When I was 15, I got my first boyfriend. We fell in love, had sex for about three months, and then broke up.

I was devastated. Like many young women, I had internalized the idea that a “good girl” only ever sleeps with one guy. In a society where sex before marriage is no longer taboo, sex in a relationship that doesn’t last forever is still frowned upon.

Perhaps the breakup wouldn’t have been as hard to bear if I had been able to better differentiate between sex and love. It took me many years — and many partners — to learn that sex doesn’t have to equal love in order to be good.

Unfortunately, I did learn that sex needs to be free of emotional baggage in order to be good. On the rebound from my first relationship, I f#cked my way through my grief. Nothing ever satisfied, and each breakup left me feeling even emptier.

I eventually screwed myself, figuratively at least. I got into an emotionally abusive relationship that ended with some tough lessons a year and a half later. Basically, after 18 months of possessiveness and jealous accusations, I slapped my boyfriend, and he promptly turned me in for domestic violence. A moment’s bad decision cost me $650 in fines and restitution, and nine months of therapy. Read More »

So, I have this friend (and no–this friend is not a hypothetical version of myself, thank god). The other night, we found ourselves in the midst of some major girl-talk. The topics ranged from our first experience with tampons, to how we feel about guys finishing on various different body parts, and then on to one of my personal faves, self love. It was at this moment when she nonchalantly dropped,

“I’m not really into masturbating,”

“WHAT?!?!?!!?!”

No. No, no, no this cannot be right. After all, I only surround myself with liberated, self-respecting gals of the feminist persuasion, all of which are highly aware of how important it is to know how to GET YOURSELF OFF. How could my friend not be into masturbating? Are there really girls that don’t attempt this anymore?

The truth became more relevant when I pulled out the big guns and asked the million-dollar question (and slightly reveled in the fact that I felt like a living chic-flick cliché)

“Have you ever had an orgasm?!”

Her answer consisted of a lot of mutters and stutters ultimately culminating with, “well, how do you even know if you’re done anyway?!”

Oh sh*t. Girlfriend was in need of some serious advice. Read More »

Some girls lose their virginities to their first loves: some taller, older, handsome man (er, boy) who says I love you and kisses her neck and asks, “Baby, does this hurt?”

Other girls get drunk in basements off Jack Daniels when they’re 14, take off their shirts and find themselves straddling some younger boy on a bed in the corner of some dirty room, only to discover they are being watched by several on-lookers when they receive a swift slap on the ass.

…Or something to that effect.

Perhaps my first sexual experience has tainted my view of sexuality. I mean, how could it not? I guess some girls really do get the whole rose-petals-on-the-bed thing, but not every girl, and I’m here to tell the story of the ones who don’t. Read More »

Who I was in the third grade does not define who I am today, and who I slept with two weeks ago doesn’t either.

If I wear 4-inch pumps and a cheetah-print dress on Monday, I’ll be viewed just a little differently by men–and women!–than when I wear sneakers and a Hanson hoodie on Tuesday. Even worse: I’ll actually be treated differently, too. But I’m going to change my outfits daily, because my moods will change daily, and that decision to choose what I wear when I wear it is a no-brainer. So if I go home with a guy after meeting him in a bar and have wild, upside-down, “we should totally record this!” sex one night, and then meet another dude the following night but prefer just to spoon and watch “Arrested Development,” why am I deemed a slut for having sex and then a prude for not putting out? And why do I even care so much about these labels?? They’re inaccurate and not definitive of who I am at all. Read More »

Hello down there!

You and me, we’ve had a pretty good run so far. I don’t think I thank you often enough, but you’ve been very good to me over the years. You’ve muscled through innumerable yeast infections. You’ve fought off bouts of HPV — twice — and came up clean both times. You tolerated a biopsy for cervical cancer without anesthesia when I was too young and dumb to realize I ought to go to a specialist for something like that.

I know that sometimes — okay, way too many times — I wasn’t nearly as good to you. I’ve introduced you to more partners than you probably would have cared to meet on your own. And some of them were really, really bad. But you put up with it anyway. Read More »

I know a lot of people who are terrified of sex. I can’t entirely blame them, really. For something that’s one of the most intimate and natural things you could ever do, it’s instinctively just scary for a lot of people. You don’t know what’s going to happen, how it’s going to happen, where it’s going to happen…all of those important things tend to just kind of linger in the air.

But after your first time, you’re usually set in your beliefs: it’s either the best thing ever, okay, or entirely underrated. For me, well, I have no problem with it. It’s fun. It feels good. It can get you into loads of trouble, of course, but all-in-all, I’ve got no real valid complaints. And I suppose that’s a strange conclusion to come to, considering the first time I had sex, I didn’t want to. Read More »

I don’t remember losing my virginity. This isn’t a tragic story, I just got drunk and lost it somewhere, to some guy (thankfully I had the presence of mind to tell him to wear a condom.) I don’t mourn my lost hymen or cry about how I wish my first time had been more special, or at least more memorable. Or memorable at all. I honestly don’t even think about it that much.

I know that this mindset is unusual, but I don’t think it should be, necessarily. It just means that historically, sex hasn’t been an especially huge deal for me. Sure, I enjoy it as much as the next girl, maybe even more so, but I just don’t want to give it that much power in my life. I much prefer to worry about things like love or general affection in my relationship with men.

I’m a one man woman now, but before I got in to this long term relationship, I had cracked double digits. Most were one night stands with guys who were generally decent and thoughtful in the sack but I didn’t expect much from them outside the bedroom and the feeling was mutual. I don’t know if this means that I’m a modern woman in my opinions about sex, but I prefer that classification more than “whore“, or “slut“ (“Harlot” and “Hussy” I’m okay with, because they are fun to say and don’t have quite the venom that the first two words do). Read More »

I lost my virginity at a 4-hour hooker motel in Bushwick, Brooklyn during a rainstorm at 3am. It was actually meant as a casual escape from a breakdancing party where I did not feel I fit in. Before I knew what I was doing, I was leaning close to the bright-red ear of my then-boyfriend and whispering that I thought tonight was the night. He grabbed my hand and we left without saying goodbye. And the rest is history.

But I digress. From what, I’m not sure.

I guess what I’m trying to say is, yeah, it’s a wild story and it was, actually, a very wild night, but we were safe (well, as safe as you can be in Bushwick). We used condoms. And to me, that’s all that matters.

I feel like the current trend is to act overtly sexual and then be really, really embarrassed about the actual act. It’s okay for 10-year-olds to wear lip gloss and bikinis, but it’s not okay to talk about sex itself. Read More »

Before I lost my virginity, I judged people for their sexual exploits. I made snide comments about the girls who went out in search of a one night stand. I frowned upon my friends who slept with friends, “just because.” I talked badly about those who had sex with their boyfriends after only a week.

I knew most of that stemmed from my self-esteem issues and lack of sexual opportunity, but I didn’t care. Sex was serious, important and emotional; people should be waiting for that special someone to share it with, instead of just throwing it away on some random dude.

Then I met that special someone, developed that deep and emotional connection, and had sex. And as soon as it was over I thought to myself, “That’s it?” It’s not that it wasn’t good, it is just that the actual act of sex was so…technical. The heat, passion and feeling I was looking for was there, but it wasn’t any different than when we were just holding hands, kissing or spooning while watching a movie. I didn’t feel any different about him after the sex than I did before.

But I did feel differently about sex. Read More »

Through the years, I’ve slept with a lot more people in my mind than I’ve slept with in the physical sense. Actually, the latter number would be zero, but that’s not the point. The point is…in my mind, I’ve been with some of Hollywood’s finest. And yeah, I’ve had my memorable moments, but let’s face it: if Indiana Jones forgets your name and is out of town 90% of the time, can you honestly say he’s boyfriend material?

Here’s the lowdown on all the hotties I’ve mentally massaged:

Indiana Jones: Indy makes his love much like you might describe him: rough and dirty. Holy cow, he sure is good in bed, but it’s a little weird that he never takes that fedora off. He also doesn’t seem to care much about protection (I think he fed me a line like, “Where do you think I’m going to get a condom? CVS?”), and he never calls in the morning… probably because he seems to think my name is “Veronica.”

Nick Carter: The baby face of the Backstreet Boys is pretty inexperienced, and it shows. When you’re sleeping with Nick, you smile because he’s just so darn cute, but there’s also a part of you that wants to hightail it out of there as soon as possible. Yeah, it always seems like a good idea at first, but most often I find myself snaking through the piles of video games to get out of his room at 5 in the morning. Read More »