All rights © Pawel Szvmanski

Two years ago America spontaneously decided it was ok for women to be furious about what men do to our bodies without our permission. And not just bosses but coworkers. Equals. Strangers. Partners. Creeps in clubs. Creeps at church. Anyone who didn’t have our consent. The new c-word.

It was astonishing. Every unsolicited shoulder rub and ass grab, every lewd comment, every hug that lasted too long, every public transportation frottage and every assault and every rape — everything we’ve been socialized to ignore or endure — suddenly, spontaneously it all came to the surface and in one collective grotesque…

All rights @ ian dooley. Tulsa. Edits mine.

Don’t ask me why I’m even still talking to my ex, let alone arguing with him about gender politics. I don’t know what kind of catharsis I still think is possible for me, or him, through his conversion —as if our toxic conversations will medievally transform him into a decent modern man who doesn’t think that expressing emotions is “super gay”. Is there any alchemy for that?

He is a 1980s sexist who thinks he’s a good guy because he’s not an 1880s rapist. …

A little nostalgia, anyone?

All rights © Chica

Is anything as serenely sexy as Sade running barefoot down a sidewalk, slow-motion, in a midriff-baring wedding dress?

Play it back.

That deliberate tempo, the arch and ache straining in her voice, the lingering questions of their lyrics — aren’t we all that complex? Aren’t all our loves that textured? That layered?

“I’m crying everyone’s tears,” laments the sultriest torch singer of the 80s and the 2000s. “I have already paid for all my future sins.”

Long before the ubiquitous mermaid chic infected every food blog and child’s birthday cake Nigerian-English Sade Adu was sewing a wedding dress underwater and…

The blissful naivete of hook-up culture a mere few months ago

All rights © Matthieu Joannon

Five months ago I told a new man I wasn’t going to fuck him.

I had just met him. I wasn’t in love with him. He was interesting but I wasn’t actually attracted to him. He wasn’t my type but he had confidence and charisma and I had had a lot of wine. He had smooth skin and long beautiful hair, an inscrutable confidence I was mildly curious about.

“It tastes like apricot,” he said at the first winery — a white wine I don’t remember now. As soon as he said it I could taste how right he was.

A five-step gimmick-free guide that only works if you use it

What makes a great lover? What makes a lover “the best”? If anyone promises you a single answer ignore it. The answer is different for every person. So the only true “answer” is what each partner tells you. You have to ask.

If you don’t want to have a conversation about sex with the person you’re having sex with you’re probably bad in bed. And if you’re too lazy to read a whole article that’s not a great sign either.

But for the great lovers out there who are also pressed for time, here’s the abstract: ask your partner what…

And more importantly, my humanity?

All rights © Charles Deluvio

It started in Taipei. My friend and his new wife, both diplomats, finally made it to their new assignment after multiple flights, two weeks of quarantining in New York and then another two more days of flights and layovers.

The walls of their new apartment were completely carpeted, with big red and grey geometric shapes emblazoned against a felt-y matte black. Like a new mall movie theater in the 90s. Even the countertops were carpeted. To absorb the noise in the crowded complex, they were told.

Everyone who couldn’t make it to their summer wedding in Costa Rica was reuniting…

The wealth might be uncommon but the devotion doesn’t have to be

All rights © Universal Pictures

You can blame your “bad luck” with the ladies on not being rich all you want.

But women want generosity, not necessarily wealth. Sure, some want the fabled glamourous life. And that’s ok too. But there are plenty of women who just want you to want to be generous and thoughtful at whatever your income level is.

When I was in college my ex worked so I could focus on school. It was the most unbelievably selfless thing anyone had ever done for me. I was floored. He got paid minimum wage. And one pay period during the winter he…

All rights © Kristina Tripkovic

Let me just say that the loneliness is acute.

And to be clear, fuck your loneliness. Fuck mine too. It is nothing — nothing but Lenten ashes and petty indulgence compared to the last gasps of people dying alone in droves all around us, the ice-skating rinks turned into morgues because we’ve exceeded the capacity of almost every infrastructure.

Two weeks ago feels like a different world, doesn’t it? I know this. And it is not about that. …

All rights © Marc Vandecasteele

And then one night he told me about his heart transplant. He was 19.

He told me about the day he finally met the boy’s mother. Ten years later. A full decade after the surgery he felt like he was finally ready to meet her. He sent me a picture of them together.

Swan dive. In an instant life seemed like it was suddenly so acutely fleeting, careening away from us —and too bitterly fucking precious, too short for dating games. Suddenly I wanted him in my arms. I wanted to hold him and rock him while I stroked his…

Male Madagascar fody. Toliara, Madagascar All rights © Charles J Sharp

A lot of people come here to die, he tells me when I admit I’m still afraid of heights.

The sun is setting over the river as we drive under the last stretch of the four-mile-long bridge looming some 200 feet above us, blocking the sun for a brief moment with its concrete underbelly arced across the river.

This is a very popular suicide destination, he continues and turns some Bon Iver song up too loud. …

Erika Düring

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