Dear Coquette,

I had sex for the first time the other night, and ever since, I’ve been down on myself. It’s gotten to the point where whenever I read, “Virgins are like unicorns these days” or some stuff like that, I get this cringe-y feeling in my stomach. I just feel depressed. How do I overcome this? I’m probably just being hormonal, huh?

Nope, it’s not hormones. What you’re experiencing is a thick warm slice of good old-fashioned sexual shame. It’s ugly stuff, and the best way to overcome it is to start critically examining the cultural cues that cause you to feel that way. You can’t help but live in a society that shames you for having sex, but you sure as hell don’t have to listen to it.

You’ve been conditioned to believe that virginity is sacred and sex is dirty, when neither is particularly true. If you’re ready to be sexually active, that’s OK. If you’re not, that’s OK too. Either way, your sexuality isn’t a bad thing. It’s a natural part of the human condition, and as long as you’re smart about it and practice safe sex, you have no reason to feel ashamed.

The sex is getting boring after two and half years. He’s not putting in the same effort to get me into it like he used to. We’ll just be lying together still and quiet, and he’ll very abruptly ask for it. It’s not sexy at all, and then I feel reluctant. How do I fix it?

It took two and a half years for the sex to get boring? That’s not bad, considering you sound like the type who just lies there. Light your own damn fire, lady. It’s not his job to get you into it. If you want foreplay, initiate it yourself. Tell him what you want. Make an effort, and I have no doubt he’ll reciprocate.

I’m dating an older man. He’s sexy, funny, successful and charming, but recently he’s been having some erectile issues. He’s avoiding Viagra as a point of pride, but I know it would help. How do I convince him to use the little blue pill without hurting his feelings?

Yeah, been there. You might wanna suggest taking it together recreationally. That way, it becomes a kinky thing instead of a dysfunction thing. Most likely, you’ll only need to get him to try it once. After that, he’ll keep a bottle by the bedside table.

Dear Coquette,

A family friend used to molest me for years. I never said anything to my mom as I was afraid she wouldn’t believe me. Three of my friends who didn’t know one another had reported he had touched them, at three completely different times. My mom called all three of them liars, and would still ship me over to Uncle Perv’s house for unsupervised sleepovers for the weekend. It makes me sick to my stomach even typing this now, as it’s the first time I’ve even admitted to myself that this happened.

I’m in my late 20s now and have grown very distant from my family. Other than the obligatory phone call on birthdays and holidays, I avoid them at all costs.

My question is, do I tell my mom now? She is still close with this “uncle” figure. And, frankly, I don’t see how telling her will be a benefit. She can’t change the past and all it will do is make her potentially hate herself. I feel I am a well-adjusted adult, but I just want to completely cut all ties with my family so I never have to think about it again. 

You may be a well-adjusted adult, but that doesn’t mean you’re emotionally healthy. Your abuse is still very much an unresolved issue, and while you may have found methods of coping, you haven’t found any peace.

An emotionally healthy person wouldn’t want to cut all ties with her family to avoid processing her childhood sexual trauma. I’m sure you’ve got plenty of other reasons for avoiding your mom, but Uncle Perv shouldn’t have to be one of them.

It’s pretty clear your mother has a powerful mechanism for denial, and I think you’re afraid of it. I get the feeling that on some fundamental level, you very much want to tell your mother what happened, but you’re worried that her denial will allow her to somehow keep this man in her life.

In other words, you’re afraid that if you tell her, she’ll pick him over you.

Well, you’ve got to look past that. You can’t change what happened, but you can’t deny it either, and you’re not going to find any peace until you tell your mom the whole truth. She probably won’t handle it well, but that’s not what’s important. What’s important is that you unburden yourself. This is for you, not her. You deserve to move past this.

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.

Dear Coquette,

My best friend and I are both single after bad relationships; while my boyfriend was emotionally abusive, they broke up when her ex punched her in the face.

We made a joke of being slutty as possible this summer to spite our exes or something else that was logical after a couple drinks.

Unfortunately, I think she’s taking it too far.

She’s proceeded to morph into a drunken mess; she’ll get wasted and throw herself at anything with a penis. She’ll also be verbally abusive to our closest friends, and there’s been several nights where she just breaks down crying over her ex. When she’s sobered up, she acts like nothing happened.

She also keeps mocking me for keeping regular fuck buddies instead of sleeping with a new random every weekend like she does.

I’m worried about her, not just because this is self-destructive, but because she’s getting a bad reputation amongst our friends. Most have come to me and expressed a growing dislike for her and how if she keeps this up, no one is going to want to hang out with her anymore.

Everyone I’ve talked to about this has said I have to let her hit rock bottom but I don’t want that to happen. So what do I do to knock some sense into her?

Please ignore the idiots telling you to let your best friend hit rock bottom. That’s terrible advice. Rock bottom is for hardcore addicts unreachable by any other means, and your best friend isn’t an addict. Not yet, anyway. 

At the moment, she’s just a hot mess with a fresh drinking problem. She’s in a tremendous amount of emotional pain, and she has no method of coping other than numbing herself with alcohol.

The whoring around isn’t coming from a healthy place either. There’s nothing wrong with a wild summer of no strings sex, but she’s trying to fuck the pain away, and that never works for more than a few minutes.

As her best friend, it’s time to help her address her underlying pain. She’s coming out of an abusive relationship, and she needs to start processing her emotions sober. This isn’t about stopping her from drinking, nor is it about slut shaming. The booze and boys aren’t the problem. They’re just symptoms.

Knocking some sense into her will require daytime heart-to-heart conversations about her behavior where she doesn’t feel cornered or judged. That can be tough. You have to come from a place of love and concern. You have to let her know that it’s not what she’s doing that’s the problem, it’s why she’s doing it.

She’s not drinking to celebrate. She’s drinking to annihilate. She’s not having sex to explore. She’s having sex to escape. If she’s ready to start dealing with her emotional pain in a healthier way, she will have to recognize the difference and consciously choose not to numb herself.

This stuff isn’t easy. It requires a high degree of emotional maturity on both of your parts. You’ll need to bring all of your patience and nonjudgment to the table, and she’ll need to bring all of her self-control and self-respect. 

I hope she’s ready to hear you.

Dear Coquette,

I’ve been with my boyfriend for almost a year. He’s 29, and I’m 22. We don’t fight much, the sex is mind blowing, and we have fun together.

But, to be honest, I don’t really enjoy talking to him. He’s not my best friend. I can talk to him about anything, but it’s sometimes like talking to a brick wall.

But for some reason, the sex is seriously the best I’ve ever had. I’ve never been with anyone who can make me orgasm. And the chemistry is phenomenal.

Sex with him has always been perfect. It’s so good that I worry that I’ve overlooked other things that bug me in our relationship.

I want to break up with him because I know I’m not with someone who fulfills me in every way, but I’m worried I won’t find anybody else that sexually pleases me so much. What do I do?

The short answer? Grow up.  

Unfortunately, you’re a bubbly 22, and it’s just not fair to expect that of you quite yet. That’s OK. You’re not supposed to realize how annoying you are for a few more years.  

Yes, you are annoying. The things you talk about are often trite and uninteresting. That’s why your boyfriend turns into a brick wall. It’s a defense mechanism to shut out your incessant yapping. That sounds harsh, I know, but the dude is the better part of a decade older than you. He has things on his mind besides rainbows and unicorns.

Not that it matters, because you’re gonna break up with him anyway. This relationship is all but over, and that’s okay too. Neither of you were really taking it all that seriously, and you both will be over it in a few weeks. (Don’t worry, you’ll be having orgasms with other people in no time.) I just hope that in breaking up with him, you don’t establish a pattern of giving up on relationships because you’re not with someone who fulfills you in every way. That’s a dangerous precedent to set. 

Feel free to go through men like Kleenex in your early 20s, but don’t abandon relationships for not meeting an unrealistic ideal. It’s incredibly naive to expect romantic perfection, kiddo. That’s a bad habit, and being young is no excuse.  

No one will ever be perfect. You need to develop some patience and learn how to work on aspects of your relationships that bug you. Otherwise, when the time comes that you find someone worth taking seriously, you won’t have the skills necessary to make it work.

Dear Coquette,

Three years ago, I met a great girl with whom I’ve been in a relationship ever since.

1. She’s a pageant girl. A serious, Miss-America-contestant pageant girl.

2: We’re both women.

3: Our state is quite conservative, and though she’s never lied about her sexual orientation, she’s been strongly advised to “keep it under wraps.” I’ve been the “best friend” supporting her, even though I would love to be the girlfriend. (I’ve been advised to “lipstick up” when I’m with her, so that no one will suspect.)

In her third year of competing to be Miss ___ (I’ll keep it blank for discretion, just fill in your favorite state in the Bible Belt) she missed the crown, yet again. She’s got one more year before she ages out, and she plans on competing again. Now, I’m no fan of pageants, but I love her, support her, and although Miss America will never be my dream, it is hers. I just don’t know if I can stay in the closet for one more year, all for an organization that I feel is backwards and demeaning and has treated the person I love so poorly. 

We’ve talked about this, but she can’t seem to separate my disdain for the pageant from my support of her goals. Coquette, do I stay with a woman who is putting our relationship on hold for a crown? Or do I refuse to closet myself, and stand out and proud with or without my partner? Give it to me straight, no pun intended. 

Are you kidding me? Buy a video camera and start shooting immediately. Better yet, find the closest thing you’ve got to an Errol Morris in your hometown and start professionally filming your stories. This is fascinating stuff. 

You’ve got all the makings of a socially relevant yet intensely personal documentary here, and the questions you’re asking are a perfect jumping-off point for its narrative. Ultimately, they are ones you can only answer for yourself, but as you do, you and your partner can explore the pressures and prejudices you both face as young lesbians in the American Bible Belt, and of course, the pageant world makes for a rich and ridiculous backdrop.

This should be an easy sell to your girlfriend. Crown or no crown, this is about her pageant legacy, and through a project like this, she would have a unique opportunity to do something poignant in her final year of competition.

The documentary needn’t be exploitative or sensational. Do it right, and it’ll be an examination of the clash between protofeminist and postfeminist values within the inherently heightened circumstances of a beauty pageant. More than that, though, you and your partner will get to dig deep and come to terms with how you’ve chosen to publicly express your sexuality, and how that’s affected your relationship.

I genuinely hope you do this, and I also hope you take your time with it. It’s a noble pursuit that not only justifies staying in the closet for one more year, but turns your moral dilemma into a creative endeavor.

Dear Coquette,

My new guy still has dreams about his ex. I’m not sure what to think about this. Is he still hung up on her? We’ve been dating a month. They lived together for several years and had a year of breaking up and getting back together, which ended about two months ago.

Sweetheart, not only is he still hung up on his ex, but guess what? You are the rebound.

It’s no one’s fault, really. It’s just a timing thing. He’s fresh out of a long-term live-in relationship, so unless he’s a serial relationship junkie, don’t expect much in the way of commitment.

That doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy yourself. Keep dating him if you want. Have fun, but for your own sake, don’t get too emotionally invested. Odds are, you’re not gonna make it to girlfriend status with this one.

I have a terrible reputation due to my general bad behavior. For a while I decided to run with it, but it is getting to the point where I have zero credibility and others can willfully do mean-spirited things to me with no repercussions. This abuse has extended from normal girls in my sorority all the way up to the girls in charge, who have done things like search my room and make me move mid-semester just because they could. Hatred and ostracism have reached a fever pitch, and I feel like my life is crumbling. How do I change my reputation? Is this one of those things that I will have to ride out, or will it ever get better? I’ve cleaned up my behavior drastically in the last semester, but no one seemed to notice. I am dreading returning in the fall to the same treatment I received last spring. Help me, Coquette. I’m a mess.

Hatred and ostracism have reached a fever pitch? Don’t be such a drama queen. You’re not a mess. Your life isn’t crumbling. You’re just dizzy because you think the world keeps revolving around you.

Listen, kid. The world is full of shallow, self-centered sorority girls who think they have a reputation, when in fact, they’re all just living at the center of a tiny college-girl bubble fueled by estrogen and Adderall. You do not have a reputation, terrible or otherwise. You are not special. No one cares.

When you get back to school in the fall, treat people with kindness and respect. Do not be petty. Do not be mean. Go volunteer at a homeless shelter, and practice not saying the word “I” in every sentence. In other words, grow up. You’ll be fine. I promise.

He was a douchebag who wasn’t good enough for me, and I don’t want to be with him, but why do I still care so much about him?

Because you don’t actually believe that he’s not good enough for you.