Jeanne Joe Perrone

Let’s talk about sex — Sex and the City, that is. (Wink wink, groan groan.)

When I was in third grade, my parents got divorced. My mom went back to school full-time in the hopes of beginning a new career that would support us. Oddly, this was one of the richest years of my life; my world split and shifted on its axis, and yet somehow didn’t knock me over — thanks to a SHEro (or two).

Part of the problem with defining yourself in negatives (i.e. not religious) is that it’s hard to pinpoint what you actually do stand for.

I was drowning in stuff, and felt constantly tired — even though I’d made an art out of trading in my old clothes at secondhand stores, minimizing expenses, and sharing apartments with strangers. Something felt fiscally oppressive despite the fact that I’ve never owned a house, a car, or anything larger than my bed.

...for two years of my adult life, I didn’t date — at all. On purpose.