![]() "Z, you can never have sex with boys until you've got them LOCKED in. I MIGHT give him a blowjob, but I'm not going to f*ck him," she would say to herself, repeating it like some sort of yoga mantra. "No matter what happens tonight, I'm not going to have sex with him. She would pile on loads of mascara, spray her entire body down with Jean Paul Gaultier fragrance (the coolest fragrance in the late '90s) and pout at her reflection. I would sit on her pretty pink bedspread mesmerized as I watched her get ready for dates in complete fascination. "The trick to getting a MAN is to be entirely unavailable," my older sister, Audra, would tell me. ![]() ![]() They broke fragile boy hearts all the time, recklessly played with boy feelings and always made sure they were just out of reach of boy. They were the kind of girls who could bring men to their knees with one bitchy smirk and bat of the lash. I grew up in a collective of man slayers. I have a lot of older, very pretty sisters and a gorgeous, blonde-haired, ex-supermodel mother. I was at that age when I needed incessant boy validation to feel pretty (I still enjoy it, even though straight men are entirely irrelevant creatures in my life). ![]() "I don't do things like that!" I would prudishly show off to all the skater boys I sat with at lunch.Įven though I was a closet lesbian, I still wanted all of them to want me. In high school, I vowed to never have a one-night stand. ![]()
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