For a femme, I am really terrible at doing my makeup.
For real. I didn’t know the first thing, had practically never worn a stitch of makeup — let alone put it on myself — until a few years ago.
And even since then, I’ve been fuzzy on the particulars. » Read more
In 1964 a woman named Kitty Genovese was murdered in New York City, not far from where she lived at the time. In spite of the fact that there were ostensibly many neighbors in the vicinity who witnessed the attack, it was initially reported that no one came to her aid as she was stabbed to death. » Read more
I do so hate a fauxpology (i.e., fake apology). You know exactly what I’m talking about. When someone’s saying the words, “I”m sorry,” but you can tell they don’t really mean it. Either by tone of voice or stilted word use.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” with an eye roll.
Or something equally unimpressive like, » Read more
“The trouble with relationships these days is that they’re so transactional,” my friend says.
It’s a complaint I’ve been hearing a lot lately. And while I have a vague sense of what it means when you say a relationship is transactional, I’m fuzzy on the finer details. I explain this to my friend and add, » Read more
friendamour (noun) – a close friend of a partner that’s a lot like a metamour in terms of importance
“Page, you have to help me,” he says to me.
“What’s going on?”
“I’m losing my mind. I’ve never been so nervous,” he says to me.
“Honey,” » Read more
I remember the first time I slept with someone who actually cared about my pleasure. The way they moved their hands over my body, the way they monitored my face to see if I liked what they were doing. The way they actually even asked what I liked.
It felt good, » Read more
My compersion appears to be conditional. I’m not ashamed for this. I’m trying to acknowledge it and turn it around. Love shouldn’t be conditional and for me it’s not. So this has been a big pill to swallow. Have you written about this? When a partner’s partner resents your existence and you feel your compersion for them begin to die? » Read more
“It’s not the drugs,” Kurt said. “It’s the people you meet because of the drugs.”
He was a heavy user and had been for some time. Like many people, when I first met him, I’d pegged him for an addict. Assumed that his use was as simple as that, biochemical dependency. » Read more
“You know what I haven’t seen in a long while?” I said to my friend.
“Scratch and sniff stickers,” I said. “They were all the rage when I was in a kid. I lusted after them so hard.”
“They totally make those,” my friend said.
“I know,” » Read more
Compersion has a semi-exalted status in polyamorous circles. Simply stated, compersion (also known as confelicity or mudita) is delight in the happiness of others — even when that happiness has little or nothing to do with you. When you get down to it, compersion is just a very specific kind of empathy, one that runs counter to our cultural expectations. » Read more