The only funny/entertaining thing to come from this movie

Have you seen the trailer for “The Vow”? If you haven’t, go watch it. But, be warned, you may vomit.

In the film, a loving couple’s lives are destroyed after a car accident gives the wife amnesia therefore the husband must make her fall back in love with him. “The Vow” has all the ingredients for the perfect, cringe-inducing romance movie: a stunning couple, their flawless relationship, and a tragic incident that tears them apart. The only thing it seems to be missing is that it isn’t based off of a book by Nicholas Sparks.

Romance movies are, to put it lightly, just not my thing (full disclosure: I do have a soft spot for “When Harry Met Sally” but really, who doesn’t?) I hate how generally unrealistic they are, how they portray people as goon-eyed love freaks, how sappy they are, and how there is such an element of drama.

I am not against the fantasy of films. I think that movies are a great escape from reality and that they all create idealistic worlds. But romance movies take that idea too far. They create an entirely new universe, one that I don’t wish to be a part of.

I do not want to be written a letter every day. I do not want somebody to show up at my door confessing their secret desire for me. I do not want to be woken up at 3am with a boombox playing a stupid song. And I most definitely do not want to kiss in the rain. I prefer to stay dry, thank you very much.

So please, Hollywood, can we make a deal and stop making these horribly cheesy, unrealistic romance movies? Let’s start showing the funnier aspects of love and life, the most reasonable things that happen that people can relate to. Let’s erase this genre of movies that seem to always require a box of tissues and chocolate. I surely will not miss them.

Pass.

“Let me buy you dinner,” he said with a smile. He looked at me with confidence. He was close to me in age, and handsome. His actions were presumably innocent. On the surface, there was no reason for me to refuse. He thought he was simply asking me on a date, but it implied a deeper meaning.

He didn’t phrase his proposal as a question, but I still had a choice. I could say yes and smile endearingly; I could take the sandwich he wanted to buy me and thank him for his generosity. But I knew that if I wanted to live with myself, the answer would be no. I could not carry on as a hypocrite. I could not relinquish my self-respect for a sandwich.

“Why?” I asked him. He was uneasy now. There was a possibility that I was going to turn down his advance. “Well,” he ventured, “I was hoping we could eat together. And you know…you’re a girl. If I’m in your company, I have to pay for you.”

He seemed so clueless. There was no reason he couldn’t just ask me to sit with him. I didn’t want to be rude, but I needed to make my point. I wanted him to see that I was as capable of caring for myself as he was. “Thank you for the offer, but I’ll pay for myself.” I turned to the cashier, “Can I get that to go please?”

The cashier’s scowl conveyed her annoyance. She didn’t see me as a person standing up for my right to equality and self-determination. She saw a stuck up, unappreciative girl. She silently handed me the sandwich and my change. I took both and made for the exit.

I am expected to adhere to a set of unwritten rules that men are not subject to. From an early age I was taught that the meaning in my life would come from the man I marry. The law says that I am allowed to work, but if I dedicate all of my energy to bettering myself instead of caring for others, I am considered unfeeling and selfish. If a man makes the same decision he is applauded. Double standards are rampant in this society. People cling to twisted traditions. I am going to take a different road. I want to use my talents to change the world. I won’t be lulled into just settling down with someone exceptional – I am going to be exceptional. And I won’t let a few admonishing glances get in my way.

Recently, I participated, in a willing, great hook-up. The week before I participated in a willing make-out session. I just moved to a new town. I don’t know anyone around here that well, and the unfortunate thing about that is that I don’t know who knows who — for instance how close hook-up A is to hook-up B. This is where my story really starts.

Let’s call the two guys I’ve hooked up with Boy A and Boy B. Boy A had a crush on me. Since I had only known him for about a week, I assumed it was casual. I was wrong. At some point during our short time together, he decided we were in a relationship. Now, we’re talking about a guy that I’ve probably seen four times in my life and who I never told I was interested in being in a relationship. This is where Boy B steps in.

I had met Boy B the week before and found him attractive. The next week I saw him at a party and we began talking about Lord of The Rings, Zombies and Star Wars. Clearly, I was interested. One thing led to another and we hooked up. The next day I texted Boy A and he responded by saying (and I quote): “I heard Boy B jack-hammered your crotch last night…yikes.”

Despite his triggering, offensive, misogynistic language, I responded. I told him that it was unfair of him to assume that there was something solid between us. I told him not to deny my sexuality and not to hold me to double standards. What he said back was this: “Stop bothering me you dumb whore.” I decided to just say nothing, to not give him the satisfaction of knowing just how much his texts had gotten to me. But I was so upset and angry. I felt disgusting, like a pile of trash, and I know that’s what he wanted me to feel like.

I have my theories why I felt this way. It has been a little over a year since I was pinned down and raped in my own bed. The “Jack-hammered your crotch” comment just sounded so violent, so rapey, that every time I think about it I am disgusted. My stomach literally clenches and I feel sick. The term whore made me feel low, like maybe I’m wrong for liking sex as much as men, maybe I am worthless, maybe I should be used for sex, maybe that’s all I’m good for. For the first time, I understood how much it hurts to be called a whore or a slut or a skank – whatever the term may be – or to have you sexuality questioned. Even after attending Slut Walks, being an active feminist, knowing about rape culture and understanding the effects of slut-shaming, I lost myself in the idea that maybe being a slut was a bad thing, that maybe I had been wrong all along. My entire belief structure had come into question because of one jerk.

Then I remembered the day I lost my virginity. The day I had sex for the first time, it was not to a guy who was my boyfriend. Some of you may call that slutty, but I knew that I wanted to have sex. At that moment, there was nothing more that I wanted, and when it happened, I regretted nothing. But I also remember thinking that no one would understand, that if I told, I’d be called a whore and a liar. And there was that word again: whore. The word that people use to control our sexuality, to dismiss us from sexual pleasure, to dismiss our claims of sexual assault, to dismiss our humanity.

We live in a country where tens of thousands of sexual assault cases are reported every year. And who really knows how many go unreported. I think this all goes back to the word “whore,” to the idea that women do not have sex for ourselves but for male attention, because we have low self esteem, because we have daddy issues, because we want to be popular, or because we’re just plain crazy.

It starts in our first health class. We learn that boys masturbate more than girls (or is it just that boys talk about it more because it is considered more socially acceptable for them to pleasure themselves?) In our high school health classes, we are told that the only way to be safe is to remain abstinent, that if we wait until marriage, sex will be so much better. We are taught about blow jobs, but the blessing that is cunnilingus is never mentioned. We learn about male ejaculation, not about female. Every day we are shown how cool Robert Downey Jr. is for remaining a swinger throughout his career, and on the same channel told that Miley Cyrus looks like a slut in her video.

As a gender we have been dismissed. Slut is not our word. It is the word of our oppressors. It is a word they use because the idea of female sexuality does not fit their conservative view points. But I’m going to fight that now. I’m going to say:

Dear Guy A, I love sex. I choose to love sex. I choose to have sex with whomever I want. I am great in bed and I am proud of that. I look amazing naked and yeah that makes me feel really confident and sexy. Sex is my choice. So if liking sex, and liking frequent sex, and liking experimenting with new partners makes me a slut in your mind, then so be it. I am a huge slut. And there is nothing wrong with that.

As much as my generation seems to support Facebook, I believe that underneath all that tagging and friending, there’s a deep-seated resentment that we’ve had to grow up in a world where it’s the norm to share your relationship status with strangers.

I’ve blogged before about the issues I think Facebook creates for teenage girls, and I’ve heard a lot more of my peers agreeing with me about the perils and annoyances of Facebook. My Facebook blog last year received more comments than any other piece I’ve posted, and it seems that many others share my attitude about Facebook: I wish that Facebook didn’t exist, yet I still have a Facebook for several reasons.

I hope to debunk the myth that all teenagers are drinking the facebook Kool-Aid and pose the question: will my generation ultimately defect from Facebook? Believe it or not, grownups, I don’t think I’ve ever heard a kid my age say they “love Facebook,” a two word pairing adults seem to imagine us uttering all the time. Clearly, despite its popularity, Facebook still strikes a lot of people in my generation as having negative impacts.

At this point, you’re probably wondering why I keep my Facebook. In a nutshell, I have a Facebook because I’ve always been afraid that deactivating it would cause my friendships with certain people to suffer. I have a lot of friends who I don’t go to school with, including friends from other countries who I’ve met through international programs I’ve attended. I also use Facebook to communicate with classmates about schoolwork and organize logistics for clubs.

Finally, I use Facebook because no one in my generation checks their email! Teenagers reading this: WTF? Like, maybe I’m being retro and old in saying this but email is a great way to communicate—and if any of you used it, I wouldn’t have to be so dependent on Facebook!

A few weeks ago, I set out to interview my friend, and Rachel Simmons’s former teen blogger, Lilly about her recent disappearance from Facebook. That’s right…Lilly is a Facebook defector. I went into my conversation with Lilly especially curious about three topics: friends, schoolwork, and email.

Lilly told me she abandoned Facebook this September, but that she’s wanted to do it for a long time. She’d resisted because she’d always thought that after she got to college, deactivating her Facebook would make it difficult to keep in touch her high school friends, a concern I definitely identified with.

I asked her about the strain on her friendships with these people. Lilly told me that she still communicates with many of them through text messaging and email (woohoo! What what!), but that it’s certainly true that she’s lost touch with some people by deactivating her Facebook. “It’s been very indicative of who my true friends are,” Lilly told me, “My birthday was on the 31st and it was definitely interesting to see who remembered without facebook there to remind them.” Lilly said she didn’t want to be part of such vapid measurements of relationships and that quitting facebook has helped her do this.

Lilly also talked about the pressure to cultivate a perfect persona through one’s Facebook profile or as she puts it, pressure to constantly be your own PR person. “The whole language of Facebook stalking really irks me. That’s so sad that that’s what our interactions have become. They’re so diluted. No one says on their profile…‘I’m really messy and I sorta suck sometimes.’”

Lilly said she still finds out about school events, clubs, and homework assignments, although she said she is sometimes the last to find out about parties. “Sometimes it means, you know, showing up at a party and not realizing it’s a costume party until you get there,” Lilly said, laughing. But, these are small issues Lilly is more than willing to deal with.

“It was just taking up so much time. I didn’t realize until I got rid of it how instinctual checking Facebook was for me.”

When I asked Lilly if she ever thought she’d return to Facebook, she told me that, although she had been planning on going back over winter break, she really doesn’t want to. “I don’t think I’ll ever want to go back to having it,” Lilly said, “And when I tell people I don’t have a Facebook, they sort of get this look on their faces…like they get it.”

After my conversation with Lilly I felt both more tempted to ditch Facebook and more frightened to do so. Facebook is such an integral part of all of our lives, yet many of us seem to be noticing its flaws more and more. I’m still not sure if I’m big enough to take the plunge…are you?

Originally posted on Rachel Simmon’s website. Check out Fiona’s own blog, Barbara’s Angels.

the best thing to come out of this date

…But you’re actually really funny, too!” Well no shit, asshole. In addition to a sense of humor, I also possess opinions, aspirations, and a black belt, but since we only made it to gelato and Gas USA for your cigarettes, I guess I shouldn’t expect you to know that. That is the sad unfortunate reality that is dating.

While it’s cliché, it’s also completely true that for whatever reason people love to be told that they’re attractive. This is not meant to necessarily be an attack on the “oppressive bonds of beauty forced upon women by society.” I think it’s more complicated than that. Rather this is me trying to figure out exactly why a statement that praised my looks but clearly undermined everything else about me was so offensive but at the same time strangely flattering.

Let’s examine how this short courtship began. Walking out of the student center at school, I passed a well-dressed (and by that I mean real clothes, instead of the normal sweats seen on campus) guy on the phone. As I scurried pass, he taps his ear, and goes “I like it.” Both of us have industrial piercings- cute, right? It’s like we already had matching friendship bracelets, so it was no surprise when we ran into each other again the following Thursday at karaoke. We talked, or rather shouted over the “talent” long enough to exchange names and numbers. After the standard three day waiting period, we set up our little date.

It was nothing too special, just a jaunt through Little Italy, but I put on deodorant for this. I obviously had pretty high expectations already. We walked to a nice pizza parlor where we ate gelato. It was nice. It was cute. Had the date ended there it would have been no problem. I’d probably still see the kid every once in a while. But then he told me why he was really there.

Looking back, the main reason I was so offended was that I was willing to give this guy a chance based on who he is as a person only to be told that all he cared about, what was most important to him was my physical appearance. In addition to being insulting and in addition to it having a lot to do with the beauty standards for women in our society, it also seemed like a weird double standard. Maybe there are girls who only go out with guys because of the way they look when the guy is really into them, but I feel like what I experienced is way more common.

The physical attraction between both of us was undeniable but considering the fact that we hadn’t already hooked up I was assuming we had a chance at a good old fashioned relationship. But while being told your beautiful may offer a superficial confidence boost, having someone notice things like your wit or your taste in music and still be impressed with you is a much more satisfying boost and I’m going to hold out until I find that.

who will you be left with when you break up?

In high school (and in life) people learn that they have to have priorities. Do grades come before sports? Do friends come before family? Does my boyfriend come before everyone/everything else? After a year and a half of high school (only two and a half left – yippie!) I feel that I have a pretty good sense of how high school relationships function. Many of my friends, teammate and classmates have had boyfriends or girlfriends and so have I and what has become very obvious is that people more often than not choose their boyfriend/girlfriend over their friends, which I think is really damaging.

It’s not secret that teenagers’ hormones are raging all the time. Walking into a high school is basically like walking into a hurricane of hormones. Unfortunately, this not only has the obvious effect of making teens horny ALL THE TIME but also blinding them. A few of my very good friends started to isolate themselves once they got into relationships. This didn’t happen because their boyfriends cut them off from everybody else, but because those girls decided to pick the boy over their friends.

It’s a terrible situation. These girls forget about friends and family. Some of my friends look like lost puppies when they are not with their boyfriends. When these couples are together they even start kissing in the middle of a conversation! When they are apart they only talk about their boyfriend or their relationship problems. Honestly after more than a year and a half, having to hear about how someone thinks their boyfriend might be cheating on them gets ridiculously old. One girl I am friends with only texts me when she is worried about her boyfriend at a party, when her boyfriend doesn’t have cell reception or when she needs my opinion on their relationship. It is not cute to be attached at the hip. It doesn’t mean you’re so in love. It’s just distracting and makes girls/boys lose who they truly are. They begin to define themselves by that relationship which is a huge problem.

In my experience, this immaturity leads to a lack of trust, which is not only bad for those girls’ relationships but bad for our friendship. Over the past 6 months, my friends have been getting livid at me whenever I talk to their boyfriends. One of my friends said that the only reason I’ve been wearing make up and dressing nicely lately was just to impress her boyfriend. Needless to say I was furious because I don’t change to impress anyone but myself. I only started doing those things because my older sister said that getting ready in the morning wakes you up (which if people know how much coffee I need to drink to wake up they would understand) and also it’s the holiday season and I am happy during the holidays so why not spend a little extra time feeling nice? Of course our friends started picking sides – single friend versus girl with boyfriend – which caused so much unnecessary stress and anxiety not to mention that it weakened our once strong friendship.

Finally, what happens when these couples break up? All hell breaks lose. The person that gets broken up with (usually the clingy one) calls the dumper a “dick” or “asshole” or “tool” and many other insults. That person starts using other people to get back at the original boyfriend/girlfriend.  But after all that drama dies down, (hopefully) that person realizes that because they isolated themselves, because they accused good friends of trying to steal their significant other, they are left with fewer people who actually cared about them but got sick of being treated badly. Is it worth ending up completely without strong friendships because you thought a boy was forever? Probably not.

Anyways the point of this (other than ranting) is that we need to be able to love ourselves first. We should prioritize the people in our lives that want to be there because they care, not some high school fling. Lady Gaga says it best when she stated, “Some women choose to follow men, and some women choose to follow their dreams. If you’re wondering which way to go, remember that your career will never wake up and tell you that it doesn’t love you anymore.”

Anita Hill

On October 15th, I had the honor of participating in the “Sex, Power and Speaking the Truth: Anita Hill 20 Years Later” conference. I spoke on an intergenerational panel that also featured speakers Kimberle Crenshaw, Virginia Valian, Gloria Steinem and Devon Carbado, which was terrifying and beyond humbling, but also probably one of the coolest things I’ve ever had the opportunity to do. Using your feedback about sexual harassment and my own observations, I pulled together a speech that I thought reflected our generation’s attitudes towards sexual harassment.

I’m beyond late sharing this with the FBomb community, but I hope you enjoy it and would still love to hear your reactions to my speech or any of the other panelists’ speeches and your thoughts about sexual harassment today.

The whole conference was televised by CSPAN, so you can watch my panel here (my part starts at about 1:18:30). Otherwise, here’s an approximate version of the transcript.

TRANSCRIPT:

Founding and running the FBomb, a blog written for and by teenage feminists, has been rewarding in innumerable ways. But I think the most valuable aspect of editing the writing and comments of teenage girls and boys from all over the world has been the insight I’ve gained into the main obstacles my generation feels we face. On the FBomb, my peers have written about everything from personal struggles with body image to double standards to the sexist media coverage of female political candidates to – yes –sexual harassment.

In fact, I recently asked the FBomb community what they thought about sexual harassment – what their opinions were or if they had any stories to tell. Unsurprisingly, the community unanimously responded that sexual harassment is unequivocally wrong, and that we all think it’s ridiculous that it still occurs in 2011. What I found interesting, however, were the stories people chose to share about their experiences with sexual harassment. Specifically, they shared stories that contained a notable lack of action. One commenter described how she was sexually solicited by an older male mentor, then made to feel guilty about refusing him. She was left wondering if he had originally taken an interest in her because he thought she was smart, or just because he might get lucky. Another commenter described how a male peer tried to take off her bathing suit during a middle school swim lesson. Neither did anything about these instances, but admitted they felt horrible about them.

So why, even when we know it’s wrong, do girls still fail to act against sexual harassment? Why don’t we do something about it? Why don’t we speak out against it?

Well, there are probably countless reasons why many girls remain silent — reasons that vary greatly depending on the individual. But, overall, I think there are a few main reasons why girls today still endure sexual harassment.

First, I think we need to look at the gender conditioning we still impose on young children. Despite decades of feminist action, despite the strides we’ve made, I think my generation was still raised with gender stereotypes firmly intact. We still grew up with a social structure that encourages boys to pursue girls and girls to chastely refuse. Because while my generation, the so-called “hook up” generation, may find ways around this, while girls my age may acceptably pursue boys, while our definitions of relationships may have changed, we are still very aware that this archaic structure is our baseline. It is the guideline we must ultimately revert to. And that is incredibly problematic.

The bottom line is boys still believe that they have an inherent entitlement. Many boys still feel that they are allowed to say whatever they want to girls and solicit them in any way they see fit. How else could a group of Yale frat boys march around their campus last year chanting, “No means yes and yes means anal”?

This gender conditioning doesn’t just affect boys, though. There is, sadly, still a large percentage of young women who take these comments as compliments, who see these predatory actions as flattering attention. Because, just as guys are trained to pursue women, girls are still told that our main role is to attract men. We’re taught to compete with our female peers for the most attention, and accept any and all attention we do get.

But even if we reject such harassment, even if we stand up against it, the fact is that we still live in a victim blaming culture. Consider some of the major news headlines of the past year alone. A police officer in Toronto told members of my generation that what we wear determines whether or not we will be raped. When reading the New York Times coverage of the gang-rape of an 11-year-old in Cleveland, Texas, we noted that the reporter quoted her neighbors as saying she wore make up and dressed inappropriately. Our generation is paying attention to all of this. We are internalizing this. And this is evident in even the most superficial aspects of our lives. I think the best example is, when girls my age heard that pop-singer Rihanna was physically assaulted by her boyfriend, singer Chris Brown, many of us – too many of us — asked, “Well what did she do to force him to hit her?”

This is how we’re so easily able to write off sexual harassment. We still look at claims of sexual harassment and first doubt the woman, because that is what we are trained to do. We think any woman who claims she was sexually harassed is probably over reacting, or the whole thing was probably her fault. We blame the victim because that is what credible people, like police officers, and credible news sources do. So why wouldn’t we?

Another significant problem my generation faces with sexual harassment is that we’re still not sure exactly what it is, and I think this stems back to our attitudes towards the feminist movement at large.

For my peers and me, feminism is no longer a fight against obvious obstacles. We won Roe v. Wade. We won Title IX. The list goes on. No, feminism for my generation, for the most part, is not about “getting” rights. It’s about preserving them. Feminism for my generation has largely become a much more subtle fight, full of nuance.

And this is where it becomes complicated for my generation to integrate our feminist beliefs and values into our daily lives. Because while my generation as a whole may be passionate about fighting injustices, while we may theoretically be able to identify what is acceptable and what is not, we find it difficult to recognize the same injustices we speak against on a theoretical level within the contexts of our own lives. We have a semblance of understanding, a superficial acknowledgment of “right” and “wrong.” But it doesn’t always permeate our actions. And I think our relationship with sexual harassment is a perfect example of this paradox.

As a whole, young women undeniably reject sexual harassment: we know that it is wrong and is something that should be fought. I think a lot of this understanding is a direct result of Anita Hill’s courageous decision to publically fight against sexual harassment. Yes, she did so when many of us were very young or (like in my case) before we were even born. Unfortunately, far too few of us even know who she is. But even though we didn’t necessarily witness her actions first hand, they undeniably impacted our lives. Because of Anita Hill, we were born into an environment in which sexual harassment is taken seriously, in which it is legally considered a serious, unacceptable offense.

Yes, in theory, my generation is completely intolerant of sexual harassment and knows that it’s unacceptable. Yet, the same young women who say they’re opposed to sexual harassment often end up enduring it. Because, like many other forms of sexism, sexual harassment in real life doesn’t always have a huge flashing arrow pointing itself out to us. And yet, we expect that it will. We expect that sexual harassment will always take the form of a man physically grabbing us on the street. We think sexual harassment means our boss demanding that we sleep with him if we want to keep our jobs. We don’t think of sexual harassment as uncomfortable come-ons. We don’t think of sexual harassment as comments made to us on the street. We don’t think of sexual harassment as the “uncomfortable” jokes guys in our classes sometimes make. And yet it is.

Whereas many offices and workplaces routinely have seminars and workshops about sexual harassment, the same does not occur in high schools, or even in middle schools. Our exposure to the concept of sexual harassment – as is the case with many things for my generation – is largely delivered to us through the media. Most often, it is presented as humor. It is made fun of and it is belittled. And this is how the line can get blurred – this is how we can experience sexual harassment but feel unsure about whether or not we really did, or what to do about it.

Basically, there’s something missing between the surface communication that sexual harassment is wrong and understanding and integration of this principle into our own lives. We know the “right answer” we’re supposed to give – sexual harassment is bad — but we don’t always remember the right answer when the hypothetical becomes real.

However, this is not the reality for all of us. There are many young women who are taking action, who are speaking out against sexual harassment and refusing to tolerate it any longer.

I think this is evident from the recent SlutWalks, in which young women marched in the street protesting our victim-blaming culture.

I think this is evident from Hollaback, an organization started by young women that encourages other women, to post pictures of the men who sexually harass us online, and therefore hold them accountable for their actions.

I think this is even evident from recent legal cases, in which young women did fight sexual harassment. 2007 brought the case of Simpson v. University of Colorado Boulder, in which female university students brought charges against fellow male university students who sexually harassed and assaulted them at a party and held the University accountable for their past indifference about such matters. The same year, we witnessed the case of Jennings v. University of North Carolina, in which a female university soccer player brought charges against her coach, who sexually harassed her and her fellow teammates. Both cases were ruled in favor of the women who had experienced sexual harassment. Those young women recognized an injustice and took action, to rightfully successful results.

It’s not that there is no hope left for my generation. It’s just that our work, as the feminist movement and as women at large, isn’t yet done. And believe me, there are plenty of us who are willing to continue the fight. There are plenty of us who are willing to take Anita Hill’s legacy and run with it.

losing your virginity: Glee style

There’s a first time for everything. Last night was the first time I watched a full episode of Glee from start to finish by myself. The fifth episode of Season 3 is all about first times. For those of you out there who haven’t seen the show, here’s a quick rundown: Rachel and Blaine are starring in the West Side Musical. Artie calls them out mid-way through rehearsal for not having enough “passion” and wants them to pull from their sexual experiences to convey that passion to the audience. Rachel and Blaine are clearly embarrassed as they both admit that they’re virgins. Over the course of the next 40 minutes, the two go back and forth between consummating their relationships with their respective significant others.

This episode was clearly created for shock value and to create controversy with the chastity-belt endorsing set rather than an opportunity to actually provide viewers with some real sex-education (which would’ve been nice). But, honestly, there’s a lot of sex on TV. Insert sex into any teen show and *boom* instant conflict. “Does he really like me?” “Am I pregnant?” “She slept with my best friend? I must destroy her now!” With shows like Gossip Girl and 90210 all over the airwaves, it’s usually just assumed at some point in the characters’ backstory, their innocence was destroyed. And I guess that was the one really nice thing about this episode of Glee. We’re not just supposed to assume everybody has already slept around a lot (like in other shows) but are rather faced with multiple people deciding whether or not to trade in their “V-Cards”.

Just because you’re a virgin doesn’t mean you’re alone. In fact, it wasn’t until I started college that I realized just how few people actually were having sex regularly in high school. As Artie says, “It’s a human experience”- one that changes people. Sex is totally normal but it’s something that needs to be thought about. And it was made clear in this episode that sex was something these characters had taken their time with.

That being said, there’s a lot of pressure in this episode to wait for love before having sex. I’m totally for this but come on, we’re teenagers. What we believe is “love” today may very well be gone tomorrow. First love, true love – I don’t think these things necessarily have to be set as a standard for losing your virginity. Time and time again you’ll hear stories about people who had sex for the first time because they were in love, then soon after regret it after a nasty break up. So instead of finding someone who just loves you, or even whom you love, look for someone who most importantly respects you and your opinions. During the girl chat in Glee, Tina discloses the reason, besides true love, that sex was such a great thing: she talked about sex a lot with her partner, who she clearly shared mutual respect and trust with, ahead of time, which allowed her to come to terms with what a huge step she was taking.

So whether you’re having sex the first time with someone you love, or with somebody you like and respect, know that you must ultimately live with that decision. Feelings and emotions you never anticipated will surface no matter what the situation is and you can’t control that. Sure, Glee makes it look beautiful with all the cuddling at the end, but life exists after the pillow talk. Losing your virginity is just one decision among many you’ll make for the rest of your life. So do what needs to be done. Make a pro/con list, talk about it with your partner/best friend/sibling/Mom/cool Aunt, even take a pledge of abstinence if that’s what’s right for you. But above all else (and yes it’s cliche, but it’s true) do what’s right for you.

sometimes, alone time is a good thing

When I was fourteen, my dad told me that the most important thing I would ever learn was how to be alone. Granted, he said this as he took away my cell phone, Facebook and cut off all ties I had to the outside world. I was crushed to say the least. At the time, high-school-freshman-me felt like my dad was completely overreacting to the fact that I had made out with a boy, especially since he was my boyfriend. That meant something, right? And my friends had all kissed boys, so I didn’t understand why it wasn’t okay that I had, too.

However, the time spent on my virtual desert island, as sucky as it was, really allowed me time to think. During this period I spent most waking moments alone in my room — it was that or talk to my repressive parents, so the choice was obvious. Stuck in my own head, I was able to think about the boundaries I needed to set for myself. I’d already hit first base, and rounding home was clearly the point of the game. Only here’s the thing: at fourteen, the idea of doing anything more than kissing terrified me.

Even though I was perfectly content with simply kissing, my boyfriend at the time was pushing me to do more. After all, we really did care about each other and both of us had heard stories of other fun “extracurriculars” our older friends partook in. Even though at the time I was uncomfortable with handjobs, blowjobs and *whisper* sex, I was considering trying them. But the thing was, I was only thinking about doing them because I wanted to be liked. On my personal lonely island, I came to the realization that if I gave into any of those things at that moment in time, I wouldn’t like myself.

That’s how I learned that if your boyfriend or girlfriend doesn’t respect your personal boundaries, forget them. You do you.

In the meantime, I’ve compiled a list of fun things to do solo, until you find the right person and it feels like the right time.

- write haikus professing your undying love to yourself
- beat your personal best running time
- catch up on your zzz’s (no need for beauty sleep, we’re all beautiful to begin with)
- practice kissing on your hand (no need to get out of practice)
- learn to cook your favorite meal

The thing is, after I spent all that time without having to please other people, I no longer felt the need to compromise on things I knew would bother me just to be with a certain boy or even a certain group of people. My advice for everyone out there is to learn to be your own best friend. It’s the one person you have to live with for the rest of your life. So BEFORE you end up in an intimate situation with anyone, think about what you’re comfortable with. That way, when you are with somebody you respect and you feel ready, the whole experience will be that much better.

what have you been texting lately?

In our world of technology and instant communication, sentiments often get lost in cyberspace. In fact, there’s a whole website devoted to some of the crazy mishaps that can occur during texting. But when texting is successful, I can confidently say that one of its most common (and more recent) uses is as a means of hooking up and conducting relationships.

Some of my friends use text messaging in order to conduct their booty calls in college. If you meet someone at a party and exchange numbers, a text conversation is sure to ensue in the hopes of ultimately having a sexual encounter. One of my friends told me that if she is planning on meeting up with someone that she has been casually texting, she will continue to text until she enters the dorm room or meeting location and they physically connect. This notion of texting as foreplay is one that is worth our time and consideration—perfect for the busy college student.

In the world of the text message, there are a series of unspoken rules that we follow. These obviously differ a bit by location and within social circles, but basic guidelines remain constant. Proper texting protocol can be quite confusing as far as who initiates the conversation, use of emoticons, how long to wait in between texts and the overall tone of the message. In the case of texting as it relates to hooking up, however, all of this texting is ultimately foreplay — simply a song and dance leading to sex.

Although texting is often considered the best way to set up a hook-up, it presents some difficulties. In texts you can be all of the things you want to be in public when attempting to get your game on: a blend of humor which is direct yet still erotic. Texting results in just the right level of invasiveness that allows you to come off as simultaneously interested yet detached. Painfully shy people, who may not have been able to express private sentiments about a person they like, now have a means of expressing their inner kinky selves.

However, there are pitfalls. The limited space of a text can just as easily be sexy and flirty as it can be confusing and hurtful. There are no voice intonations or sarcasm options in texts and sometimes, a winky face simply won’t suffice. Being rejected or rejecting someone via text is much easier to do than via a real conversation. Sexting and other forms of texting can also be the source of lots of drama in relationships. Where then is the line drawn between socially texting a potential partner and engaging in destructive behavior?

Texting isn’t just for hook ups, though, even in a romantic context. Couples also use texts as a way to keep the spark alive during the day and to let their partner know that they are thinking about them. During class and across campus, I constantly see people holding their phones with smirks or wide grins across their faces – it’s easy to guess what kind of text they might be reading.

There are obviously a lot of pro’s and con’s to texting as it relates to the way our generation conducts our romantic relationships. What do you think? How has texting played a role in your hook-ups/relationships/romantic encounters of all sorts?