In the few months following my breakup from Mr. Ex-Jessica, if and how to couple up again has hovered in the periphery of my mind. It’s clear to me that I’m still very sore about the breakup and earning my trust will be a slow, perhaps even
Sisyphysian Sisyphean, task for a man. But still I want occasional companionship: although there’s plenty of things to enjoy about being newly single, like lots of time to read books and hang out with my girl friends, it’s also nice to have drinks and flirt with a dude sometimes. I am OK at this point with that companionship being totally casual. In fact, I think it has to be casual. I’m not ready to be in a committed relationship or to be anyone’s girlfriend so soon.
I thought I’d found someone online to casually date: he’s smart, he’s funny, he took care of me, and he understood how sore I still am from the breakup. He’s an all-around wonderful guy who would make a great boyfriend to someone. It warmed the cockles of my black, bitter heart to know that there are good single men out there. But after about six weeks or so of going on dates once or twice a week, it became clear to me that our personalities are just too different. We clashed so many times that the romantic butterflies flew away, so to speak. I wrestled with the idea of continuing to date him because, after all, it was just casual. But putting myself in his shoes, I asked if I’d want someone to keep going on dates with me even if they weren’t feeling anything anymore. I decided “no” and that I would end things with him.
But the way I finally broke up with him was just … not … good. Keep reading »
I have teen pregnancy on my mind today. In case you haven’t heard, today is the National Day to End Teen Pregnancy, and 16 years ago, I was a pregnant teen. I always knew motherhood would be an important part of my life, and when I was 18 and found out I was pregnant, there was a voice inside of me that said, calmly and clearly, Now is the time. Keep reading »
I lost my virginity at age 15, in a double wide trailer. I remember his abs glowing under the black-light and the mood music–a Ginuwine album on repeat. I had snuck out on a snowy school night, holding my shoes in my hand. I felt sort of frozen and surreal, somehow knowing this was the night, and barely noticing the fact that I was just wearing wet socks in his car.
There isn’t much to describing first time sex. I felt more like I was watching myself from above than experiencing it, thinking Oh my god, this is sex! or Just move your hips with Ginuwine. Afterward, naked and side by side, I stared into his eyes, my heart feeling huge. My virginity had become a burden that past year and this was, surely, a turning point in my life. He suddenly locked eyes with mine and opened his mouth. I wanted to remember every second of this moment.
“Want a Capri Sun?” he asked. Keep reading »