In January 2014, I walked into the Alligator office for its open house. I was a sophomore at the time, and I went straight to the then-opinions editor with, "I’d like to write a sex column."
Her "yes," cheesy as it sounds, was life-changing.
I have written this column for almost two years now, which has allowed me to have a pretty… "unique" college experience. For that, I want to thank you, the readers.
Sex and sexuality, more so than many other topics, are incredibly intimate. To write about them, to really do them justice, you have to get personal.
This sometimes proved uncomfortable, but it has mostly been rewarding. Writing this column gave me the opportunity to have a personal rapport with readers that would’ve been impossible to establish with other subjects.
I started writing this column because I wanted to talk about sex, but it has become so much more than that. I hope I have challenged some of you to think about sex and sexuality differently.
As big a fan as I am of the controversial, my desire to write this column stemmed from more than just that. Sex is interesting and fun, sure, but it’s incredibly important — and, all too often, it is one of those things we talk about the least.
So, I set out to start a discussion about the taboo.
Judging by how many people have commented on my work — including positive and negative remarks — my writing has, at the very least, sparked a conversation or two.
Some of those conversations have not been pretty. Because of sexuality’s taboo nature, some people still feel uncomfortable reading about sex, especially in their own "college" newspaper.
My favorite comment I’ve ever received on one of my columns asked: "Can you write about anything other than sex or does your life consist solely of getting plowed?"
Of course not. I take timeouts to eat, sleep and write this column.
I hope what I have gotten across is that sex is incredibly multi-faceted; it demands and deserves conversation in our society.
Sex is not just about watching Netflix and chilling. It’s not just one-night stands and jacking off and #ButtStuff2k15.
It IS all of those things, but it is also more: It’s reproductive rights. It’s using contraception and having safer sex. It’s consent. It’s gaining the confidence and courage to ask for what you want sexually.
Sex isn’t just the fun stuff, it’s also the serious stuff. My hope with this column was to influence a change, however small, in society’s outlook on sexuality.
And change can indeed be small: I once met a guy at a party who thanked me for writing this column because it encouraged him to buy lube and a vibrator, and he’s been "killing the game" ever since.
Change can also be big, such as encouraging 50,000 readers to talk openly about their sexualities and, all things willing, convincing them to take their sexual health and desires into their own hands.
I hope within the past two years I have changed the way at least a few of you think about sex.
So, think of this piece as the profanity-riddled, leg-shake-inducing finish to an entirely satisfactory sexual experience. Because even the best things in life — sex, this column, naps, your drink — have to end eventually.
I hope I haven’t been a selfish partner and some of you will have left this column satisfied by the time I’ve finished.
Thanks for reading; it’s been a pleasure — pun intended.
Robyn Smith is a UF journalism senior. Her column appears on Fridays.
