Recently I went home with a kinky man after our first date. The experience phased in and out of being consensual throughout the night. I distinctly left his apartment feeling violated and I continued to feel violated for several days after.
She came out with this bag full of groceries, and told me that the food and milk was for the girls and me to eat over the next three days. I don’t remember a time in my life when I ever felt more grateful.
There had been a couple of things about him that had always seemed “off.” But nothing could have made me suspect that he spent his spare time raping women and helping himself to the contents of their purses.
The same people who suddenly care a whole lot about disability when it involves a reality television show are nowhere to be seen the rest of the time, and I can’t help but be just a teensy bit bitter about that.