I hadn’t planned to watch the Golden Globes. I had heard about the initiative to wear black to show solidarity and I thought it was great to see a movement, but I was dubious about the stage of an awards show being the platform. A part of it may also be that as I age it’s less magical to watch the pomp and circumstance. The young women, the older women, the hot young actors, the grizzled-and-still-deemed-hot-older-actors—it can be hard to make peace with the freedom to have work done or not have work done, to choose to be sexy or to not. I might feel sheepish watching in sweats while eating pizza. My point is activism and life both come with flaws, some cosmetic, others…

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