I’m Not Having Good Sex

I didn’t start having good sex until my early twenties. I lost my virginity at sixteen, complying with government legislation on the matter. I’d wrongly been led to believe that if I consensually did the sex before my sweet sixteenth, a police squad accompanied by a Channel 4 film crew would burst through my door. I’d be behind bars, watching myself star in the fictional documentary “Britain’s Teens: Young, Dumb and Full of Cum”, probably narrated by Dr Christian Jessen.

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I’ve Lost a Friendship

At primary school, friendships were easy. You befriended the person who sat next to you in registration. This secured your bond for the next seven years through the alphabetical order of the British schooling system. You slowly killed your Tamagotchis together. You traded Pokémon cards illicitly on the playground. You stole pick ‘n mix from Woolworths, thus ensuring the collapse of the franchise. Then, breasts, Twitter and iPhones happened. We’re not on the playground anymore, Dorothy.

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I Want to be Single

Once upon a time, a man turned to me after sex, looked deeply into my eyes and said, “Y’know Nikki, you should really get a boyfriend”. It was late, but I told him I’d see what I could forage from the dumpster in the morning. Prince Charming’s throwaway statement reveals so much about how we view sexually liberated, content, unattached women. I didn’t want to be this man’s girlfriend. I didn’t want to be any man’s girlfriend. I wanted to be single.

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