It’s Christmas, which means Corynne actually let us have a day off so we aren’t publishing any new content today. But we didn’t want to leave you stranded at home, bored, and stuck with your family without something to read on xoJane. So we had the brilliant idea of pulling together the most salacious, shocking, moving, and compelling, “It Happened To Me” pieces from 2012.
In an editorial meeting with Jane a few weeks ago, all of us staffers realized just how invaluable IHTMs are--they are such an integral part of the fabric of our site. Not to mention they are just so good.
In 2012 we’ve published a new IHTM almost every day, and there’s a chance you may have missed some. Time to catch up! Oh, and while you’re reading (or re-reading) these, we hope you start thinking about your own IHTM story.
PS: We are publishing these throughout the day (because what else brings Christmas cheer like rape, murder, and adultery?) Happy Holidays!
SEX & RELATIONSHIPS
Nobody doesn’t want to read about sex and relationships and all the ways they can be fucked up or wonderful or both. Also, there’s a reason we call this category Sex, Sex, Sex and Love on the site.
I figure I should be up front right away and tell you: I sell sex. And I don’t mean that in a metaphorical way in that I model, strip or work for one of those phone sex lines. I don’t sell the idea of sex. I literally sell sex.
Long story short, I’m a broke college student with little family support who is juggling two degrees, an internship and a shitty research job that’s supposed to pay my $50,000+ tuition. I lost my virginity when I was 15, and I quickly discovered 2 things about my sexuality: 1) I love sex and 2) I’m really fucking good at it.
I stare down into my drink, silent. In some ways, this is the hardest part -- living in this society, listening to movies and television and music and friends who all say the same thing: All men want sex all the time. Women may want sex (slut) or not want sex (frigid), but all men want sex, always. What kind of man doesn’t like to have sex? We don’t even have a word for that.
Actually, I do have a word for that. Husband.
I was an unlikely candidate for young marriage. In fact, as a self-righteous feminist and leftist, I am vehemently opposed to it. I don’t want girls to stunt their development, risk their educations, restrict their opportunities or settle for someone before they’ve grown into themselves. And I worry about the wedding Kool-Aid they’re being served in fairy tales and gossip rags.
Though many guys I've dated do not and may never know the gender history of the girl they randomly made out with on the street, I have relayed my story to a select few.
Alex and I have been sharing an apartment for almost three years. He is my first boyfriend and the only man I've ever lived with.
It's never glamorous. He bumps into the shelves in our narrow kitchen and breaks the dishes. The box springs collapse, and our bed frames splinter. Sometimes his pants rip. We overeat ice cream. I get angry because my pants are too tight. I worry about our future, our finances, and our fitness. I worry deeply about our health. Alex tells me that he'll never leave me. I don't want to say, "There are other ways besides a breakup."