1.    I am a 41-year-old cisgender female. At various times, I’ve identified as straight, lesbian, bisexual and asexual, but always heteroromantic and, most recently, as demiromantic.

2.    I masturbate almost daily, usually to audio of guys getting themselves off or to pictures of guys with chest and body hair.

3.    When looking for pictures of men to get me off, it’s always to regular guys who submit their own pictures to sites online – no porn stars, no models. I’m more turned on by bear types with salt-and-pepper hair. I like looking at Adonises in their 20s, but they’re not the ones about whom I fantasize.

4.    Okay, no porn stars except for Manuel Ferrara and James Deen. It’s not their bodies, either. It’s their enthusiasm for the girls they’re with and all the kissing. I got off on a scene that could easily have turned creepy and violent in the hands of another actor because Deen was looking the girl in the eye and whispering in her ear. He looked like he wanted to get off but he also looked like he wanted her to get off.

5.    At this age, I have never felt more confident in and willing to explore my sexuality. At the same time, I have never felt less desirable. The men around me always have younger, more beautiful choices. As I got closer to 40, the tone of the male gaze definitely changed. I am treated in a more maternal manner. In addition, I live in Southern California, where there are always younger, more beautiful choices. I think more and more often that I may have to permanently put away the sex and relationship part of my life. Sometimes I think I deserve it for the way I’ve behaved in the past.

6.    When I was 10, my dad told me that I was fat. He never apologized or insulted me again. He didn’t compliment me. It was the one time he turned to notice me and that’s what came out. I was shocked at the matter-of-fact way in which he communicated that my worth was in my looks, not in being smart or confident or musically talented or eager to learn more in school, all of which I was at that age. The intent behind the insult is what I remember when I look in the mirror.

7.    I was molested when I was 5 and 6 by a teenaged male cousin who lived with us. He would sit me on his lap and reach between my legs. I didn’t know what was going on but it made me uncomfortable. I had no one to tell. My dad was an abusive alcoholic and this piece of crap was his favorite nephew. My mother was clinically depressed.  They fought constantly and I felt that I wanted to protect them from more pain. I never told anyone. My biggest regret is that, in remaining silent, he probably went on to molest other little girls, maybe even his own daughter.

8.    Beauty and desire, Part 1: There’s been only one time that I felt absolutely beautiful. I had just walked out of a salon and my hair was looking good, child. I was wearing a t-shirt and jeans on a warm, sunny day and I was happy. I don’t remember what he said. Maybe it was just an exclamation. I turned to see who had spoken and I saw a normal, decent-seeming, everyday guy standing by his open car door. He looked at me as if I was an especially delicious cheeseburger...

9.    I have had one LTR. It was with a man. It lasted for 6 years. I have had 3 other male sex partners and one female sex partner.

10.    It’s been about 5 years since I last had sex. I’ve been clinically depressed for all of the years since. The depression came first.

11.    My favorite sex partner was a guy at work. We had sex on a balcony of the building at night, in his boss’ office and in the parking garage, among other places. He was a really fun person, enthusiastic about sex, enthusiastic about seeing me and a great kisser.

12.    I like men who are my age. You guys get mellower and funnier. Kinder, too. You seem to become more introspective and thoughtful. I like that. See also: salt-and-pepper hair.

13.    I want to be adored during sex. I would like for you to make me feel like you think I’m beautiful.

14.    I’ve never used sex as a bargaining chip and I never will. You deserve to be adored, too, even when we’re mad at each other.

15.    I stopped seeking relationships when I realized that all I did was cheat. I cheated on my boyfriend with the guy at work who cheated on his then-girlfriend to be with me. I slept with a married man and the third guy cheated on his girl, too. The woman was separated from her wife. It’s a shameful thing to only have cheating relationships. For what it’s worth, I figured out that I was trying to recreate the emotional turmoil that I thought I hated in my childhood home.

16.    Beauty and desire, Part 2: He looked at me as if I was an especially delicious cheeseburger. He seemed hungry enough to betray his want but disciplined enough to just admire it. He had a look of wonder on his face that I will never forget. For the only time in my life, I did the thing where I looked at him, looked down, smiled and looked back at him. I couldn’t help it. It just happens, I guess. Then I kept walking. I wish you all the same feeling of lightness and well-being that I felt that day.

17.    If I could go back in time and talk to myself in my 20s, I’d tell myself to get out there and start having all the sex. I’d point out that that I was not fat, that it would be, indeed, the best I’d ever look, and that making mistakes and having my heart broken would be worth it. Trying to live up to someone else’s standards of religious virtue or feminine modesty is not worth it. Not for me, anyway.

18.    I lived in San Francisco for a long time.  I did not identify as anything other than straight for the entire time I lived there and I did not have anything other than hetero sex. Stupid!

19.    As a teenager, I unintentionally presented as a butch girl. I should have embraced it.

20.    I’ve never performed a lap dance, but I’d love to try.

21.    Anal sex is okay. However, I loved doing it with my ex because he was really turned on by it. Seeing him that excited was exciting for me.

22.    My breasts are big. They’re real. They sag. Too bad. I’ve tried to feel better about them by checking out photos of similar-looking boobs on girls posted to body acceptance and sex-related blogs and websites. I don’t like them any more on other girls than I like them on me. I hate that I’m so critical and harsh with them and myself.

23.    I’d be mortified to be thought of as a MILF or a cougar. It makes me a predator. Those classifications also exclude me from the possibility of an age-appropriate relationship. It’s as if the only way to deal with a woman in her 40s who still wishes to be a sexual being is to imply that she must also be depraved in some way for not settling down into cronehood.

24.    I love drag queens. I’m 5’8” and I love to wear heels. I tower over my fellow tiny Mexicans. They try to make me feel that I’m not feminine when I choose to be so tall and so noticeable. The drag queen clawing her way out of me replies, “Eat it, eat it, eat it – ow!”

25.    I don’t know if it’s still done in Mexico but the most fun-sounding form of flirting comes from there. The guys use hilarious lines on girls called piropos. My favorite is, “¡Ay, tantas curvas y yo sin frenos!” or, “So many curves (on the girl’s body, obvs) and me without brakes!” The faux lament is just so funny to me. I’d talk to that guy!