Tag Archives: emotional sex

How do you avoid ‘catching feelings’?

A friend of mine recently asked, as I was telling her how lovely a particular guy was, how I went about trying to avoid ‘catching feelings’ for the men that I spend time with. There are two answers to this question: the cunty one and the nice one. Both are true.


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Guest blog: Sex and grief

This week’s guest blogger – @19syllables – is best known for writing gorgeous haikus over on Twitter, and I think I first came across her long form writing with a beautiful piece about sex and anticipation and unrequited lust in SexBlogOfSorts’ writing competition. Her guest blog this week tackles something powerful and intense and moving – sex and grief.

When I read it, I cried. And I don’t really have the words to express how touched I am that she’s decided to share it here.


Two things: A gorgeous personal story and a bad rant on marriage

Very quick ‘two things’ update this week. An amazing piece of writing on intimacy, followed by a weird rant in the Guardian about marriage. Click, read, comment etc – and if you do spot things that you think I should be featuring in my Monday posts, then please do recommend stuff in the comments.


My other half

I’ve always hated the phrase ‘my other half’ – it implies a lack of completeness about me. That I, on my own, am never quite full or rounded. Not quite enough.

I hate ‘him indoors,’ which implies the kind of comfortable, settled domesticity that I’ve never really felt with anyone.

I’m ambivalent about ‘boyfriend’ and ‘partner’ feels too grown up.

I panic at the thought of a ‘husband.’

‘Boy’ is becoming tired, and not a natural descriptor for someone in their 30s.

Says ‘girl’ on the net. At the age of 30.

‘Mate’ is either too pally or too like an Attenborough documentary, depending on how you interpret it.

‘Lover’ makes me cringe.

Some days he’s my guy, my dude. That dickhead. And often he’s a twat.

But maybe my obsession with the lack of a proper word belies what the actual problem is with any of these statements: the ‘my’ that comes at the front of them.

No one is ever mine, of course.


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Guest blog: Sex with an ex

Some writing makes me horny, and some writing makes me cry. Some brings me to a weird horny-sad place where the only appropriate thing to do is curl into a ball of lustful anguish and imagine all those times I’ve felt the same.

This week’s guest blog does just that. I won’t give it a long build-up and intro because, to be honest, it speaks for itself. This week, Leo is going to tell you about sex with an ex.