Anonymous

My dad had an explosive anger that he took out on his children. My father abused me and I love him in spite of myself. I don’t want him to die.

Sexuality is fluid. And mine has led me from girl-on-girl action to a man inside me.

I don't recall meeting my first love. It seems he was always with me.

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

I sat up abruptly and to my horror saw this woman using this tiny tube of glue to affix these sparkly diamante things to my lady parts . . .

This article first appeared on Mamamia and has been republished with perm

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

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.

I never imagined myself being anyone’s wife so I grieved for my single life when I got married. I began to secretly long for the life I’d left behind.

I wasn’t thankful. I was too negative. I wasn’t doing enough. When I found out my mood swings weren't my fault, that I had bipolar disorder, I cried.