Anonymous

Anonymous

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My Chronic Illness Left Me Broke And Homeless, So Meditation Is My Medication

It’s real sticky-wicked to have your body become unpredictable and tortuously painful. So here I am. Homeless. Meditation is my medication.

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Confession: I Got Busted By A Park Ranger For Camping Naked

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

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Confession: I'm A Straight Woman Who Gets Off On Lesbian Porn

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

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Confession: I Defied The Cuban Embargo

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.

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Being A Rape Survivor On Public Transit

What do you do when you have no choice on how you get to work?

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Wouldn’t it be nice to smoke just a tiny bit of it?

Mom Fail: My Kid Caught Me Getting High

I lit-up, inhaled, and slowly released the sweet smoke. It was beautiful and relaxing until I was interrupted with these, dreaded, words: “MOM?! Are you smoking?”

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This support my gender-fluid child receives at school means so much to my family, but the ripple effects of what the children will learn will go far.

How A Teacher Is Helping Kids Accept My Gender-Fluid Child ​

This support my gender-fluid child receives at school means so much to my family, but the ripple effects of what the children will learn will go far.

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 Behind the scenes of an Adventure Studios shoot, the cameraman helps a starlet into her negligee.

Confession: I Was An Accidental "Fluffer" On A Porn Set

How is it possible to be an accidental fluffer on a porn set? The first time I realized I was a fluffer by default was during a gig at Adventure Studios.

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I Didn't Understand Consent Until My Boyfriend Repeatedly Raped Me

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.

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What My Son's Stay In A Psychiatric Hospital Taught Me About Resilience

When I left the hospital the night that he was admitted, I sat in the parking lot gasping with big ugly sobs and looking for someone to blame — beginning with myself. I'm his mother, and I'm the only consistent parent he's ever had. As I finally made my way home, with tears streaming down my face and my mouth open in a silent scream of pain, all I could ask myself was "what have I done?" How could I have allowed my son to be hurt so deeply, and in so many ways?

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