Picture me, in 2019, sitting on a couch at some UMass guy’s house while a party slowly died around me. I only came to this…
Posts published in “Sex and the Smithie”
What I didn’t learn from all my sex education is that getting the news about an STI is terrifying.
It’s a pretty simple story: I was a visionary. A less persistent soldier might have given up: quarantined in a city straddling the Connecticut River with no suitable lovers to straddle me. There were slim pickings on campus and the townies were grody — what’s a girl to do?
I have studied in the U.S. for five and a half years, focusing on politics and reproductive justice. I grew up in Cambodia following a…
This Tuesday, I, a twenty-something lesbian, got my first brazilian wax. I reached this decision after a great deal of deliberation — is it “un-feminist” to get a bikini wax? By paying someone to tear out my pubic hair, am I perpetuating pedophilic Eurocentric beauty standards? Will it hurt a lot and just lead to me getting a bunch of ingrown hairs? But eventually I decided that getting waxed is an experience, and I’ll try anything once.
This September, I was lucky enough to be the breaker-upper or the broken-up-ee three times. This has jump started my romantic career. I went from having one breakup under my belt to four, all in the course of four weeks. I can now scientifically declare myself the Breakup Queen.
My last relationship ended a few months before the pandemic started. Just as I decided to “put myself back out there,” suddenly there was nowhere to go. But now, as the “unprecedented times” excuse looks increasingly flimsy, I am forced to confront the harsh reality that if I want to date someone again I need to do the unthinkable: go on dates.
I am a junior at Smith College. As of now, on September 12, 2021 at 7:56 p.m., due all my friends being in relationships, I will be going on a hunger strike to protest not having a girlfriend at Smith College.
As people received vaccines and Hot Girl Summer was declared across the nation, I watched as my friends, all newly in love from their coronalationships, peaked longingly through the confines of their fortresses.
I may not be the best person to write about marriage. The thought of being officially committed to someone for the rest of my life makes me want to crawl out of my skin and I don’t think I’ll ever get married. Not because I’ve never been in love (although I haven’t), but because the institution of marriage horrifies me.