Pining after your FroCo? Dying to get on the orgy panlist? Sick of seeing khakis on men? You’re in luck! Welcome to Sex on the WKND, YDN’s anonymous column dedicated to answering your burning questions about sex, love and anything in between. Obsessing over sex is a Yale tradition as old as the Oldest College Daily itself. This year, we have a love-savvy columnist who has done it all — including everyone on the aforementioned orgy panlist — and is ready to share. Whether you have a seminar with a hookup-gone-wrong or accidentally sent a raunchy text to your chemistry study group, Sex on the WKND is ready to help. Don’t be shy. Submit your anonymous questions, stories, and tips here.

A few weeks ago, my therapist broke up with me, if that’s even something that can be legally done. Apparently, she no longer felt adequately prepared for my personal problems that were “near unsolvable” and recommended a few local fortune tellers and that girl in Silliman with tarot cards as a last resort. But before we called it quits, she taught me something that I shall now teach you: that it’s of the utmost importance to talk through your fears. In fact, simply speaking about one’s anxieties is proven to reduce their scariness dramatically. According to a 2017 Stanford study, when students wrote poetry about their fear of murderers, they had 10x higher chances of overcoming their anxiety and becoming murderers themselves! So, I thought: why not make this week’s article productive for once, and work through my own personal fears (although if I wake up tomorrow as a condom, I’m suing Stanford).

• People on Hinge Who Put Voice Memos on their Profiles. 

There’s not too much to say about this fear, except that nothing should be said on your profile. Ever. For those of you who are culprits: first, I’d suggest the Yale New Haven Psychiatric Hospital for a lobotomy, and second, an IV needle to extract the pure confidence coursing through your veins (and then a request to give me some). But yeah, your putting a voice behind “best vacation story” just makes your trip to Ibiza sound even lamer.

• Chlamydia. 

Honestly, a character building experience. But who really needs their character to be more built at this point? And yes, out of all the unwanted byproducts that sex can give you, Chlamydia is probably the best case scenario. But those sweet Yale Health nurses won’t ever look at you the same. Perhaps Chlamydia’s true scariness lies in the fact that it’s always lurking, just around the corner. Like, Chlamydia the Friendly Ghost? 

• And yet, Condoms. 

Okay this is a joke. Everyone practice safe sex! But they also look like clear ghosts when put upside down. Boo. 

• Post Nut Clarity.

What your professor won’t mention in your Directed Studies seminar is that the term “Post Nut Clarity” first appeared in the original copy of Plato’s Allegory of the Cave, when he describes those philosopher kings who finally make it out of their disillusionment. To quote exactly: “When people finally free themselves from their intellectual darkness, they will experience the same enlightenment and freedom that one experiences post-nut, you know, that sort of clarity. You know what I’m talking about Socrateetee, right?” And this ancient dogma still haunts me today––because dude, what the fuck are you thinking about right now? Has your clarity made you realize my underwear has two holes and like three ambiguous stains? Don’t answer that. 

• Whether the sweet boy you ghosted was actually the love of your life.

Spoiler alert: he probably was, and that idea will most likely haunt you for the rest of your life. But hey, they don’t call it a “ghost” for nothing! And besides, he could’ve equally also been a vampire, or a murderer, or someone who likes the voice memo feature on Hinge, or the 36th great-grandson of Socrates. Who needs love when you have chlamydia?

Okay that’s it, five fears are more than enough right now. Some honorable mentions: being attracted to a first-year, middle age mediocrity, the men’s lacrosse team, a grown man calling me “mommy”, the couple that makes out in the Stiles library, seeing my situationship talk with literally anyone at a party, chlamydia a second time. 

I wish you a safe and sexy Halloweekend, especially to those virgins reading (which, if you’re reading SOTW, you’re most likely a virgin). You know what Halloween means: sacrifices and seances. I really don’t want you to get sacrificed! So please, I implore you to keep one eye open, or just have sex already.