Within a Relationship

I remember being in an abusive relationship, and fearing what my partner would do. I remember trying to be good, but I always messed up somehow.

Once, when he was sick, I had food sent to him. He got mad because I was treating him like he was an “invalid” and he claimed it was infantalizing.

I was terrified. Was I going to be hit…for sending him food?

Nothing I did was right. …

I recently saw a post about an anti-vaxxer who said he would start selling his unvaccinated sperm at a premium once most people were vaccinated.

When I was able to come up for air (thank you for the ab workout; I haven’t laughed that hard in a while), I was able to formulate this response—

First point: We want LESS sperm, not more.

What makes you think, in this Handmaid’s Tale scenario where I’m currently fighting for choice, that I want the sperm of ANYONE, much less the sperm of a dude who chose not to be vaccinated during a…

Thank you for calling me a whore.

Thank you for explaining my own job to me.

Thank you for telling me that you’re a dying breed.

Thank you for saying, “You probably don’t know this band…The Red Hot Chili Peppers?”

Thank you for using Bible quotes in your profile about purity.

Thank you for telling me that “everyone is racist” and you’re just “keeping it real.”

Thank you for telling me about my vagina, about how used it is, about my period.

Thank you for telling me that you like to fix people, that I have potential, that I can…

I keep seeing articles about people who have had children…and their regret.

Having a child by accident, doing it because of social pressure, or doing it to fill a hole in your life.

When women express regret, they’re met with attacks. What if your kids see this? What a terrible mother you must be!

And these parents are affirming and validating their feelings. That’s excellent, and as a child who was 100% a mistake (teenage pregnancy, put up for adoption, and eventually came back to my biological family), I can tell you all one thing:

Chances are, the kids already…

The bathroom is the most romantic place when everything is too crowded and there’s nowhere to be alone. The bathroom is the most romantic place when I’m lightly tipsy and someone thick and handsome is in my way. The bathroom is definitely the best place to go — graffiti and black walls, sticky floors and mirrors covered in writing.

The bathroom is a break from music and a place where we can focus. We have to be close together because there’s no room. We have to be pressed right up against each other.

There is no small talk. I don’t…

Here’s how to think — isolate, prioritize, maximize.

Rush, hustle, and analyze.

Take what makes you successful and keep doing it, again and again and again, and make yourself and your whole identity so specific that you can’t do anything else, but you’ll make money.

Of course, unless your industry fails, bottoms out, becomes irrelevant, then you have to be innovative — to pivot, to learn, to expand. I mean, really, why don’t you want to broaden your horizons? You’ve specialized to such a degree that you’re as precise as a pin in a digital world.

Here’s how to think…

Hush, little baby, don’t say a word — or say a million, compare me to a Nazi, tell me my life is over, that I am wrong, that I am a slut, that I will never be loved, that I’m old and nobody wants me anymore —

Write an essay on why I’m terrible, on why I’m what’s wrong with America, about how I killed marriage, relationships and love, and by doing so I killed industries, whole industries, and Applebee’s.

Momma’s gonna buy you — nothing, are you kidding me?

And if my gifts don’t sing a tune you like…

You should be grateful that we are monitoring you, watching you, making sure you don’t make money anywhere else. You should be grateful for non-compete agreements, even though we make agreements with our own competitors, and they get government bail outs.

You should be grateful for representation. We take your pain, put it into a play, and slap it in Broadway. We clap learning about the American struggle through theater. We will charge you hundreds of dollars to watch someone with your problems kill themselves. Then we will applaud and call it culture.

You should be grateful that we acknowledge…