In this age of Internet dating and catfishing, stories like mine are probably more common than one would think.
I kept wondering, Do we really have to allocate funds to purchase a strap-on instead of an airline ticket for you to meet my family?
I wondered if trashing my appearance was just his way of covering up his discomfort with the fact that I use a wheelchair, but he was certainly persistent in describing the things he considered to be flaws beyond my disability.
I was a teacher who was encouraged to ignore violence, disability, mental illness, neglect. I wouldn't.
I posted an ad on Craigslist, offering up my services to a bride-to-be as a professional bridesmaid -– hoping to use some of my skills and bridesmaid knowledge to help other brides.
I was scared and alone. After he put the needle in, I started crying.
If, as my college president stated in his letter, we have no tolerance for sexual misconduct, why did nothing happen to the perpetrators?
I needed the money, but I needed to feel powerful more.
The decision to apply for the visa to move to live with my partner in Sweden was not an extremely difficult one to make.
I had many clients who were wealthy executives, married with children –- supposedly upstanding citizens -- but who led double lives as drug-hungry perverts.
I was ready to just cry about it for a few hours and move on, but my family saw the discrimination my naive, young mind couldn’t yet detect.
My coordinator would send me packages full of test tubes, I would have a nurse fill them with my blood, and then I would FedEx them to various places in the country. It was like a morbid and boring hobby.
You feel responsible for the kid you see in front of you, the kid clearly suffering from a lifetime of abuse and neglect, this kid whose life might have maybe been different, if only. You play “if only” a lot.