"I received an email from my mother saying that she knows. She saw the interview and decided to sit on this knowledge until she could see it again, and then she decided to contact me. What tipped her off exactly, I don’t know. Maybe my mannerisms or my tendency to mumble or the few details that were mentioned. Whatever it was, it was clear to her. I’m sure that while she knows nothing about me personally, she can recognize my speaking habits.

And I’m not sure how I feel about this, my parents knowing. I haven’t spoken to them. I haven’t responded to her email. My father hasn’t said or written anything - I doubt he ever will. I’m stunned, but I’m not ashamed of what I do or what I’ve done. I feel exposed but I don’t feel apologetic. I should feel mortified, but I don’t. Instead, I feel like a very private part of my life has been exposed, like they’ve just caught me in the middle of some sex act. So I suppose I feel awkward. And because I have an especially curious mother who isn’t so clear on boundaries, I’m sure she’s combing the internet right now to identify every trace of my whorish self. She might be reading this right now.

And later in the day, I saw Gabriel, another blissfully pro-slut individual. He told me to take my clothes off, and this made me smile, which made him smile. While we undressed, I thought about how good this is, even if I have to battle my urge to shut down.

My mother wrote, “…I expect you feel you’ve thought this all through,” but nothing is thought through. I’m just thinking. And learning.

He fucked me over his sofa, the flat of his hand pressing down into my back. I felt him take my hair in his hand before he pulled out to come across my lower back, which splattered in a thick, swerving pattern. After, he took a snapshot of his come against my winter-pale skin. Once he toweled my back down and we both dressed, I took a look. It was a beautiful shot."