[This post is courtesy of our gal pal, Marie Claire.]

It all started 10 years ago with a drunken kiss, which quickly led to drunken sex. She was the cool, pretty receptionist at the glossy music magazine where I was interning. But after a few more heated nights together that summer, my gig ended, and so did our trysts. I initially dismissed our encounters as nothing more than clumsy, alcohol-fueled experimentation — little did I know things were going to get much more complicated.

Prior to that fateful fling, I had been straight as a ruler and extremely confident about my figure. I’d always been robust (185 pounds), and proudly so. Constant attention from men — be it coy advances or vulgar catcalls — kept me feeling like a wanted woman. I was certain that my large breasts, tiny waist, and curvaceous hips were irresistible to members of the opposite sex. These assets — in any size and shape — were just so alien and intriguing to them. Read More »