“Just because I am strong does not mean I can’t have moments of weakness.”

A couple days ago someone rejected me. They rejected me in a hurtful way without caring how it made me feel.

I find myself now lingering in a weird place.

So I’d like to write about it.

I went Monday evening to hangout for a second time with a man I met on a dating app. The first time we hung out we discussed several things that lead me to accept that he and I would never be in a serious relationship. Still, I enjoyed hanging out, and making out, and felt open to a casual, even sex-based relationship.

On Monday we had sex. I knew we were going to. It was okay I suppose, but not only did he not eat my pussy…he didn’t even touch my pussy! It was pure penetration, for only a few minutes, and then it was over. This is after a full in person conversation about what I enjoy in bed and what gets me off. But that didn’t matter to him.

He explained to me that he would only eat pussy if he was really attracted to or really cared about his partner. So….not me.

He said that he “wasn’t sure” if I was going to “work out” for him, so he thought he would “try it out”. “Try me out” like test driving a car. Try me on like a pair of sneakers at a store. Objectified.

I left his apartment without even a goodbye. All I said was, “guess I’ll never see you again”.

This is just sticking to me. Hearing those words in my head over and over again. That my body isn’t good enough for him. That my good intentions and kindness throughout our brief time together did not warrant kindness in return. That I was good enough to cum inside but not good enough for anything more, for returned pleasure, or even for respect.

And listen, it is okay to not be attracted to me. I’m not attracted to everyone either. It is a different thing to knowingly use me just to then throw me away like trash.

If you knew you weren’t attracted to me, why did you have sex with me?

Fat girls like me get this treatment a lot.

I’m strong. I don’t usually feel strong but I am. I’ve survived years of child abuse, multiple sexual assaults, several mental illnesses, self-harm, and a suicide attempt. Despite it all I obtained a degree, have lived in two major cities, and now have a great job at one of the most valuable companies on planet earth. I did that. And yet these small rejections still leave me feeling shattered…

I know all the cliches. “Don’t let one guy get you down.” “You don’t deserve to be treated like that.” Yea, I know…

I KNOW that I don’t deserve that. I KNOW that there is someone out there that would want me and make me feel wanted and treat me with respect. I KNOW that I shouldn’t let this ASSHOLE get me down. And yet I open my eyes in the dark of the night to an overwhelming feeling of worthlessness…

I have spent so many years actively working to demolish the idea that my worth is based on my looks, weight, or ability to attract men. I feel very strongly that I have made a ton of progress in this department. So it is hard to admit (to both myself and others) that a small rejection could affect me so much.

I try to take it easy on myself. Sure, that sometimes means not letting douchebags get to me. But right now it means allowing myself to feel pain and not judging myself for it. Just because I am strong does not mean I can’t have moments of weakness.

It is hard not to judge yourself! The voice in my head is always telling me things like, “you shouldn’t be this upset about something stupid” or “you should be over that by now” or “you shouldn’t be so negative”. The common word there is “should”. I should be this, I shouldn’t be that. Well I AM. I AM sad. I AM hurt. I AM discouraged.

The feeling will end.

Remember that.

No matter how low you feel, there is hope for a brighter tomorrow. And because of this lack of permanence, you should never make a permanent decision based on temporary feelings.

If I hurt myself because of some shitty thing a guy said to me, I will never be able to take it back. If I choose to shut myself out from dating because of some bad experiences than I will never have the chance to have a positive one.

I look back on other times I’ve felt this way in the past and I laugh. I’m sure we all have this in common. I felt so horrible in that moment and now it is a blip in my expansive journey line. One day this rejection will be just the same.


Anonymous Bitch








Am I a Slut?

So I had a one night stand this past weekend. Or at least what I assume will be a one night stand. In the past few months I haven’t dated much but have slept with two men, neither of which I have heard from since the night we had sex. Which is fine.

I’ll throw ya some quick highlights of the most recent hookup. Here we go:

  • Wasted at a house party
  • Had sex on a (horrible) air mattress with a friend asleep on a nearby couch
  • He licked my foot? I was on my back with my legs over his shoulders and he pulled my foot in front of his face and licked/sucked it. So that happened…
  • I let him try to put it in my ass. I verbally gave him consent to. It hurt like a bitch (as it always does, what was I thinking?) and he felt really bad about it.

That is everything even worth mentioning honestly.


I was recently talking to my mom on the phone, discussing a recent romantic encounter a friend of mine had. My mom gets to hear all the hot gossip. I tell her everything and she eats it right up. We talk for hours on the phone about all the drama going on in my friend circle.

Part of the story I was telling her featured a friend of mine sleeping with a man the same day that she met him. My mom apparently cannot avoid saying cliche mom shit. She verbally shamed my friend for sleeping with this man so quickly.

It is hard to balance my values within my familial relationships. Almost all of the generation before me in my family, even some of the liberal ones, have values that directly contradict with mine. I am very thoughtful about how I respond to them and educate them without attacking them. I try to ask questions as opposed to making statements, to allow them to explain where they are coming from and hopefully make them think. I seek to understand.

During this particular phone call with my mom I decided it was not worth getting into so I let it slide. I responded with a general exasperated “oh come on, mom”, knowing she would understand that as “it’s 2019!” and we could move on.

But it did leave me thinking about what I would want to say if I really really could. Like if her and all those in my family or even in the world who subscribe to slut-shaming were sitting in front of me unable to interrupt me and truly willing to absorb a new point of view (lol as if that would ever happen), what would I say?

I often tell people that I am a deconstructionist. I’m not sure if that is a real theoretical term, or if I made it up, but it is pretty darn perfect to describe how I view societal norms and my world around me in general.

I see memes and posters everywhere that say, “the most dangerous phrase in the English language is, ‘but we’ve always done it that way'”. That is a great starting point to explain what I mean by deconstructionism. I notice that a lot of people live by rules and norms that have no true “reason” other than “that’s how it’s always been.” Why is it bad to have a one night stand? “Well cause it is, everyone has always known that.” Okay, well, why?

Always ask “why”.

Since I always ask “why”, I am able to understand that societal norms are ARTIFICIALLY CONSTRUCTED. Of course, that is not an original thought of mine; take any sociology class at any major university and you’ll get the same message. I hope to inspire others to ask “why” when thinking about sociological/political issues.

So here is how I picture the *ideal* conversation around slut-shaming would go with my mom:

The question: WHY do you think it is bad to have casual sex?

Potential answers:

(omg side note, it is so hard to think of these answers as someone who does not agree)

  • “Because you should only have sex in a committed relationship”
    • Why should you only have sex in a committed relationship?
      • “Because sex is a special thing that you should only do with someone that you trust”
        • Why should you only have sex with someone you trust?
          • “Because you can risk disease”
            • But I use protection and regularly am tested for STDs. Is there another reason?
          • “Because you can risk pregnancy”
            • But I am on birth control and use protection. Is there another reason?
        • What makes sex special?
  • “Because you shouldn’t have sex with a lot/too many people”
    • Why shouldn’t you have sex with a lot of people?
      • See previous responses on disease/pregnancy
      • “Because you don’t want to be considered a slut”
        • What are the negative consequences of being considered a slut?
          • “People will think less of you and/or bully you”
            • Why would people think less of me based on how many people I have slept with?
              • “Because it is bad to sleep with a lot of people”
                • Okay, why is it bad? (return to beginning)
            • Does that mean you approve of bullying others based on their personal choices that do not harm or affect anyone else?
    • How many people is too many to have sex with?
  • “Because my religion says that you should wait until marriage to have sex”
    • Okay, well my religion does not say that/I do not believe in any religion. Should all people follow the rules of YOUR religion?
  • “Because being promiscuous can cause mental health issues”
    • Why do you think casual sex causes mental health issues?
  • “Because a man (or partner) will not want to be with someone who has slept around a lot”
    • I do not want to be with someone who values me based on how many people I have had sex with. Therefor, is it still bad to sleep around?
    • Why would a potential partner not want to be with someone who has slept around?
      • “Because it is bad to sleep around”
        • Okay, why? (return to beginning)
      • “Because they view sex as sacred and want to be their partners only sexual experience”
        • Why do they view sex as sacred?

(ok I am now running out of potential objections so I Googled “why is it bad to have casual sex” and it is returning articles that mostly talk about positive effects of having casual sex lol. An example if you are curious: click here)

Submission from a friend:

  • “Because why buy the cow when you can have the milk for free?”
    • Is that implying that a partner is only interested in being in a committed relationship in order to have sex? (aka the only “milk” or benefit in a committed relationship is sex?)
    • Is that under the assumption that the person sleeping around has marriage as a goal? If not, is it still bad to sleep around?

I’m running out here.

When I asked my friends to brainstorm more objections, one of them brought up sex addiction and sexual abuse. I want to make it clear that I in no way mean to invalidate the decision to NOT be promiscuous. I in no way encourage anyone to be unsafe. I in no way mean to shame anyone who has experienced sexual violence resulting in intimacy issues (I am one of them). I in no way encourage others to use sex as a security blanket or to fill some sort of void, just as I would not encourage anyone to use drugs, alcohol, or anything else for that matter to avoid dealing with personal issues. What I do intend to say: all people have ownership of their bodies, and should be allowed to make their own decisions about what is right for those bodies, whether they’d prefer to sleep around, remain celibate, or anywhere in the middle with whatever (adult and consenting) partners they choose.

Here are my general rules regarding casual sex and sex in general:

  • DO make your own decisions for your body without influence from others
  • DO NOT engage your body in any activity that you are not comfortable with, regardless of the desires of others
  • DO ensure that your sexual partner gives consent and is on the same page, regardless of how casual the situation is
  • DO NOT equate sex to your self worth or the worth of others, regardless of who with, how often, or how you have sex
  • DO practice safe sex (including birth control, STD prevention, and caution around being alone with strangers)
  • DO NOT shame others for their sexual choices, regardless of what those choices are

So, to the title question, am I a slut? I would say, if “slut” is defined as someone with many sexual partners, the answer is yes. Yes, I am a slut.

Does it matter that I am a slut? Nah.


Anonymous Bitch






Dating Sucks.

“Did I think that a man would like me more if I was stupid?”

So first of all I’m stoned and I just went on a really shitty date. What a waste of a fucking night. Anyways…

We went to dinner. The conversation was bad. This was our third date but it was the worst. We shared a milkshake which was pretty cute.

He was supposed to come home with me. We had discussed even before the date that I wanted him to come over. We had already slept together once.

We went up to my apartment and we could hear that there were people talking inside. He freaked out. I was like, “are you coming or not?” He hesitated so I said, “Alright just go home then.” So he did.

Like I said…waste of a fucking night.

The reason I wanted to write about this was not about how shitty the date was but more about something I realized about my behavior on the date.

I kept calling myself stupid. I called myself “stupid” and “dumb” multiple times.

Why the fuck would I call myself stupid? I don’t think I’m stupid. I don’t think that people think I’m stupid. I’m not a rocket scientist but I am a smart person.

Did I think that a man would like me more if I was stupid?

For some context: he is a “machine learning engineer”, basically he programs artificial intelligence robots. I work in sales. He would tell me about his job and my socialized ass was trying to somehow compliment him by putting myself down?

Not sure what’s up with that but I’m going to make sure I don’t do that ever again. I don’t want men to think I’m stupid, I don’t want to be with a man that wants to be with a woman who is stupid or calls herself stupid, and I don’t want to be selling myself short to other people in general.

Watch out for this shit ladies.



Warning: I’m going to share my story and my “political opinions” here.

I have thought about writing this post for a while. I’m starting it now after about an hour of swiping through dating apps on my phone. On OkCupid the system asks you whether or not you support defunding Planned Parenthood. If you say no it puts this little badge on your profile that says “#IStandWithPP”. My immediate reaction is “what a weird thing to put on a dating profile.” I suppose sex politics are so big right now, such a “hot topic”. It makes sense that you’d look for someone who shares your values.


When I think about the whole defund PP thing, my main thought is this – what would I have done without PP when I got pregnant.

I wanna share my abortion story because I think it’s important for these experiences to be heard by people who may be in a similar situation, but also and maybe more importantly by people who have not and maybe never will be able to relate.

Warning: I’m going to share my story and my “political opinions” here.

The media, religious institutions, our educational system, and politicians both Dem and Rep alike talk about abortion as a traumatizing experience, a “difficult decision”, and a cause for lifelong regret. Though some women may have an experience like this, studies show that it is simply not reality for the majority of women who elect to have an abortion.

Since I’m not writing a research paper here, I encourage you to check out this interesting Slate article that shares the statistics here. Meanwhile I’ll move on…

The facts are that the majority of women find the decision easy to make AND don’t feel regret afterwards. I am one of these women.

I got pregnant my junior year of college. My period was like two weeks late and every day I’d go to the bathroom to inspect myself looking for blood, to no avail. I took an at home pregnancy test but those things are harder to read than you’d think. So I made an appointment at Planned Parenthood to get a pregnancy test done. I didn’t even research what to do or where to go, I simply knew that PP would be able to help.

I was having morning sickness. Heads up to potential moms out there…you can get morning sickness super early in. I brought my friend with me to the appointment. They had me pee in a cup. They also gave me a drug to calm my nausea. They wouldn’t let my friend into the office with me but then when the result came they let her hear it with me. I should’ve known the result from that alone.

When she told me I was pregnant I teared up immediately. Before they give you the test they ask you if the test comes out positive if you would “terminate” or not. After she told my result she asked me if I still wanted to terminate. I did not even hesitate in saying yes.

This decision was not hard for me to make. Being a 21 year old mom was completely out of the question. I’m 24 now and I would still make the same decision then or now. I feel zero regret. I made the medical decision that was right for me. I’m sure this will offend some people but the doctor took an ultrasound and told me the “fetus” (not even a fetus yet technically I just don’t know the proper word) was the size of a pea. That’s not a baby to me. I was early on enough that I did not even need any surgical procedure. I would just have to take two pills and it would be done. I scheduled the appointment.

The cost for this was about $500 if I remember correctly. I was a college student and did not have an income so I needed help. I told my aunt and she told me she’d pay for it. She was the first person that I called. At the time I wasn’t sure if I was going to tell my mom. My aunt encouraged me to, and I agreed. I told my sister and she agreed to help me tell my mom.

I sat my mom down in her room. It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. My sister was there. I just said, “mom, I made a very adult mistake and now there are some very adult consequences.” I told her about the appointment, and then I told her my plan. I described the medical procedure, the cost, everything, including that my aunt would pay for it. Her eyes were welling up with tears but she was calm. She just said “okay”. She told me that she would make the same decision if she was in my shoes. She harped on the importance of not letting my father know. Then she told me she would pay for it.

*Sidebar about how lucky I am to have family members who are supportive and financially able to help me. I know not all women have this same privilege.*

Before they give you the pills they make you watch a video on abortion. I’m assuming this is supposed to be a last attempt at shaming you out of it.

You take one pill at the office and then another several hours later at home. It is super easy and relatively painless. They also give you pain medication to use, and an anti-nausea pill.

I bought a cheap pair of velour sweatpants and a set of Disney’s Frozen themed adult underwear from Walmart. I put them on and took my second pill. This pill essentially makes you have a period. It makes your uterus contract, which can cause cramping. It just felt like a heavy period. I bled a decent amount. It was all over within 12 hours. No regrets.

My friends at the time shamed and bullied me. Most of those people are no longer my friends. They talked about it behind my back. One girl expressed that it bothered her that I wasn’t struggling more with it. They gossiped about it as if it couldn’t have been them ten million other times, all of the other times where they had their own pregnancy scare. As if because maybe I’m more fertile and it wound up being real for me and not them that I was some sort of slut and a monster for not falling into a depression over making the decision to terminate. Even though of course they even admit that they would have done the same thing.

Maybe the reason my experience bothered them was because they’ve been told all their lives that abortion is sad and traumatizing and shameful. I’ll be even bolder in saying that JUST MAYBE some women only end up having this negative experience because they too were socialized into thinking that they’re supposed to feel scared and ashamed and sad. Maybe that’s why the only stories we hear about are those negative ones, because people like me are told that it’s fucked up that the experience was easy for us, so we don’t share our story.

We are living in a political climate where the administration wants to defund women’s healthcare programs which will minimize access to birth control and family planning services…which WILL, as history shows us, increase things like unwanted pregnancies, teen pregnancies, etc…but ALSO wants to defund programs that help families in poverty, single parents, etc. So I’m confused. You say it is morally wrong to abort a pregnancy, you force women to go through with unwanted pregnancies, but then you’re like “nope, poor people are lazy, no healthcare for you or your baby!” Like can you explain this thought process to me?

So the story comes full circle…back to the topic of PP. I am so privileged in having the financial means to pay for the abortion. However, not all women share in my privilege. Gender equality will not exist until we have a society and government that recognizes female health needs as legitimate, and creates a system where this healthcare is accessible to all.

Again, I really recommend this article from Slate, and I always urge you to do more research and fact checking.

If you are reading this and you’re feeling some type of way about an experience of your own…please don’t feel alone or unsupported. So many women have shared your experience.

Up until 2008 it was believed that one in every three women would have an abortion by age 45. One third! That is so many women that you probably know in your own life that have this shared experience even if they don’t talk about it.

Since 2008 (Obama administration, cough) the abortion rate has done down. The one in three statistic is most likely no longer accurate. See this article from The Washington Post for some fact checking on this particular statistic.

My final note is this – I share my experience because it is real and raw and I know there are others who may find it relatable. I also share it in an attempt to hack away at the stigmatization of abortion. I do NOT share my experience with the intention or assertion that anyone else’s feelings are not valid. I recognize and respect that some women may truly feel sadness, pain, or regret about their abortion and that is okay. I know that I made the right decision for myself and my body, though my decision may not be right for everybody.




I’ve been postless for a while now, the cause for that also being the cause for this post. I was seeing one guy for a while in a somewhat serious way, though that ended mutually just a few days ago.

I always knew it wasn’t a long term thing for several obvious reasons, but along the way he said some stuff that really sealed the deal. I thought that it might be fun to make a list right here of all of the garbage things that this guy said to me over the course of our relationship. I suppose this will double as a venting exercise as well.

1. Sometimes you sacrifice and allow yourself to feel pain and discomfort to sexually please someone that you love.

HELL TO THE NO. I will NEVER put myself in pain or extreme discomfort no matter how much I love someone. Just because I am in a relationship does not mean that I sacrifice the standards I have for my own body. I will never love someone else more than I love myself.

For some context: this arose because he, like every fuckin guy ever, wanted to do anal. I told him a billion times that I’ve tried anal with every relationship I’ve ever been in to finally realize that I hate it and it hurts so bad that I literally cry afterwards. So this mofo tells me that in relationships you do stuff like that for the person you love. NO BITCH. If you loved me you would not want to feel sexual pleasure while I was in extreme unwanted physical pain. Fuck you.

2. Sometimes sex isn’t about both people.

Hmmmm… Sex is about both people. Sometimes one person doesn’t cum or you try something new for the one of you that is into it or whatever but at no time is my sex not for me. That is what prostitutes are for. Men have this fantasy that we get all sorts of pleasure from getting them off because that is literally what society teaches them. I get that sometimes it’s hot to have a quickie in a non-traditional way, you know, one of those times you spontaneously just like bend over or whatever. But if we are in bed and have all the time in the world we are both gonna get off.

ALSO, I should not have to ASK you to get me off, are you kidding? You cum and then we’re just done?! You don’t care whether or not I get off? Wtf is that?! What kind of man are you?! Not tryna play to gender roles here so…what kind of HUMAN are you?!?

I would tell him in these situations that it made me upset and he would act like I was some kind of sex maniac for being upset. I always said to him, “imagine if every single time we had sex I got off and then you only got off when I ‘felt like it'”. One time he was supposed to sleepover but then literally got up and started getting dressed to go home because I told him I shouldn’t have to ask. But for REAL….IMAGINE if you had sex with a man and you came and then just rolled over to go to bed…he would be FURIOUS. Imagine how a man would react to that…

3. Shut up.

DO NOT EVER TELL ME TO SHUT UP. Towards the end of the relationship he would say this to me constantly. I’m not talking about joking around or teasing, he would constantly tell me to shut up if he didn’t like what I was saying, or if he wasn’t in the mood to talk, or honestly I don’t know why he’d say it sometimes. RESPECT ME because I deserve it.

4. You’re dramatic and what you’re saying about me is made up in your head.

None of my feelings were ever valid. If I said something he didn’t want to hear it was just “me being dramatic”. I asked him once if he would tell me I was being dramatic if he hit me and I was upset about it. Regardless of whether or not you think my feelings are an overreaction these are my feelings and I can’t change them. To mediate them I try to communicate so we can talk it out so that I DON’T become overdramatic.

I told this fucker that I felt he was losing interest in me and he told me it was all made up. MEANWHILE he has stopped cuddling me at night, refuses to kiss me almost all the time, DELETED THE PICTURES HE HAD OF ME OFF HIS SOCIAL MEDIA, comments on other girls posts with tongue emojis and shit, and is posting constantly online about how he is bored and things he looks for in women, etc as if this fucker is already single…..those things are FACTS? You actually did those things. It seems that he was experiencing a touch of Donald Trump syndrome.

5. I take too long to cum.

No words.

He said that the reason he wouldn’t get me off every time was because his wrist would hurt from touching me for too long. It’s not like I take a half hour it’s literally maximum like 5-7 minutes maximum. Also maybe I would cum faster if you would eat the fuckin pussy!!!! I blew him all the time and over the course of 7 months he only went down on me twice. The kicker is that he would always post on his ratchet ass Instagram account memes about eating pussy, loving to eat pussy, his “tongue game”. One time I said “who’s pussy you been eating? Cause it’s not mine.”

Because I can relate somewhat…you know I’ve been there where you’re sucking dick so long that it’s painful…so I proposed a solution. I said we could get a vibrator and he could use that on me and it would be more effective and would take less effort on his part. And this guy told me he “wasn’t into that”. New solution: WE’RE OVER.

Today’s lesson: trust your gut when you know something is wrong. I knew when he said this stuff to me that he was not the kind of person that I wanted, nor the kind of person that deserved my time, attention, sex, or love. Cut the cord before feelings get hurt once you know something is off. Save yourself from douche bags like this. You won’t regret it.



“You think my pussy is worth the $8 it cost you to get me that vodka soda that came in a clear plastic solo cup?”

Today I was with a male co-worker and a male client at lunch. My client asked me, “Why do women have to go to the bathroom in packs when they are at a club or a bar?”

My immediate response: “Because we need to stay together to protect each other.”

I don’t think he liked my answer.

The reality is that nights out on the town can get scary when you’re a woman. I have been quite the party animal from a young age, so I have plenty of experience on the party scene. My most recent experiences have been in the city; at bars, clubs, lounges, happy hours, restaurants, and more. I have been the protector and the protected. I have been forced to fight off men, verbally and even physically, both for myself and for the people I care about. I have been made to feel so uncomfortable that I have left bars where I do not feel safe. I have held my friends as they leave clubs in tears after being grabbed at like a piece of meat. I have seen it all it seems.

Just a quick disclaimer: I don’t mean to sound dramatic. My friends and I have fun. There are plenty of decent establishments out there that don’t tolerate sexual misbehavior of any kind. I have met perfectly decent men that have either approached myself/my friends respectfully and/or actually aided in our rescue from other men. Unfortunately, the frequency at which the social experience becomes dark is so high that I still feel this is worth posting about.

Don’t know what I’m talking about?

When men accuse you of being a lesbian because you are not interested in their advances.

(Because there is no possible way that a straight woman could maybe just NOT BE INTERESTED.)

When you tell an aggressive man to back off so he just moves on to a friend.

(I meant BACK OFF. None of us are interested in your inappropriate behavior.)

When men come up behind you and touch your body without asking.

(In no way is it ever okay to touch someone’s body without consent. Ever. It is not sexy to violate someone, regardless of the setting or whether or not they have been drinking. Who taught you that my body was your property?)

When men become irate because you won’t sleep with them even though they bought you a drink.

(Really? You think my pussy is worth the $8 it cost you to get me that vodka soda that came in a clear plastic solo cup? You could buy me a live fucking tiger and it wouldn’t mean that I owe you sex.)

When men insult you after they hit on you and you reject them.

(Just because I am not interested in you sexually doesn’t mean I deserve to be bullied. Just because I said “I’m sorry, not tonight”, doesn’t mean I am a horrible person that deserves to be called names. Is your ego really that fragile?)

When you straight up say “no” to a man and they just won’t back off.

(Why don’t men know that “no” means “no”?)

About a year ago I was at a bar (that I haven’t been to since) with my current roommate/best friend. We were approached by two men that were somewhat dorky and average looking (not that that is relevant to their behavior). The one that spoke to me was a try hard. He was clearly spitting game at me. He asked me where I went to school, and when I told him he went off about how he has visited that campus so many times and loved partying there. I asked him what his favorite bar was on campus…and he couldn’t name one.

I called him out. I told him not to make things up, that he didn’t need “lines” to impress me, that I would prefer he just talk to me. At first I thought he understood.

He kept saying a lot of aggressive things asserting that I wasn’t interested in him, and challenging me. As if I should tell him now if I’m not going to sleep with him so that he doesn’t have to make small talk with me anymore. The more he said these things, the more and more uncomfortable I felt. But his friend was still talking to my roommate, and I couldn’t tell if she was interested, so I tried to hold out a bit longer. The straw that broke the camel’s back was when I told him I was going to run to the restroom, and he was instantly furious.

“So are you actually going to come back, should I even bother waiting for you?”

Dude…I have to pee.

I told him he was freaking me out. I told him I feared he was getting angry at every instance that signaled I may not go home with him tonight. He assured me that he had no expectations. I carried on listening to him peacock-ing, until I couldn’t take it any longer. I grabbed my roomie and we ran to the bathroom. After the bathroom we escaped to a different bar on the strip.

Later in the evening, while we were waiting for an Uber home, we heard a man call out to us. It was him.

“That is the girl who wouldn’t sleep with me! You win some, you lose some, am I right?”

He cackled at me from across the street. It was terrifying.

A lot of these sort of situations have one or both of two parties at fault, just in my opinion. I will explain them in no particular order.

I think women are taught not to say no to men. I think women are taught that we should be grateful for any and all sexual/romantic attention, because our entire self worth should be based on this almost exclusively. What men think of us equals our value.

For the majority of my life, even from my earliest years interacting with boys in my pre-teens, I avoided directly rejecting men at all cost. There are an array of excuses that I’ve developed, and that I’ve witnessed other women use as well.

“I’m not into men.” Yes, I mentioned the “lesbian excuse” earlier. Maybe our use of this excuse has enabled the prescription that men give to women who actually just say “no”.

“I have to go to the bathroom.” Again, another excuse that I was accused of making earlier in my post, even though in that instance it wasn’t just an excuse.

“I have a boyfriend.”

“Tonight is a girls-only night.”

We need to start teaching girls that it is okay to say “no”. We need to empower women to be direct. There is a polite way to turn away a man’s attention, and it doesn’t have to be a watered down excuse. We need women to know that their safety and consent are more important than a man’s fragile ego.

But we also need to teach men that “no” means “no”.

I, and many other women, HAVE said no. We shouldn’t have to say anything else.

This is rape culture.

I would be curious to know, if I really have readers who make it all the way through my lengthy posts, why you think this phenomenon occurs? Do you have any similar horror stories? Do you have any examples of male advocates who HAVE made you feel safe?

I think it is up to all of us, of all genders on the spectrum, to ensure that we no longer enable rape culture to exist. We need to call out the perpetrators, and we need to empower others to do so as well.



“You like my body.”

Being a big girl plays a huge role in my sexuality. I don’t think people realize how much being fat changes a person’s sexual/romantic experience.

I am 5’8″ and I wear a size 18. I have felt like a big girl all my life, even though for the majority of it I was not. In high school I wore a size 12 while my pre-pubescent friends were all wearing a size 0. I look back at pictures of myself and think, “how could I have ever thought I was fat?”

My senior year of high school I gained a lot of weight and got up to maybe a size 16. When I realized how much weight I had gained I started dieting and was able to lose 30 pounds in three months.

Once I went to college I started gaining the weight back, slowly. My sophomore year of college my boyfriend of the time took me shopping as a Christmas present. He bought me a couple dresses. On the car ride home he confessed to me that he wanted me to start losing weight. I was a size 14 at the time. I thought I had a wonderful day, feeling beautiful trying on dresses on this boyfriend-funded shopping spree. Then he crushed me.

By senior year of college I was up to a size 18. Since then I have lost and re-gained weight intermittently, but I have never really gotten back to my ideal size.

Now here I am, single, in the city, trying to date, trying to stay as healthy as possible, trying so hard to build my life here. I have a friend who is also single and new to the city, and I watch her go on dates with guys she meets online. She complains to me about how hard it is to date here. She has no idea how much harder it is for ME.

There are a lot of judgements that others make about fat people. There are a lot of assumptions. There are a lot of microaggressions directed towards fat people. If you don’t know what a microaggression is you should probably look it up.

One of the worst things that has always bothered me is the way that people so blatantly disclude you from normal dating activities. It seems to me that no other physical characteristic omits you from the dating scene as much as being fat does.

In college I was in a sorority, so there were a lot of formal/semi-formal events to go to, a lot of date parties, etc. It was very very common that single people would get set up for these events. I almost never was.

None of my friends ever set me up with a date because they assumed that their male friends would not be attracted to me because I was fat. And I get it. Young, gym-going, frat-stars on the majority probably would not be attracted to me. But did my friends never stop to think even one time that I noticed that I was always excluded?

I also get a lot of back handed compliments. “Wow, that is so flattering on you.” Could it maybe just look nice on me? Or is my fat body so horrendous that the best it gets is when a piece of clothing is simply able to HIDE (aka flatter) my body?

My other favorite move is when men like let me know that it is okay that I’m big and they still like me anyways. Some of them even fetish-ize it in a way. They tell me they don’t like thin women. 1) Why do you assume that I feel uncomfortable with my size and that they have to let me know like “not to worry” about it because they are still into me “anyways”??? You like my body. You don’t have to explain why you like it as if it is such a weird and rare thing that someone could be attracted to my body. 2) You don’t like thin women? Really? If I put a Megan Fox or some other super hot thin girl in front of you, you’re telling me you wouldn’t be attracted to her? Also sizing me up to other women is not the way to compliment me? Also why do you have to put down other women to make me feel good?

Being fat makes online dating much more difficult.

I post up to date pictures on my dating profiles but I don’t tend to keep photos around that I look big in. I don’t mean to deceive people with the photos I choose to put online, but what am I supposed to do, put on my most fat revealing outfit and do a photo shoot?

There is always the fear that men won’t be attracted to you once they meet you in person. That fear is there for anyone. But can you imagine how much that fear is escalated when you are a big girl?

In my dating profiles I specify that I am plus sized. My tag line is “Open minded, intelligent, sexual, liberal, plus sized, dog person, 420. If you’re not cool with any of these things please don’t waste my time.” How more honest and straightforward could I possibly be here?

One time a really fit looking man was messaging me and I told him there was no way his profile was real because a man who was so into working out would never be interested in me. He responds “oh my god, you are not big!” Okay…stop. I didn’t ask you to tell me I am not fat. I was not fishing for compliments.

Chubby people still have sexualities. We don’t have to hide our bodies to be considered sexy. Our bodies don’t need to be excused for a person to be attracted to us. Fat people are not the only ones who are attracted to fat people.

I may come back to update this post but that is all for now folks.


Anonymous Bitch

The Submissive

“We move to the bedroom. It starts to get violent.”

Oops, I did it again.

I fucked another guy’s butthole. But let’s backtrack first…

I had been talking to this guy Craig on a dating app for a bit. We exchanged numbers and continued to talk. Eventually he gave me the heads up that he was a submissive. I told him maybe we wouldn’t be the best match because I typically like to be submissive (see Daddy). He said he switches. I was sold.

I eventually decided to give up on him. He seemed confused about what he wanted. He talked about sex a lot which usually means the guy really only wants to hook up. I don’t need to use a dating app to find hook ups…I can get laid by meeting someone out in person and it is way less awkward than meeting up with someone you meet online. If we are going to go back and forth texting and go out on some date I don’t want it to be just because you had to put on a show to get in my pants.

Then a month or so later he started texting me again. He told me sometimes he gets scared about trying to date since he has been in bad relationships…what bologna. He told me he didn’t want us to stop talking because we got along so well. I agreed, we did get along pretty damn well.

Fast forward to this past Saturday night. I was out at a bar that turned out to be just a few blocks from his place. I got a text from him that he came by and it was too crowded so he left. Shortly thereafter my friend and I left to go to a different bar. On my walk over I called him to scold him.

“We’ve been talking all this time and you were in the same building as me and you didn’t tell me before you left? What the fuck do you think you’re doing? You think about what you did wrong and I’ll deal with you later.”

He agreed to meet me at a different, less crowded bar. He was already there when I got there. I could see him, tall and alone ordering a beer at the bar. He turned around and I waved at him. I was so nervous.

He came over and I sat on a bar stool next to him to chat. He bought me a Stella. I don’t even remember what we talked about. All I remember is him looming over me. He is 6’3″ and I was sitting so he looked like a big lumberjack skyscraper. He leaned down to kiss me. It was officially on.

Shortly thereafter we walked hand in hand to his apartment. When we got there I was impressed. It wasn’t a big apartment but it was very nice, and definitely expensive. There was exposed brick in several places, which I love, but I could tell it was purposely there for aesthetic effect, not because the building was old and brick like most places.

He had cool art on the walls. He had a large TV system mounted up across from a sectional couch. He had a fancy bathroom with a waterfall shower head. He had a guitar and a ukelele mounted on the walls as well. You know someone is fancy when shit is mounted.

We smoked a bowl and he took the guitar down to play to me. He tells me he can sing. I thought he was kidding. He begins to sing John Mayer and he is actually very decent. I drunkenly try to harmonize with him. We were wasted so it was okay. He then played Jason Mraz for me on his ukelele. Wow.

He sits down on the couch and we start making out. I straddle his lap and he lifts up my shirt. I’m not wearing a bra but I totally forgot that I had bandaids on my nipples. He doesn’t realize it and tries to start sucking on them and I had to stop him. He was really confused so I stopped explaining and just ripped the bandaids off as quick as I could. Ouch.

We move to the bedroom. It starts to get violent.

I don’t know where this comes from, maybe it is some sort of pent up anger inside me, but when I drink I can get very dominant, even though its not my sexual preference. One time in college I hooked up with some frat boy when I was wasted and I slapped him across the face just because I knew I could. I knew I could literally physically harm this human and he would still want me. Power feels good.

He was too soft to have sex from all the drinking but we were still fooling around. He had a massive pink wand vibrator (like in the pornos) that he used on me until I came. Following that we were kissing and I was playing with his basically limp dick.

I kept slapping him across the face. I also choked him while grinding my hips on his crotch. I hope I wasn’t TOO violent.

Then he took out a dildo. It was a rubbery nude colored, dick-shaped, dildo. I sucked on it and he joined me. We kissed with the dildo in the middle. It was maybe one of the weirder things I’ve ever done but it happened very naturally.

He tells me he wants me to put it in his ass. Okay, if that what you want I guess.

I don’t really know how to penetrate someone. Like I have not done that shit enough times to know how to properly handle that kind of equipment. I kind of just jammed it in there.

It was fuzzy from there, another drunken sexcapade. I woke up the next morning in his bed. He was asleep on the couch, I figure I kicked him out or snored or something.

I was VERY hungover. I puked in his toilet while he was asleep. I put my clothes on and peaced out.

Funny enough I really want to see him again. Our night time activities were scandalous but we do have really good conversation when we talk during the day. We’re both in sales, he’s tall and chubby, like me, he dresses well, he can fuckin’ sing I mean come on….

I texted him today and said “Idk about you but I was violently hungover all day yesterday. You’re fun. If you ever wanted to try that again maybe less intoxicated I’d be down.” I figured he wouldn’t respond but he did immediately. “Yeah, I slept all day.”

Okay like…are you into it or no? I wanna say no because he didn’t address what I said about seeing him again, but he also responded immediately when he didn’t have to respond literally at all. But then again maybe he just felt bad and didn’t want to ignore me?

Normally I try to be as honest as possible. I’ll probably ask him to do something and if he says no I’ll let it be. I always say to be honest right off the bat because if you’re not you’ll just waste your own time and energy.

You’ll be afraid to ask the person on a date for fear they will say no, but if they are going to say no wouldn’t you just rather find that out  immediately as opposed to having forced conversation over text until it fizzles out?

Keep it real people.


Anonymous Bitch



“Mike inspired my sexual career as I know it to this day.”

This post is about someone that I love very much. His soul is one that was destined for mine, yet is trapped in a body that makes it impossible for us to be together.

Mike was a Tinder match that never should have gone anywhere.

He was/is significantly older than me. 17 years older to be exact. We talked on Tinder and exchanged numbers. He would text me sweet nothings about how beautiful I was. One time he told me I was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. No man had ever called me a woman before.

I didn’t take him seriously at first. I’m not sure when that changed. I do remember that one night, after drinking, we briefly talked on the phone. It was the first time that I acknowledged the reality of his existence. He was no longer just a text message. I remember that after we hung up I called him right back and told him that I wanted to hear his voice one more time. We went on one date when he was nearby, but after that I wouldn’t see him again in person until a year later.

From there we spoke all the time. We spoke over the phone almost every day. He listened to me. He would listen to me about school and about my friends and about my family. I could get drunk and cry to him about how I hated myself and he didn’t care.

I learned about his life. I learned that he had his own contracting business, he was a boxer, he had lots of Native American style tattoos, he was a functional alcoholic who’s father died of alcoholism, he had a brother named Bryan, he owned multiple properties, he drove a big black truck, one time he got a DWI for falling asleep drunk in his old white truck, he used to smoke pot and do lots of drugs in his youth, he didn’t go to college, he was from Massachusetts, he wore a lot of graphic t-shirts, his family had a home in Newport where he would go binge drink every other weekend during the summers, he wore a Fit Bit, he had a female best friend named Liz….

More importantly I learned that he had been in a slew of long term relationships, none of which turned out to be successful. He wanted a family and kids, but it never happened. One time he had a dog but his ex took the dog when they broke up. One of his relationships was an open relationship, and they as a couple had a girlfriend that would sleepover sometimes.

Mike was very sexually adventurous. He was bicurious. One time he slept with a MtF transgender woman who still had male genitalia. Sometimes he would flirt with guys on dating apps, but he never slept with a masculine man. Or at least, he never admitted that to me.

Mike inspired my sexual career as I know it to this day. He and I became sexual pen pals. His biggest fantasy was to be with me and another man at the same time. He was a cuckhold guy.

One time, and I don’t remember who started it, the Daddy/(step)daughter thing came into play. Maybe I have daddy issues, I don’t know, but it stuck. We would role play all sorts of scenarios as these characters. We still role play this way to this day.

The summer between my junior and senior years of college, Mike got drunk on the fourth of July and texted me that he was in love with me. I asked him if he meant it. I didn’t believe that someone who didn’t make the time to see me for almost a year at this point could possibly be in love with me. Even scarier, I think I immediately knew that I felt the same way.

I kind of brushed that first occasion off, but then it happened again, and again. I confronted him and told him he couldn’t say that to me anymore because it wasn’t fair.

One night I was out with some friends. Somehow we ended up at a strip club down the road from campus. I was the designated driver. Of all the nights that I had offered to drive to Mike’s house, which was only about an hour away, this time he finally said yes.

I dropped my friends off at their respective apartments, and then drove straight to his place. I didn’t even go home to get my wallet. I had to blow through an EZ Pass lane because I didn’t have any cash on me at all. He promised to give me cash to pay the ticket, and he did.

I was so nervous. I drove into his driveway and saw him standing up on the deck in the back. I couldn’t believe I was finally this close to him. I got out of my car, walked up the stairs, and fell directly into his arms.

We walked into his house and wasted no time. He pushed me up against a wall and we started kissing. We made our way upstairs, and he gave me the unofficial tour. We went into a bedroom and he sat down on a couch. I climbed onto his lap and took it from there.

We had sex and then cuddled all night long. When I woke up in the morning he took me to breakfast in his truck. I drove away that morning hopeful that things would be different now.

We went on one more date after that. He took me to an italian restaurant. Little did I know that it was going to be the last time I would see him, probably forever.

I am still in love with Mike and we still talk every day. While I was with my most recent ex I told Mike we could only be friends. That lasted until the last couple months of my relationship, at which point I broke down and could no longer deny that I still was in love with him.

We still sext all the time. It is the perfect set up because he loves the idea of me being with other men. When I sleep with someone else I get to tell him every last intimate detail, and he loves it.

We joke that we are going to get married. We joke that we are going to have babies. I wish any of that were true.

He told me we can never be together because of our age difference. He says he can never give me what I deserve. I feel like a dumb girl for believing that he actually loves me, but I do believe him.

We live even farther apart now that I graduated from school and moved away. The chances of us being together get slimmer and slimmer. I accept that.

I dream that one day I will finally be enough of an adult for him. He still tells me that he loves me and I reciprocate. I wonder how much we love each other, and how much we just love the fantasy that we have created.


Anonymous Bitch