Sexcapades: Dating – Am I the Dating Type?

Sexcapades

Am I the Dating Type? Maybe Not Right Now, and That’s Okay.

Let’s start from the beginning: Middle School Dating.

I swear I must have had more game back in like the sixth grade because I was always wrapped up in some dating drama. I used to “date” this boy on and off again from like fifth to eighth grade. Even to this day, one of my best friends still likes reminding me of the drama that was my relationship was this boy. It’s crazy because I’m working for the YMCA now, and dealing with middle school aged tweens and teens. I constantly have to tell them they are too young to date. It is very hypocritical for me to say but I wish I got that talk. Or, at least remember getting that talk.

What’s so funny about this age is because you think you are so grown. Especially when you are in eighth grade. Personally, my school enrolled kids starting from kindergarten, and went all the way through eighth grade. Suffice to say, I felt pretty grown and like a hot shot being in the oldest grade. And confusingly enough, this was probably the only time in my life where I wished I had a boyfriend. Middle school is a weird time for everyone, including you when you’re trying to figure out who you are.

I guess dating in middle school is like a way of figuring out what kind of person you want to be. As a young teen, you start become self-aware and self-conscious of your body and life changing. It is always the ultimate confidence boost when someone likes you and wants to date you. So (and I am coming to this conclusion as I write) maybe, dating in middle school is not so bad after all.  That is, until another boy who you really liked tells you that he likes you, but then takes it back a week later. Yep, that happened to me. “I thought I liked you, but I don’t” (Remember that for later) .

Moving on to my smartest dating decisions in a time I call: Sophomore Summer Love 

High school was a totally different beast. Freshman year, I feel like I tried to avoid interaction with people as much as possible. I was very cultured shocked and scared. There were some more deeper and personal reasons that really shaped my dating life all the way through college. Toward the end of my freshman year I started to come out of my shell. I had a group of friends that would hang out every day at one of my best friend’s house. Over the course of the summer, my friend Gabby started to date this boy who happened to have a very cute friend. On the week of the annual Saint Michael’s feast, I met this boy. He was so my type: tall, dark hair, light eyes. Although, in college I switched the dark hair for blond hair.

The chemistry was instant, but my friends were bit hesitant on him meeting me. Originally they wanted to set him up with another friend. Fortunately, it was undeniable that we liked each other from the start. With my friends’ blessing, I began what was probably the first time I started to “talk” to someone. And for the initiated, talking is when two people like each other a lot and have established that they like each other but they aren’t technically “boyfriend” and “girlfriend” yet, but they don’t talk to other people.

To continue, this boy and I continued on throughout the remaining of the summer, but then I began to have my doubts. As a person who is assertive and can come off as aggressive, I don’t like when people are insecure. It is a trait that is not very compassionate of me, and I admit that boys definitely have it harder than girls when it comes to expressing feelings. One day, I thought this boy was going to make a move and kiss me before he left to go home. However, he didn’t and it was probably because he was too nervous. In high school it is also a hard time to dateI felt rejected by this and I got in my head that he didn’t like me. 

In the efforts to save myself from being hurt I did what I am now infamous for: running away. I told him that I “thought I liked him, but I don’t.” It came full circle. I was so afraid that he was going to end it before more that I made it competition. Who can hurt who first. After I did this I felt immense guilt. I did like him, I really did. I’m not going to lie and say that I didn’t regret it during high school. He was so sweet and nice and from what I remember he even treated me right! If this was a superhero movie this is the part where you see a character become a villain because they let their fear and ego take control. 

And for the the third act of my dating saga: College Love?

Like mentioned before, high school was a hard time for me, though I rarely ever let it show. During this time, I felt like I was unlovable and I wore that on my sleeve by saying that I had no soul. I had literally made myself believe that I was a stone cold bitch and boys would not like me. I was battling many internal demons that it felt like any boy who dared tried to get close to me was an attack on my very being. 

College was somewhat the same, however, I started to resolve some of these issues. I began exploring my sexuality more than I did in high school. Yet, I still didn’t feel the need to be in a relationship with these boys. Don’t get me wrong, I did like some of them but I wasn’t too keen on dating them. To be frank, I was still scared. Scared of rejection, humiliation and worse bestowing those feelings on to them. I still wouldn’t let any boy get close to my guarded heart. Some may argue that I did tell them intimate things, to me though, they weren’t at all. I just told them what they wanted to hear so they didn’t think I was stone cold. Although, one did call me that and I laughed.

It is not that I don’t feel loveable now, I know that I am full capable of giving and receiving love. However, I feel like the boys that I meet are not on same wave length that I am, so as a result, I just have sex with them. Honestly, it gives me a release because I’ll only have sex if I enjoy it with the person. As one should always do. Sex is sex, as long as it’s good, consensual sex. I’ve seen it so many times, girls settling for some lame guy who only knows missionary and doggy style. I once met a girl who openly admitted to me that sex is sex and it doesn’t have to be good. That statement literally blew my mind because I can think of some many other things I can do in those 10 minutes (and that’s just being generous). 

As my time in college progressed I learned that I genuinely love my single life. I enjoy flirting, I enjoy my alone time, I enjoy the excitement of going to a party and talking to many boys. I don’t have to worry about a jealous partner—not that I would attract one. I get to sleep in my bed all by myself and star-fish out so I can take up every single inch. It’s not that I don’t want a relationship, human beings need companionship. I am just very comfortable where I am at right now. I am in the process of starting a new job that actually pertains what career I want. I am transitioning into my final months in college and I’ve accomplished more than I’ve ever dreamt of at KCR.  

Don’t get it twisted and confuse me with some stereotypical career driven woman that you see on TV. Not all career driven women are stone cold and only want to further their career before they settle down and have children. Like I said I am just comfortable where I am at right now. I am in my power, my confidence, my fire. If love finds away in than so be it, but right now I’m enjoy being single. And, that is a true character development for this girl who no longer sees herself as a villain. 

If you have a funny, enlightening or educational sex piece that you’d like to submit, fill out this form. Which reminds me of something…

You guys remember the previous post right? About creepy DMS? Well, there’s a next level creeper in town: RANDOM COMMENTERS.

The worst of the worst. They are like the boss in the video games that you need to beat to win the level. So quick story time; I posted a smokin’ beach pic from my trip to Venice Beach. While I was looking at the comment section, filled with my personal hype-people (a.k.a friends), I noticed an outlier. A random person with a comment that read “Yum” followed by the fire emoji. I nearly vomited. An unknown person who I don’t know commented “Yum” for everyone to see, including my family. Image

This image has an empty alt attribute; its file name is IMG_4621-1020x196.jpg
Here’s a picture for proof
Written by: Julie Cappiello

In the Pink: What I’ve Learned From Writing Love Letters

Love letters

Love letters have allowed me to grow my heart, and feel comforted during those times where I feel I have no one else to do so.

A number of weeks ago, I went into Marshalls with a friend and ended up spending money I didn’t have. What else is new, amirightttttt? I used $7 to be exact and ended up subtracting it from my allotted gas money. Wow, you might be thinking. 7 dollars is like two entire gallons of gas and then some if you go to Arco or a similarly cheap station. You must’ve purchased something awesome to be wasting gas money so frivolously.

Yeah! I bought paper.

Specifically, I purchased a bundle of colorful and declarative greeting cards with uplifting and inspiring statements printed on the front sides. They trumpet things like “Your smile lights up the room” and “The world is better with you in it.” At this point, you might now be thinking Giiiiiiiirl, how on earth is that a good purchase? You literally have paper at home and pens and a perfectly functional right hand that could’ve written out those phrases for free.You’re also right.

But here’s the thing, you fiscally responsible creature; I’m writing love letters.

And I need wonderful paper to match.

For the past few months, I have been mailing handwritten letters to my family and friends back home. I moved to San Diego at the end of the summer and am now living the furthest away from my loved ones than I ever have. It’s really only about 100 or so miles, which isn’t a lot to those students who come from the other end of the country or world. I have always been very close to my family and friends, though. We congregate for every holiday, celebrate every birthdays and recognize every little accomplishment with a big dinner out. We have always found excuses to enjoy each other’s company and suddenly, I am not showing up at my sisters’ school functions, or my uncle’s parties and it breaks my heart.

I’ve spent many tearful nights missing my family, and there’s been plenty of times where I’ve come close to packing it all up and leaving this new school without a degree, just so I can be back at home.

I miss being surrounded by people who I love and people who love me.

That’s something I’ve found that no one really talks about when discussing the transition to living at a school away from your friends and family. I went from being surrounded by an unconditional support group to now living among people who honestly don’t care about me. And why would they? They don’t know me. My parents, on the other hand, have adored me since I was a crying alien-looking thing fresh out of the vagina and have loved me every second since. They will love me even when they read that I’ve written the phrase “fresh out of the vagina” which is not how they raised me to speak. Yet, I’m betting they will tell me how proud they are of this post anyhow. I will never find that sort of love anywhere else.

Despite the brutal loneliness that has sucker-punched me in the goddamn face, I can’t quit school. I don’t want to. I’m learning so much and have a hell of a lot more growing to do. But I discovered almost immediately after I moved here that I needed to find a substitute for all that love and affection I’ve become accustomed to. It was taking a serious toll on my mental health to go from a situation of ever-present love to one of indifference and apathy. It’s like The Lumineers sing in that one song: “The opposite of love’s indifference.” I agree, Wesley Shultz, I totally and wholeheartedly agree.

I was in need of some coping tools. And ASAP. Enter love letters.

It took a very long time, but I have discovered that a hand-written love letter is the best conduit of magic. When I began writing said letters, I was skeptical. It felt archaic and a little pretentious. I kept going, though. And after some time, I started to gain some mega spiritual benefits. It’s been so therapeutic and cathartic. I buy the nicest paper, use my very best pens and fold the letters lovingly into crisp envelopes stamped with gorgeous stamps. It’s ceremonial from beginning to end. In these letters, I confess my love to my parents, siblings and friends. I’ve written notes for my cousins and grandparents. Hell, I’ll confess my love to you, too, if you send me your address.

For me, the happiness is in the process. I have shifted my mindset from victim to fortune’s favorite. Instead of focusing on lack, I acknowledge the surplus of love that exists in my life. My goal was once to not feel so far away, but now it’s about expressing my gratitude and affection. It’s nice to tell people I love them. I don’t know what it’s like for them on the other end, but I imagine it’s also nice to hear that you’re loved. I don’t try to create poetry or worry about whether the string of words I’ve chosen fully encapsulate the tenderness in my heart. I just write. I write until my hand cramps and my vision blurs.

I’m happier for it. I don’t feel so victimized by my loneliness. I feel grateful and joyous and alive. So when you think about it, isn’t 7 dollars worth of gas a small price to pay?

Written by: Monica Vigil

The Pansexual Panel: Group Sex and Polyamory

The Pansexual Panel

Group sex, polyamory, and most importantly, taking care of yourself is the core message of the latest issue of The Pansexual Panel.

Let’s all collectively admit that people are giving polyamory a bad name by slapping it on every instance of group sex and calling it a day. Okay, now let’s take a step back and really dig into what the heck I’m talking about. Just the other day a question threw me for a loop; how do people even get into a situation were multiple people want to have sex with you?

It’s a fair question. And on my part, all the situations I’ve ended up in before just happened naturally. Not to say some didn’t have a few kinks (no pun intended) to work out. But to be perfectly honest it was more of a “right time, right place” kind of situation. Before delving into the topic, it should be noted that when polyamory is done right, when everyone is open and honest about their needs and wants, it works really well. It does require that you put out a lot more effort, but the payoff is almost always worth it.

And for the uninitiated: “Polyamory is the practice of, or desire for, intimate relationships with more than one partner, with the consent of all partners involved.”

Let’s assume for this round that you are in fact looking to get into a sexual encounter with multiple people at the same time. Well good for you! Most people feel weird about sex in general but here you are wanting to dive head first into sexual exploration. My first instinct is to over plan, so definitely do not do that. However, this doesn’t mean you should skip expectations and limits. That’s right: LIMITS! Just because it’s a more open group doesn’t mean you have to compromise something. Establish these rules before moving forward and people will know you are serious about your boundaries.

Safety should always stick at the top of the list, both mentally and physically. Are you sexually active? Then get tested every 6 months to a year, or better yet, every 3-6 months. As long as you are making yourself top priority, you can literally do anything you like. Oftentimes people will try to rain on your parade and limit what you do; don’t let them! That message is especially directed towards femmes and ladies: slut shaming isn’t cool, “dude,” and I’m here to tell you that everyone else is just JEALOUS. That’s right, full on Jelly!

But all in all, if you want more legitimate information about sex in general check out the book: The Guide to Getting It On by Paul-Joannides

This book changed my life when I first read it 8 years ago, and I sure hope it gets you started down a road of sexual positivity. Until next time, enjoy your sex and make sure you don’t compromise your comfort for some else’s pleasure.

Written by: Jonathan Sotelo

Sunflower Seeds: New York, New York

New York, New York, I love you! I know that last time I was ranting about how I left Chicago to start a new life in San Diego, but I would move to the East Coast in a New York Minute.

I have never been to such a fast-paced city with so much passion and excitement. Now, before I go off tangent on how much I loved the New York, NY, the Big Apple, Times Square and all those other goodies, I would like to talk about my trip from the beginning.

Approximately 16 of us arrived at the JFK airport after an exhausting morning flight. Some of the fellow travelers had been to the city before, but I would be losing my New York virginity. By the time we got our luggage, we were eager to finally head to our hotel. Unsurprisingly, I somehow managed to lose all 15 other travelers and ended up wandering the subway for an hour. Mind you, I had never been there before, I had no cell phone service, and I wasn’t wearing my glasses/contacts so I was off to a teriffic start. After a few deep breaths, I figured out where I was going and fortunately met up with the rest of the group at our hotel.

I lived in an atrocious, filthy, and cockroach infested apartment this past summer (that is another seed to tell), but this seedy New York hotel was just as bad.

As soon as my three other roommates and I stepped onto our floor, we knew this was going to be awful. The outside of the room doors looked like coffins, so we knew we were entering death. There was mold covering the heater, and the bathroom looked like it was straight out of a horror movie.

One morning I showered so I could refresh after a long night out. I was relaxing and laying down on the bed when I saw something move out of the corner of my eye. I looked up, and what do I see, a RAT!!! This wasn’t a cute Ratatouille situation (even though the rat might have been looking for one); this was a very big problem in my eyes. Frantically, I called the front desk and they let us move up two floors to another room that wasn’t too spectacular either. The appliances didn’t seem to work in this one, but at least it was rat free to my knowledge. Out of my entire time of being in the city and on the subway, the only rat I saw just so happened to be in my room! Needless to say, not a lot of time was spent in that ratty hotel.

Later I ventured out to Central Park with one of my roommates to escape the the rat drama.

We were so shocked as to how elegant and captivating a piece of land in the middle of a major city could be. It had snowed the night before, so it looked like it would be in a Hallmark Movie scene. It was pretty cold, but I kind of missed the brisk air in a nostalgic way. Oddly enough, it was refreshing to be bundled up in three puffy jackets. In the park there is a John Lennon memorial. As an overall big Beatles fan, I was overjoyed to be there (I might have shed a tear or two).

I did a ton of exploring in the city and began to feel a bit like Carrie Bradshaw, but only now can I see why she would love the men there. They all seem driven, and honestly their were some of the most attractive men I’ve ever seen (I really dig a man in an Italian suit). The only thing I didn’t care for was the cost of everything. I might have spent a remarkable amount of money on drinks, and my bank account surely suffered, but I had the time of my life so who can really complain.

There are not enough words to explain how marvelous New York was. I loved it because of the liveliness and motivation the city seemed to breathe; overall, the atmosphere was very energetic and the people seemed to be incredibly hard working. Here, I don’t think anyone could ever be bored, for there is always something to see or somewhere to go. It was bright, it was loud, it was New York City. Like Frank Sinatra, I want to wake up in a city that never sleeps.

Written by: Nina Capuani