But wait, you say. If I didn’t want him to talk about my shoes, why did I wear them? A truly serious person would tiptoe barefoot. For some journalists, reporting that I wear high-heeled shoes of various colors and origins apparently passes for a weighty detail that gives some insight into my character. My pink Mizuno sneaker became something else: an implicit raised fist; an insta-badge of feminism. Negotiating a raise? Break out the Mizunos. Want to dream of a more equal world? Wear the Mizunos to bed. Is this feminism’s next wave?

One of the most striking moments comes when I sit in the driver’s seat of a car, fixing my niqab so that only my eyes peer through. I don’t use the niqab because he wants to hide my sexuality from other men, but because I want to keep my sexuality to myself and choose when to present it. You often see me in many societies being objectified because of how I look or being disrespected. The hijab helps force him, who might otherwise be unwilling, to take the focus off my physical appearance.