F*ck Me: A Memoir

  I recently watched a few programs on television that really got me thinking. The first was the newest season of Love is Blind  and the second was the Netflix limited series, A Perfect Couple . No, I’m serious, they both got me thinking - and thinking about the same thing: Kink Shaming. Let me explain. In the former, a resentful lover lashes out at the recently-dubbed “love of her life” (I’m not even going to go there) after finding out he was sexting with another woman. While I understood her pain, anger and desire to hurt him, I was genuinely shocked when her response was to focus on how “disgusting and perverted”* his desires were, rather than the fact that he had broken her trust and hurt her. It almost seemed as if her discovery of his anal fixations and other unnamed sexual proclivities offended her more than the fact that he had discussed and planned to do them with another woman. Now, I’m not defending the emotional cheating (and from what it sounds like, plans ...

  I keep thinking I have the lowest expectations of dating and potential partners I could possibly have... and yet, I'm constantly shocked at how low the bar can go. When I became single a few years ago, I'd already given up expecting to:           meet someone organically           find someone who checks all my boxes           find someone who checks some of my boxes           find someone who checks any of my boxes           find someone who can find my boxes But now, on top of this list of non-expectations (and in addition to some fundamental dealbreakers such as no bigots, addicts, abusers, or severely mentally-ill people), I've had to create the following list to weed out undesirables I didn't even know existed prior to getting back in the dating game five years ago:         Must be willing to set a date and time to meet...