Anonymous

Being a human is hard. Being a human with an eating disorder is inexplicably hard. Every time I think I have control over the situation, my eating disorder pulls a fast one on me and reminds me what is really in charge — food and exercise.

Anorexia is not what you think. Warning: Triggering pictures included.

A fresh perspective from a straight, cisgender man on what it's like dating a trans woman...

The sad thing is, it took someone almost destroying me to make me open my eyes to the extent of what happens when we talk not about a culture of consent, but about temptation and defense instead.

It was all going well . . . until the SWAT team arrived.

That’s part of the problem, I think. I keep waiting for my sexual partners to figure out how to bring me to orgasm.

I had grown to learn that fighting=love. I was dead wrong.

Like too many others out there, we have a father who gave us some of his genes and not a whole lot more. Specifically, my father is an alcoholic — has been for the entirety of his adult life.

It never felt like sexual assault, him taking the sex I didn’t offer. It felt more like a silent agreement. I surrendered to sex; he didn’t complain.

Despite our fear of getting caught, the richness of experience, the beauty of the land, and the generosity of the Cuban people made the risk more than worthwhile.