The book

The woman I am in 2026 can never return to the child I was in 1990—before I knew anything of teacher-student sexual relationships; before I understood the desirability of my breasts and my arse; before I learned how grown men act giddy in the presence of a naked teenage girl; before I understood how men found vulnerability intoxicating; before innocence and depravity collapsed in on themselves, before that summer at the start of 1990.