![]() ![]() ![]() I’ve always been of the mind that whenever I leave the house who knows what could transpire, and I’ve always wanted to be prepared. Maybe they thought it wasn’t my place to carry them, or that carrying them cemented that casual sex was actually a part of my life and not just something that spontaneously happened ever so often. At first it didn’t occur to me that there was some sort of stigma to it. People always found it a bit audacious that I carried condoms with me. Condoms were a necessity for my lifestyle! I would not be on birth control until my early twenties, and using condoms made me feel secure in my choice to have multiple partners. I knew my behaviour was probably frowned upon, but I was having fun and I would not allow for any consequences to derail the freedom and mischief I was having. I would hop around from one older boy’s house to another older boy’s house. I rode around the city on a bicycle liberated from the garage of a bike thief. I was on the cusp of turning seventeen and I was wild and gregarious. ![]() ![]() Not only was I having sex, but I was confident about how in control I was. There was something mischievous about this display-I wasn’t embarrassed. I laughed as I bent down to pick them up. I have a distinct memory of being a teenager crossing a major intersection and reaching into my handbag only to have a strip of condoms fall out in front of the stalled cars. By Marlowe Granados, Advice Columnist and Author of Happy Hour ![]()
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