Never did it occur to wonder why it was that I was so often the sole person responsible for insisting on safe sex, why I was positioned repeatedly as the condom police, posed at the entrance to my vagina with a whistle and a handheld stop sign.
In some ways it feels like I’m still living with my parents, still having my lifestyle affected by other’s religious beliefs. But this time the effect is on an employed, educated adult and the beliefs come from my father’s employer.
The comparison I made light-heartedly to friends was that the Ring was like a horcrux in Harry Potter. It took control of me, made me different, made me darker -- and the last thing I wanted to do was remove it.