Dear Coquette,

My father has agreed that I shouldn’t have to attend church if I don’t want to, but I should find another morally enriching pastime to take up my Sunday mornings to help appease my religious mother’s rage. Any suggestions of altruistic ways for this 18-year-old to spend her time?

Volunteer at a hospital. Serve at a soup kitchen. Become a big sister. Don’t do it to appease your mother’s sanctimonious rage. Do it because it’s a better use of your time.

Putting in actual work on behalf of those less fortunate than you is infinitely more righteous than wasting your Sunday in supplication to some imaginary dictator in the sky.

A very close friend of mine recently moved in with a woman he’s been on and off with for the past year. I really don’t like her. She bosses my friend around and insults his friends and family to their faces. I want to stay in my friend’s life, but it’s getting harder to hold my tongue around her and I’m afraid I’ll say something one day that will damage my friendship with him irreparably. Do I disappear before it gets messy, or can I do something to cope with her behavior? He’s made it very clear that they’re a package deal. I’m happy and in a relationship, so I don’t think jealousy is coloring this situation. I just hate to see him with someone that acts like such a manipulative, pretentious bitch.

Your friend has made his choice, and if he wants to move in with a bitch, he’ll have to suffer the consequences of alienating his friends and family. Maybe he’ll learn his lesson. Maybe he won’t. Either way, you’re not obligated to stick around and put up with the girlfriend’s negativity.

At the very least, you should let your friend know that things aren’t going to end well. Shoot him straight. Let him know how you feel. Tell him you’ll do your best to bite your tongue, but if you can’t, then you’ll have to make yourself scarce while she’s around.

Just remember, mouthing off to the girlfriend will get you nothing but a brief moment of satisfaction, and it will cripple your friendship as long as they’re together.

Why does cutting myself make me feel better? I don’t cut deep. Is it really that bad if it “centers” me when I’m at my worst?

Cutting doesn’t center you. It just sends a rush of endorphins through your system. All you’re doing is chasing a cheap high because you don’t have the coping skills to handle your emotions. Find a healthier way. Don’t rationalize self-harm.

Dear Coquette,

I’m a bisexual woman in a stable, long-term relationship with a man. He is very understanding and supportive of my sexuality, so much so that I’m free to be with women in whatever capacity I need. My problem is the guilt that comes with this freedom, and the worry that one day he will change his mind and that eating the proverbial cake will become the death of my relationship.

It would be different if my trysts with women were varied and unimportant, but they aren’t. There’s just one woman, and she’s been around longer than he has. She is, essentially, the Fermina Daza to my Florentino Ariza. I always have and always will pine for her, and if my man were to split, I would pursue her. I have been with other women, before and after starting my relationship with my boyfriend, but it always comes back to her. This doesn’t take away from what I have with him in the least, which makes choosing one over the other inconceivable.

She has been with only me and one other woman, and has come to the conclusion that I am the exception to her otherwise heterosexual preference. So my question is, do I keep satisfying my need for women with someone who is otherwise satisfied by men, and risk exhausting my boyfriend’s mellow attitude about the whole thing? Or am I being sexually selfish and have the responsibility to choose one gender over the other?

I don’t want to complicate the lives of two absolutely gorgeous and wonderful people just because they happen to be okay with the arrangement right now. But then again, perhaps my possibly unnecessary guilt is making me read too deeply into the situation and I should just calm down and accept them both. I’m lost in this.

You have embraced your bisexuality, and that’s great, but this isn’t about sex. You’re lost in this because it’s about intimacy and love, and you’re not quite comfortable with polyamory.

You feel guilty because an internal set of values is in conflict with an external set of circumstances. Specifically, you’re in an intimate relationship of romantic love with both a man and a woman at the same time, and on some fundamental level, your value system is telling you that such a thing is wrong.

It’s not wrong, though. You’re being open and honest with both of them, and your guilt seems to be arising from the nontraditional nature of the relationships rather than from any lack of integrity on your part. That’s a good thing, and that’s why a situation like this can work if you continue being open and honest not only with them, but also with yourself.

You see, this isn’t about choosing one gender over the other, and this doesn’t have to be about choosing one person over the other. This is merely about choosing a nontraditional set of values over traditional ones. Are you and your romantic partners all cool with that?

It sounds like your boyfriend and girlfriend are willing to share you with each other physically, but are they willing to share you emotionally? I bet they are, and if so, you should definitely calm down and accept them both. You’re already in a nontraditional arrangement as it is, so relax and enjoy it. After all, complex relationships are not the same thing as complicated ones.

Dear Coquette,

A year ago, my husband and I lost our daughter while I was 36 weeks pregnant. We were and still are completely devastated, and to make matters worse, our wounds were re-opened just two months ago when I suffered the loss of another pregnancy.

My husband has a decent job and I am currently a full-time nursing student so although money can be tight, we get by and would have more than enough to provide for a child. After the miscarriage two months ago, we initially wanted to go full force into trying again with the okay from our doctor since I’m finishing school up in just two weeks, but don’t know for certain.

I, for one, feel as though the bad things that have happened to us are signs from the universe telling my husband that now is obviously not the time, so we decided, tearfully, to put off trying for a baby so I can continue my education even further and enter in a two-year program. The thing is, we both struggle with the decision we’ve made ALL the time and are so conflicted. One minute we’re talking about me getting me an IUD and the next, we’re crumbling at the sight of a baby and say, “Screw it. Let’s try and have a baby anyway.”

I know you’ll be straightforward with your advice, and to be honest, we need straight talk because most of the time, our family and friends give us sugar-coated answers because they are afraid to hurt our feelings during this “sensitive” time. I used to say that there’s never a right time to start a family and that no matter what situation arises, we would make it work, but I don’t know if simply making it work will be good enough for our hypothetical child that we want to give everything to. 

I will be a high-risk patient who may have to be put on complete bed rest, so should I put off school even further? Should we wait until years down the line when (I can only hope) we’ll be even more financially stable? Or should we throw caution to the wind and give in?

Well, the good news is that none of the bad things that happened to you were signs from the universe regarding your reproductive fate. The universe is indifferent to your suffering, so you needn’t bother salting your wounds with superstition. 

Instead, listen to your doctors and listen to your body. Are you physically and emotionally prepared for the rigors of a high-risk pregnancy, or worse yet, the possibility of another miscarriage? This is the heart of your dilemma. Everything else is rationalization, and no one but you can know the answer to the fundamental question: Are you ready to do it again?

The only way you can get this wrong is to not be honest with yourself. Don’t be distracted with arguments about your education or your financial stability. They are important practical considerations when starting a family, but you already decided to do that two years ago. This isn’t a question about whether to start a family. This is a question about whether to start a pregnancy. 

To arrive at an honest answer, you need to filter out all of the irrelevant noise. You need to make a candid assessment of your strength, and recognize that there is no shame in coming to terms with your limits. Ask yourself, can you handle the uncertainty of a high-risk pregnancy? Could you handle the trauma of losing another baby? Are you ready to do it again?

If you’re strong enough, then you have an answer. If a negative outcome would break your spirit, then you also have an answer. There is no right or wrong answer. There is only the honest one.