Our sons need to be told that words and actions that objectify, demean, and damage women are not what being a boy or man is about.
Waiting to pay for my groceries at the market this evening, this guy, stinking of booze, says to my nine-year-old daughter, “Sweetheart, can you put the divider thing there for me?”
Who cares about age?
My husband and I often go for long rides on the weekend. Unfortunately, this makes various parts of my crotch sore.
My girlfriend endlessly told me she has thoughts about missing out on the things she didn’t get to do in her teens.
I have started taking an antidepressant, which has allowed me to regain control over my life, but one side effect is difficulty having orgasms.
I’m a woman who watches porn—we do exist—and I have a mad crush on a male porn star named Small Hands.
If I find someone who will pay me to suckle my milk, is that prostitution?
I shudder to think how shitty my life would have been without them.
To be blunt, I don’t want to date him anymore. But I feel too guilty to break up with him.