My daughter doesn't have any lines on her face. She's 11.
But when she gets her hands on a mobile phone, she takes pictures of herself and then runs them through a filter app that makes her already-smooth skin look almost alien, otherworldly, 2D.
The app also makes her lips plumper and pinker, and her lashes darker and longer. More fluttery.
Watch: How to improve your daughter's relationship with body image. Post continues below.
Her eyes take on an extra twinkle, and change shade, ever so slightly, from the grey-blue she was born with to a darker, deeper, periwinkle blue that, presumably, has been algorithmically proven to be more pleasing.
It freaks me out, when I pick up a phone and see those pictures on the photo reel.
Who is that girl? She looks like my daughter. But she's not. She's a simulation of my daughter, tweaked and smoothed just enough to look right at home on... Instagram?
A few weeks ago I wrote about the privilege of parenting a child who is alive, well, and in my arms every night.
I wrote about how the luxury of freaking out about phone filters when there are children not safe in their parents' care feels small, ridiculous.