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I'm pissed. It's an anger that's been on a slow boil that's beginning to bubble over, and at this point, there's no putting a lid on it. I've been writing about sex on a pretty public platform for some time now, at first anonymously, and then under my real name. I've had to endure ignorant assumptions and cheap shots made about my looks, my weight, my vagina, my tits, my sexual health, my mental health, my morality, my character — and all for what? Being honest? For liking sex? I've poured my guts out all over my keyboard, and I'm well aware that that invites criticism, particularly on the internet, where people think they can say whatever the fuck they please — in the most offensive manner possible that they would never employ in real life — with impunity because they're protected behind a shroud of anonymity. It's frustrating. And lemme tell you, I am so sick of people telling me, "You write about sex and personal issues. You have to accept that people will sling insults." Fuck. That. Shit. I don't have to accept it. I refuse to accept it. Mostly because I know that this wouldn't happen if I were a man. More »
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