Isn’t it enough I’ve fought against it with ballet classes every day, often more than one? Do I have to tell you about the letter from a woman who says, “Now in the gym the men stop looking”? Do I have to joke, “Pull the plug if I can’t do ballet,” laugh when a friend says, “I didn’t sleep with him because I’d have to get undressed”? Do I have to remember my mother saying she’d rather be dead than lose her teeth? I think of the friend who says she doesn’t worry about what poem she’ll read but about what she will wear. Another says she wants plastic surgery but doesn’t think it’s right for someone in the arts; shouldn’t she care about loftier things? I think of another woman who will be photographed only in certain positions. Do I have to tell you what I’m thinking about isn’t death?