Page 39 of Let's Kiss and Tell

“I mean, it’s not hard to fall down the rabbit hole,” I respond. “Especially when you’re making money.”

“Do you think that’s what happened?”

“I’m sure. Think about cam girls. It probably starts as one photo, it gets attention, and then you just keep pushing your luck. The majority of men are stupid and will pay for dumb shit like that.”

“In a world full of free porn, it always does surprise me what men pay to see another woman,” Marsh says.

“There’s something that feels dominant about knowing you’re the only person that photo or video is for.”

“How do you know so much about this?”

“I used to sell feet pics,” I say.

Marsh starts coughing on his French toast. “Wait, really?”

“Mhm.” I cut our matcha bun in half. “After graduating. Let me tell you, I never showed my face once and made enough to pay for like thirty percent of my tuition.”

Marsh leans back, cocking his head. “Why do you like writing about sex?”

There’s something about his tone that oddly brings me solace. I’m used to men desperately trying to sound cool with my job, which results in weird questions likeSo I’m sure you’ve seen all kinds of labias?

But Marsh talks about my job like it’s completely normal. Like sex is nothing other than a topic I’m choosing to write about, just like politics, and equally important.

“Well, because I find sex to be empowering.” I start answeringthe question the same way I have been for the past seven years. “There’s something powerful about creating a safe space for women. Giving women a platform to feel like themselves, and free, and that whatever kink turns them on is normal. Creating a community for women so they know they’re not alone.”

Marsh nods. “What’s the real reason?”

My face drops. “Excuse me?”

“Not that I don’t believe what you said. I absolutely agree with it too. I think what you do and what you’ve created is something that I wish I had,” he says. “But as someone who knows what you go through day in and day out for a story, I want to know why you choose to write about sex.”

Wanting to write about sex was always enough of a reason. Nobody’s ever wanted to really knowwhy.

“I grew up wanting to tell stories,” I start. “There was that opening for my college paper and I thought,What would be a topic that would really turn heads?So, I decided to write about sex. I was never an expert on it. I had only slept with one person at the time, and I didn’t even have an orgasm. But when the article took off, I knew I had the momentum. I figured writing about a taboo subject like this was straightforward enough to keep people reading. Then I saw the reactions to my stories, how they’ve helped people. I didn’t just empower readers,Ifelt empowered. I became more open about my sexuality, more confident in talking about what I want and don’t want. Sexuality is so much more than how we connect to another person. It’s how we connect to ourselves.”

“Touché.” Marsh smiles and I force myself to do the same.

Maybe it’s not the entire truth, but it’s still an honest answer.

“So, if you could work atThe Ruefor the next ten years, granted you’re given a promotion, you’d be happy?”

“If I was appropriately compensated, then yeah,” I respond.“I’m proud to be writing about sex. I just want other people to take it seriously,” I say quietly, because he’s already doing it. Marsh has that recognition and respect and there’s something humbling about admitting it.

“If you take it seriously, other people will,” he says.

“Easy for you to say.”

“You’re already writing what you want…and at one of the most reputable publications in the world,” he simply says. He’s not trying to be condescending, but it’s so clear that he’s lived his life and career with that mindset: that he can do whatever he wants because he’s confident in himself in a way that maybe I’m not.

“I thinkThe Journalis one of the most reputable publications,” I correct him. “The Rueis a little more niche.”

“Would you want to work atThe Journal?” he asks.

“I’m not opposed to it.” I muse about the type of stories I’d be writing and also giving up. I’d be willing to if it meant a better title and better pay. “If there’s an open job, I’d apply. But the market’s been so tough, I don’t think they hired anyone in the past year other than you.”

Marsh scratches the side of his jaw, understanding. “I think I was an exception. There was an opening and I knew Nadia.”

“That’s how it always works, isn’t it?”