years and into the age of puberty, I, like most women, entered a three-decade phase of my life that included an age of puberty and young adulthood that was peppered with the sexual abuse, sexism in the workplace, mommy wars, pay gaps, and gendered put-downs that few females escape. It was a significant chunk of time. The concerns feminism undertook during those years were critical, and they continue to be. I am grateful to all the women and men who fought and continuously champion women's fairness, reproductive rights, and freedom from brutality and harassment. It is gutsy and necessary work.

But then something happened, and if not for the mirrors in my house, I would be very confused about what shifted and why. Young women, you'll experience this too, some day. You'll catch your reflection and your breath at the same time and be abruptly reminded that your facade no longer matches how you feel inside, and that it now undermines the power of your voice, the tone that took ten years to build up. I was discussing this to a good friend recently who is 49, one year younger than I am. She said, "Oh wow. I remember my grandma telling me the exact same thing about being surprised by her appearance in the mirror because she still felt like a young woman inside, and she was 80." So this most likely will not end for me, nor for any of us given the gift of not dying early. It bears keeping in mind.