Real talk: I am a prude (unless the moment’s right).
I’m not saying this in an attempt to be all “look at me, I’m going to be HONEST about my FEELINGS and let me write you a memoir with fuzzily recalled anecdotes explaining exactly why this is the case,” I’m saying this as a way to point out that maybe the badasser-than-thou poses put on by certain writers who are trying to Real Talk Their Way Into Women’s Hearts are a little backfiery. Because inherent in so much confessional writing about indulging in vices, especially now, is a knowledge that being up front about all the “crazy” stuff one has done is really good for business, really good to get people clicking and commenting and (I know, I’m guilty) cluck-clucking. But it might be alienating to those people outside the bubble, or who are kind of trying to figure out why they’re reticent and unwilling to throw themselves into “experiences” that are regrettable but at least in retrospect provide titillating enough copy to bring in pageviews.
Again, I just have to ask, must we all pee on sticks on camera to be heard? Do we have to have run ourselves through a particular gauntlet in order for our opinions to count? I’d like to think that my experiences say otherwise, but what do I know.