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.
When my daughter asked me to download a filter app for the phone she's allowed to use at home, I thought it was for puppy noses and alien antennae and butterflies flitting around her ears. And it was. But it was also about the Instagram aesthetic - the one that many of us marinate in daily.
I saw a video last week from the co-founder of Keep It Cleaner, Laura Henshaw, where she showed herself applying ever-so subtle filters to her already conventionally beautiful face: to thin her nose just ever so, to plump her cheeks just a tiny bit, widen her eyes by an almost imperceptible fraction, clear a pimple, even her skin tone.