Illustration: Jim Cooke / GMG

So, what’s your problem? You don’t have any? OK, what’s your lover’s problem? Oh, crap, they just dumped you. Bummer. Uhh, how about your mom? What’s your mom’s problem? She’s dead!? I’m so sorry. Any problems with your boss? You’re unemployed. Hm.

You know what? Let’s start over. What the FUCK is your problem? Write to me and I’ll help you figure it out! I’m starting up a new, regular advice column here at Jezebel that we’ll call DEAR JANE. I’ll take your questions, from the petty to the metaphysical, and dispense guidance and feedback to help you navigate your toughest questions. All you have to do is write in to dearjane@jezebel.com with your questions and I’ll take it from there. Please change names and identifying info; this advice column unfortunately is not aimed at destroying lives. And if you sign your letter with a funny ID, we may or may not use it depending on how funny it is.

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A little about why you can trust my advice: I’m a twice-divorced high school dropout and single mother who has a brand new vagina, clinical depression, and about ten different jobs, one of which is hosting Tinder’s official podcast, DTR. Oh! And you may remember me from that time I created the best beauty blog there ever was—so good the universe couldn’t handle it so it had to dieMillihelen. I’m also a “batshit empath” according to a good friend, a Highly Sensitive Person according to my therapist, and a busybody. So your problems are literally my problems, and together we can solve them. Let’s do this!