She was eighteen years old when she took her first selfie. She does not remember how she felt exactly. But she remembers it was in her grandma's house in the hills, during then rainy months.
It was in the bathroom, under dim lights, with the chill and gloom from outside seeping in. Probably.

It is hard to say why she has always had this slight feeling of uneasiness, or even guilt, about selfies.
Was it because society made her think that way? Was it because of her upbringing which was a shade more conservative than usual? She didn't know. But a selfie, as alluring and enticing as it was, always
made her feel like a part of her privacy had been slightly violated.

Even talking about it seemed like a taboo to her. She got herself to open up about it to her friends for the first time when she was twnty-five. And she was fully thirty-seven before, in a faraway
land and among strangers, she had the courage to walk into a sex store and buy her first actual
selfie-taker.