I have recently taken to watching soccer. My Little Sister plays, and I’ve been going to her games most weekends. Her mother brings a chair for me, we sit in the sun (this being southern California), and she explains the meaning of offsides and corner kicks.
I’m not much of a sports fan, but I’ve found myself wishing that I’d played more sports when I was a girl. Other than a brief flirtation with gymnastics when I was six, I was not an athletic child. I read for hours at a time, took piano lessons, won the spelling bee, and did everything in my power to get out of playing dodge ball in gym class.
It’s not that I feel I missed my opportunity to be an Olympic champion, because I’m pretty sure that was never going to happen. It took me a while to figure out what I liked about the vibe of the games, and I finally realized what it was: Every weekend, there are a bunch of men looking at a group of girls and not checking out where they fall on the sexual desirability scale.

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