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And admitting it was a drunk mistake is sure to end my time at the firm.
But can I really ask that of Daphne?
Chapter Twenty-Three
Daphne
With some things in life, the evidence is unclear. Usually, things like emotions are fuzzy. How does one person prove they were happy or sad?
With a few dozen photos, apparently.
They're all here on my phone. They're all over my social media. And, of course, my new adviser already saw them. She reached out to congratulate me personally. She even joked about it.
What a smart idea! Have the honeymoon before work kicks your ass. And the ring is good too. It's not fair, but people trust a married sex researcher more than a single one. They think you're in the job because of your own love and commitment.
When I was single, everyone acted like I was some sort of perverted freak.
What they don't know doesn't hurt them, huh?
Best,
Yukiko
She's probably right. A single person with an interest in sex is seen as desperate, slutty, perverted, or just plain strange.
A person in a relationship is seen as a good partner.
And a married woman?
Well, she's just sensible.
The patriarchy strikes again.
Ugh, I've been listening to too many of Cassie's rants. Not that she is somehow more of a feminist than I am. More, that she's a lot more interested in talking about sexism than I am. Sexism in media, especially.
If we're talking about sexism in medical research—why are most studies still done on men and assumed to have the same results on women—or diagnosing women's pain is more likely to be ignored, especially women of color's pain.
Well, she's happy to listen to my rants on those occasions. And our interests overlap in areas of sex. I come at it as a medical researcher. She comes at it as a bisexual songwriter.
Apparently, women are better kissers, and they're usually much better with digital and oral stimulation.
They have the equipment. They have more experience with it. They know sex doesn't start and end with a penis in a vagina. The freedom from penetration means they can focus on clitoral stimulation.
Most women need clitoral stimulation to orgasm. Eighty percent.
But then, if I'm telling myself statistics, I'm avoiding my real feelings. Statistics can't save me here.
I made my bed.
I need to get divorced in it.
That's the only logical conclusion. Right?
Or does it make sense to keep the ring on my finger, officially?
It will keep coworkers from asking me out. It will earn the respect of my boss, apparently.
But then it will also brand me as a liability. Married women of a reproductive age are seen as a ticking time bomb. At any moment, they are eight months away from maternity leave or even quitting their job to take care of their kids.
