Text and visual by Emilia Sandoghdar
Be in charge of your own Daisy.
He likes me, he likes me not. He likes me, he likes me not.
That’s what I connected to innocent daisies on a field, back in Kindergarten. Yes, I suppose that’s when it started for me. When I was 5. I can’t remember a time I haven’t constructed my own self-image based on my desirability. Perhaps when you’re younger, it’s not directly about sexual desirability, but the male attention you receive. There is no specific age reserved for the perception of the male gaze. I know I’ve always cared.
When I was 5 I felt that I should put a top on. My breasts were not there. The male gaze had become my gaze. The female through the male. Me through him. Me and them. Me and Boys.
Boys Become Men.
Me and Men. Me and Me. Me and one? One man? No, it will always be the anonymity of men as a whole. Them.
They like me, they like me not. Who?