Fifty Shades of Pissed Off

Valentine’s Day rapidly approaching this weekend means the big screen debut of Fifty Shades of Grey will at last arrive as well. Will I, a self-proclaimed sexuality geek, be attending a viewing?

Hail naw.

At the lunch table this afternoon, my coworker described her lack of interest in both the books and the new film, and my boss agreed. Trying my best to not blush, I delivered a close-to-home-yet-pruned-for-work rant about my disgust with Fifty Shades and its heinously inaccurate depiction of the BDSM lifestyle. (more…)

That Time You Wanted to Kill Yourself

As I prepare for a lengthy and fulfilling career as a psychotherapist, one of my greatest fears is how I will help suicidal clients. My thirteen-year-old brother killed himself a week before I turned seventeen, and although his suicide is a topic which regularly invades my mind and which I openly discuss with anyone who asks, I am concerned that in a professional setting, I may not be able to maintain the sufficient emotional composure which my client-therapist relationships will require. Suicide may always be too “close to home” of a topic, despite the time which has passed since Connor’s death. But even as angry, disappointed, and frustrated as I am with Connor for killing himself, his suicide forced me to reconsider my views on the subject. (more…)

My Body Is Disgusting

When people say that their bodies are gross or disgusting, I hear hatred — a long-standing loathing that has spent years brewing. Even when people say that other people’s bodies are disgusting, I still hear self-criticism.

How old were you when you were first ashamed of your body? Most of us first experienced that feeling in childhood, and it has recurred through the rest of our lives.

Shame is learned. We are taught to hate our bodies. Why? Because insecurity sells. Cosmetics, gym memberships, workout gear, fancy cars and purses… It’s all about money.

Most of my teenage years were occupied with hours upon hours of obsessing over every inch of my body. I spent at least twelve hours each week grooming myself 

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That Time I Found a Dominatrix on Craigslist

I’ve had some thought-provoking experiences with Craigslist this past year. However, this recent experience was unique and delightful because I was not looking to sell more of my used undergarments and shoes to the men who my horrified mother refers to as, “those internet perverts”.

(… in that voice, no less.)

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How a Cartoon Show Taught Me That I’m Perverted

Hey! / What a wonderful kind of day / where you learn to work and play / and get along with each other / Hey!

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Ever see Arthur as a child? I grew up watching that show every day after school. Even as an adult, when I stumble upon reruns as I’m channel surfing, I’ll watch an episode or two (or ten) for old times’ sake.

I have a distinctive memory of one episode that forever changed my life. When one of Arthur’s friends rips his pants in front of their third grade class, Arthur begins have nightmares that he will be humiliated by having his underwear exposed at school, too.

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I Feel Like I’m Being Raped (aka The Gray Area Between Yes-Means-Yes and No-Means-No)

Recently, I had an argument with a friend. I had shared a blurb on Facebook about the recent Yes-Means-Yes law enacted in California, and he immediately retorted his disgust before I had even refreshed my homepage.

Rather than have a heated public debate, because I’m lazy, I texted him. Aside from his aggressive and personally attacking comments, the gist of our conversation went as follows:

His argument:  Yes-Means-Yes laws don’t solve any problems because “they said yes” and “they didn’t say no” are both still hearsay in court. These laws substitute kangaroo courts on college campuses for real reform of the criminal justice system. It’s not realistic to expect long term couples to always explicitly and verbally consent to sex, and it’s not appropriate to impose our choice of how people should consent to sex any more than it would be to impose our choice of what sex they should have.

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Naked and Afraid, or Naked and Battered? (aka Wait, You Can Share A Bed Without Having Sex?)

My boyfriend and I are in a brand new relationship, yet we already radiate that “old couple” smell. People who see us together for the first time assume we’ve been together for years. Perhaps that’s in part because we have both prioritized spending time together early on to create and nurture a solid foundation of friendship that will last through the duration of our togetherness. (more…)

The Below-the-Belt War on Women (aka Why You Should Stop Buying “Feminine Washes”)

Sitting in my boyfriend’s dormitory bathroom yesterday, my eyes struck something truly horrid. Unfortunately, it wasn’t just the less-than-maintained toilet bowl in exactly the condition you may expect of average college-aged men… It was much worse.
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Boyfriends Who Look Like Girlfriends: Crossdressing, A Double Standard

A couple years ago, I read a book called My Husband Betty, about Helen Boyd learning to cope with her husband’s cross dressing. Back then, I knew very little about cross dressing, but my knowledge repertoire rapidly expanded as I delved headfirst into this page turner. Betty quickly became a favorite guilty pleasure the day I checked her out from my university’s library.

The book began with a description portraying the double standard** of how it’s considered sexy when a woman wears men’s clothes, but not vice versa. If a woman rolls around on a bed wearing nothing but her male lover’s button-down shirt, it sounds like the description of a perfume ad. We say she’s sexy, she’s sensual, and she’s acting out of love. In contrast, if a man did the same thing for the same reasons, wearing nothing but his female lover’s satin dress slip, it would be for grins. People would laugh at him, they’d ridicule him, and they might even threaten him with physical violence.

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That Time I Sold My Shoes To Creepy Old Men (Foot Fetishism, Part 2)

On a lark, I listed some dirty, old shoes on eBay last summer. Years ago, my collection of shoes hit the 130 mark, and I just don’t have the room (or energy) to love and appreciate most of them anymore. I had heard that it’s possible to make hundreds of bucks on eBay selling used shoes to fetishists, so I figured, hey, why not give it a whirl. I artfully crafted a few listings and crossed my fingers. I mean, I love shoes, shoe fetishists love shoes… boom, instant camaraderie and cash. After all, we’d be looking out for each others’ best interests in a sorta-kinda-almost perverted mutualism, right?

Wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong.  (more…)