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I wanted to write this entry in the Planned Parenthood parking lot, but my laptop battery was too low. So I jotted down some notes and went to find food with which to take my Plan B pill (because apparently you will just throw it up if you take it on an empty stomach). Lovely. My life is so glamorous sometimes.

So it isn't exactly right to name this story "Plan B," as I actually took the off-brand (which I hope is just a generic)... EContraEZ. That sounds trustworthy, right? Somehow it sounds like the ineffective precursor to a back-alley abortion... but I'm sure it's fine.

While you already know how this story ends... it began with me bootycalling  (yes, I just made up a verb here) the Air Force guy (the one who is afraid of my cat).

The sex was amazing! I mean, like, really great! We fucked for at least an hour (with him doing literally all of the work).

It was so good, until it was so tragic. The problem happened at the end. He came right before I did (the second time). By the time he pulled his dick out, it had gotten half-way soft... and he pulled it out, while the condom was left behind... in my snatch. I hadn't noticed that he was going soft because I was too busy coming. 

It was an amateur mistake, and I couldn't believe I let it happen. I berated myself silently for a minute. Then I played out doomsday scenarios in my head... in which my doctor (an old white guy) was telling me I had EVERY venereal disease (of course he used "venereal disease"... because he is an old white guy). 

All I could think about was how likely it was that I would get an STI. I know that HIV is not a death sentence anymore, but I would love to avoid it forever anyway. I finally returned to reality.

To add insult to injury, I had to fish the condom out of my vag while my bootycall stared at me (seemingly unfazed). In comparison, the look on my face was definitely horror (mixed with terror and thinly-veiled anger).

"Don't worry, I'll get Plan B in the morning," I said, more to calm myself than him. 

Probably the most disturbing part of this whole disaster was his reaction to reassurance:

"Or don't. I think our kids would be awesome!"

"Don't say that word to me," I said, with all of the pleasantness I could muster under the circumstances (which wasn't much).

"Which word? 'Awesome' or 'kids?'"

"What do you think?" I asked, exasperated. 

"Well some people don't like the word 'awesome.""

I couldn't even...

"I think this is the beginning of the greatest love story," he said with a huge grin.

I wanted to hit him. Let me also remind you that I have had occasion to interact with him (sexually) 3 or 4 times... total. There is no dialog that occurs in between said occasions... and if had my way, there would be no dialog during our interactions either.

"Don't say that to me either," I added.

I am so thankful to have the power to be the ultimate decision maker in family planning matters. That was my kind way of saying that I don't give a shit about his opinion, and I will do what I think is best for me.

And I need to get back on the pill... like yesterday.
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ABOUT ME

Empowered female.

PURPOSE

My raison d’etre is to bring about social equality. For women, such as myself, that means being empowered and empowering other women. There are so many aspects of our lives in which we can practice this, but I choose to focus on our sexuality, because it is a particular passion of mine. Men have been objectifying us for thousands of years. So why are we so late to the party? I enjoy sex (a lot), and I think you should too. I respect myself (a lot), and I think you should too. I would like to show you what this looks like for me. I will not embellish nor exclude any significant details, no matter how private social norms say they should be. It is time for women to step into the light, and start living every day exactly the way we desire. We no longer have to live under the thumb of a man. Nor do we have to live in his shadow. We will only live under the weight of his scrutiny so long as we allow ourselves to. Our self-worth is in no way determined by the opinions of men (or anyone else, for that matter), but by our own opinions of ourselves. No longer will our bodies be subjected to scrutiny, without scrutiny in return. No longer will a man with a child-sized penis feel that he has any ground to stand on when making disparaging remarks about a woman’s body. Fuck him and his little penis. We are strong, and we are worthy. We don't need permission.

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