When my breasts first arrived, I didn’t quite know how to handle the sudden puberty-induced baggage. As they grew ambitiously in high school into the 36D terrain, I developed a hunch to make them less conspicuous. I thought I’d stop worrying about them in my 30s, but now we are fighting gravity together.

The hotly debated Transgender Persons (Protection of Rights) Bill was passed in the Lok Sabha on Monday, causing activist to declare a “Gender Justice Murder Day.” The community’s frustration is understandable, as their campaign to have a say in the Bill has gone largely ignored for months.

I was clear that if ever I had a child, I would breastfeed him. Yet it wasn’t that simple. My baby and I were unable to sustain a latch. This wasn’t how it was meant to be.

When we tell little girls that they mature faster than their male counterparts, we’re indirectly teaching them that the onus of being the “bigger person” will always be on them. This is how we create a society where women are forced to look after the men in their lives in a way that will never be reciprocated.

When I was five, my friend’s grandfather forced himself on me. I called for help repeatedly but none came. In that moment, inside that MRI machine, I was that little girl whose almost lifeless body was on the floor, being violated.