For the first time since high school, a professor has asked my class to not use the bathroom. She claims its too distracting. The standing up, sitting back down, opening the door, closing it again, walking through the aisle. All of this would hinder learning, so she says. What’s really distracting to me is having to pee all throughout class and having to hold it in.

Sex- its a topic we all usually come to discuss once in our lives. Whether we are thinking about it, having it, or staying away from it, sex happens. Historically, sex has been LGBTQ+ inclusive as there were not major laws or restrictions in place to prevent those of the same sex or gender from being together. However, things were much more discriminatory in terms of race or social class. In the early 19th and 20th centuries, sex became a sinful topic to discuss in the United States. You were immoral if you had sex outside of marriage or for nonprocreative purposes. Sex ceases to be intersectional, for the majority of the States.

In the 21st century, sex is widely discussed and accepted. People are not afraid to shy away from the topic, and they proudly accepted who they are. Not that this is the case for everyone, but for many people. The importance of today’s topics of sex is the core idea of intersectionality- that we make sex accessible to everyone, regardless of gender, sex, race, orientation, or ability. I chose to discuss this topic, as I discovered one of my new favorite websites that promotes sexual health and wellness, with safety and inclusivity in mind. The site is called Spectrum Boutique, and they provide sex toys and forums for people of all types with no judgement. The reason I love this site is because they do not just make the standard penis and vagina toys for cisgendered straight people- no, they make every single item you could imagine under the sun. They make items that are straight, curved, twisted, move, pop, sparkle, and glow in the dark. There are no standards, no gender labels, and no rules. They describe items as being best for people with x, y, or z sex organ, but they do not label as “for men” or “for women”. They have amazing blogs where you can explore various topics, sex related or not. My favorite part is that they also have items for people with disabilities. People seem to forget that people with disabilities are still sexual beings, who have sex. This website allows for people to find things that can assist them in making sex more enjoyable.

Our bodies are all made differently, and they all enjoy different things. Spectrum Boutique allows for the freedom to find something you’ll love, regardless of who you are or how you’re shaped. Sex is not taboo, it is a part of life.

It was an average day, nothing exceptional had occurred…yet. As I left work at around 7:30 pm I headed to the elevator to take me to my car on the 5th-floor parking lot. These elevators weren’t the most modern or even trustworthy, but 5 flights of stairs did not sound appealing to me. I hopped in while looking on my phone, I was the only one inside so didn’t even really bother looking up. I pressed my level 5 and refreshed my Instagram feed, but then the lights started to flicker. A flicker soon turned into back, and the whole elevator came to a halt. No floor sign, no lights, and pressing the buttons did nothing. For a second I count believe it, this had never happened to me. Alone in the small square, my anxiety shot up immediately.

I turned my flashlight up to try and call the emergency hotline, after a few loud beeps, and a ringing telephone, I was connected to a man in a call center. He asked what my emerges was and I told him, he asked if I needed immediate medical attention or had a disability and I responded, he asked if I needed anything before he contacted someone to come get me out, and I said “Just please hurry, I’m in here all alone and scared”. He assured me he would call me back in ten minutes. At that moment, that felt like forever.
I sat down, the elevator continued to move, shake and change floors. I imagined it would just drop and I would die like in a movie.

The service was spotty, but I called my sister who always answers. She could barely make out what I was saying, but I told her I loved her and I would call her back as soon as I was out. It sounds dramatic but I didn’t know what was going to happen. With each bump, move, and flicker I got more and more afraid. This elevator I used countless times a week, and with people, had never felt so small. It was as if all my anxiety and anguish filled the square, and there was no room for anything else. I found it hard to breathe, which was just me being crazy, the air quality was fine.

I sat there, alone, in the dark for 13 minutes. Waiting for someone to rescue me, or for a light to turn back on and I could go about my day again. Even though the space felt so filled and I was busting at the seams, I also recognized how little I was in that corner. I was helpless and had no control over anything in that space, except making sure didn’t go ballistic.

After a few bumps, I could finally hear people outside, and very quickly the lights turned on and the door opened. A few businessmen were waiting outside, getting ready to get on. I was huddled in the corner looking very disheveled. I shot up without saying anything and stormed past them. “I wouldn’t use that” was all I dared to muddle to them. I climbed a few flights and went to my car to cry and unload the fear that was inside me.

The next day, I took the stairs, and I have every day after. On the bright side, my legs are looking quite good.

*This is MY take on Grind Culture. Completely just opinions I have formulated through watching a lot of my friends fall into “grinding”. This take DOES NOT apply to everyone.

“Grinding” is the idea of working really hard and pushing yourself either to your limits or way past them, in order to make more money or achieve a goal such as getting schoolwork done. It is common to hear “I’m on my grind” from college students or young adults that are consistently overworking themselves. These people are under the impression that this grind is benefitting them, I mean they’re getting their work knocked out, or they are getting a lot of money… But at what cost? Grinding implies that these people are often running off little sleep, lots of caffeine, not much food and absolutely no rest. This society has drilled into our brains that if we are doing anything that is not seen as productive i.e., making you money or getting you a degree, you are wasting your time.

I cannot wait until I get to the point where I am not thinking about my body so much. I frequently enough think about how it looks in clothing, without clothing, around other people, how it fits in spaces, and even how it moves.

I love fashion and streetwear, and you know nowadays you can’t be on social media without seeing all the different styles and outfits people be rocking. I’m trying to get like that so bad. Not to be like other people, but to be able to wear the clothes that I think are tuff and to authentically express myself in the clothes and styling of my choosing. It really sucks that my options are very limited as not only a plus-size person but a plus-size female who wears and wants to rock men’s clothing. I can’t count on my hands the number of times I’ve seen some tuff clothes that I want and have the money to buy, but they didn’t sell it in my size. I just don’t have enough fingers. This dilemma has been one of the highlights of my life. I’m left with the options of either loosing weight, waiting on the clothing industry to up the sizes, or make my own clothes tailored to me. I want to lose weight regardless, but I shouldn’t have to to wear the clothes I want. They should be more accommodating of differently sized bodies.

When it comes to thinking about my body, sometimes it’s a question of am I just overthinking. In some cases, maybe, but in others, I am forced to. Like when going out to a restaurant with people and we are sitting in a booth, it’s how much additional space am I taking up compared to the others. Can we all fit? Sometimes there has to be an arrangement of smaller bodies sitting with bigger bodies for it to work. When choosing where to sit in the commons, it can never be those silver metal chairs because they are too constricting, and my ass and thighs won’t fit. When I’m going somewhere with my friends in a car and 3 people have to be in the back, I’m probably going to have to sit up front so there is more space available in the back. I guess these things can’t be helped because that’s just the way body and space work, but it sucks. If there is one thing on this campus that I really really strongly and heavily dislike, is a hill/incline. Not only do I be tired as shit going up them hills trying to catch my breath, but the part of walking on a hill that is supposed to be less taxing, even requires some work sometimes. When I’m walking up a hill, one thing that keeps me going is the fact that it won’t be as hard walking down. Those hills with the steep inclines/declines can really kick rocks. If any of y’all live on campus and know that hill that starts in lot 8 by the library and goes all the way up to the apartment community center, y’all can visualize what I’m talking about. I don’t know about y’all body, but when I’m going down that hill, my body is having a full-on fight with gravity. I really have to try to control my body on trying to pace the hill and not go down too fast. This is one of the times I feel the most disconnected from my body because gravity, momentum, and the decline have more influence over my body than my mind does.

Somedays it feels like sickness. Bill if I’m gonna write you another letter I’ll never send I think I should get a grade for it.

Two summers ago you would have too much and yell at me with this big smile on your face. I’d get to laugh, shake my head and tell our friends I knew you’d love me, I knew we’d be the best of friends. And I was right. That autumn our friends went back to school but our classes were still online. We slowed down drinking and got real close. I loved how you listened to people, you’d get real quiet and nod your head when someone spoke. When I brought new friends over, you and I would listen to them all night long. I was just mimicking you, trying to listen like you, but when my friends left you’d tell me they were geniuses. The same way you think everyone’s a genius for something. I would drive home after a night out, curl into bed and text my partner to tell them I loved them, and then I’d text you to say thanks for listening. I told you once, that you reminded me of a science teacher we’d had way back when, who really saw people.

Is it cliche for me to say that I’m an old soul? One thing I always wish is that I lived in the 80s or 90s. Besides the crack epidemic and the extensivity of racism at the time, the generational time period was what I had an interest in. Even though I enjoy the time I live and am thankful for the improvements since that time, sometimes  I feel like the culture of the 80s and 90s is not replicable. It was the beginning and the foundation of the African-American culture we see today. That was when rap was born, rhythm and blues were born, and fashion was born. Of course Lil Baby makes good music, but he can never compare to the hip hop artists from back in the day like Biggie, Snoop Dogg, and Tupac. Their music has a different vibe, it gives me a feeling that I cannot feel while listening to Summer Walker, Nicki Minaj, or Ariana Grande. Rhythm and Blues from the 70s and 80s hits even more different. I feel like I’m in another dimension when I listen to songs like Strawberry Letter 23 by the Brothers Johnson, or Footsteps in the Dark by the Isley Brothers. They give me such a serene and eccentric feeling. I feel that maybe the reason why I tend to favor the older versions of these genres rather than newer ones is that back then it was just starting, and it was original. Music now is not bad, but it has been reinventing and recycling itself for decades and decades. I remember when the black 90s sitcom Moesha came out on Netlfix during quarantine. I watched all six seasons in less than a week. it wasn’t even just the excitement of the plot that kept my attention, but the fantasy of being a teenager in the 90s. I was obsessed with the idea and the music I heard, the fashion I saw, and the all-around atmosphere of the show. The tales and stories I hear and read and watch make me envious of 90s teenagers, and make me wonder how my life would be if I grew up in that time. However, I am always glad to have been born in the era I was born in. I just wish I could’ve experienced the 80s and 90s.