Haters gonna hate; Sex and the SUNY writer unapologetic

In an undisclosed location, four students are discussing possible Sex and the SUNY  topics.

Road head is brought up, which leads to a few stories being traded back and forth. Suddenly, a puzzled adult appears. Road head stories? In the school newspaper? And that's when the adult says something familiar.

"You know, people are going to read that."

I know, and I hope they do. I hear this a lot and, frankly, it's starting to get annoying.

Yes, this will be attached to my name for the rest of my life. Yes, my parents know about my writing and they're OK with it. Not because they're a bunch of free lovin', free wheelin' hippies, but because they know that sex can be healthy, normal and fun. There's no shame in it.

I've been writing since I learned how to form letters. A big part of being a writer, at least to me, is not just the cathartic need to put pen to paper, but also the need for someone to read what you write. The need to get those ideas out there, get people thinking and to keep them entertained. I also love to write about things that I love.

One of those things happens to be sex.

This is the speech I will recite, shall I find myself in front of an employer who decided to read the pieces I've written for this column.

Then I'll explain how my piece about shower sex isn't just some raunchy college sex tale, but a beautiful piece about triumphing over adversity. It's about how one motivated young woman overcame her terrible sense of balance and a plethora of slippery tiling to check a goal off her bucket list. I mean, who doesn't love an underdog story?

But in all actuality, I know the employer will probably judge me. Just like the random person who scanned one of my columns and discarded it as some slut trying to get attention. Just like the few kids and certain family members who wrote me off as a prude-slash-lesbian in high school because I wasn't having sex with anyone, when honestly, I was neither. I just thought none of the redneck, neanderthals who roamed the halls of my high school were worthy of my vagina.

I hope to live in a world one day where people are not judged based on the sex they may or may not be having. That one day we'll be OK enough with sex that the Motion Picture Association of America will stop giving movies with multiple implied rape scenes a simple PG-13 (such as the absolutely horrendous "Sucker Punch"), while a movie featuring consensual oral sex gets slapped with NC-17 (like "Blue Valentine").

Maybe in such a liberated society, politicians won't have to be tapping away in bathrooms trying to get some same-sex action because they're so ashamed of their true desire.

Maybe in that world, I won't be judged by someone for writing about doing the dirty in the dorm shower.

But until that day, judge away because I honestly don't give a f---.