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I’m writing an article called “Advice from a senior to a freshman.” Has it really been that long? It doesn’t feel like that long ago I was walking onto Homewood for the first time, standing in the middle of the Gilman Quad utterly and completely lost. I don’t think I’m ready to leave yet.
During my first days at Hopkins, I was incredibly anxious about how I would fare and whether I would be happy. But after forging meaningful relationships with friends from diverse backgrounds and getting a taste of the undergraduate experience, I learned that the negative stereotypes concerning Hopkins are based more on fearful speculation than actual experience.
Clarissa Chen, president of Refuel our Future, explained that one thing she learned from her efforts to persuade Hopkins to divest from fossil fuels is the unique ability of Hopkins students to sway the University. She reminded future student activists to recognize and use this.
While the Fresh Food Cafe (FFC) will probably be the place you go to most often for food, and the Baltimore Museum of Art (BMA) the place you go to most often when you need to feel like you’re doing something cultured, there are plenty of hidden treasures in Baltimore — if one only dares to pop the bubble.
Last September, I woke up early on a Thursday morning and took an Uber to the Planned Parenthood clinic in central Baltimore.
It was a particularly brisk day — the kind of fall day that teeters right at the edge of winter — when I crossed 31st Street last semester and made my way to the Counseling Center for my very first appointment. I wasn’t necessarily going to counseling for mental health issues, I was going to confront a fear that I’ve always had: therapy.
Before I ever experienced romantic love, I spent years wondering how it might feel. From early 2000’s Taylor Swift ballads to my grandparents’ slow dance at their 50th wedding anniversary: The world around me was teeming with romance. Beyond that, when I turned 13, the interrogations began. At family reunions, elderly men I barely knew would pinch my cheeks and inquire, “So, any dates? A beautiful girl like you, I’m surprised you’re not already married.” Please keep in mind, I was 13 years old.
The Emmy-winning HBO fantasy drama Game of Thrones (GoT) is famous for a lot of things, like its elaborate sets and costumes, its eagerness to kill off main characters, and of course its innumerable graphic sex scenes. Many have criticized the show for being overly pornographic or displaying excessive sexual violence. The reality, as any diehard fan knows, is that GoT is so much more than just incest and nudity. At its core it’s a show about courage, perseverance, family, love and loyalty — themes that are largely universal. The show is so popular partly because, although it takes place in a medieval fantasy world, viewers today can personally relate to many of the things the characters deal with on the show — one of which, obviously, is sex.
I’m a 22-year-old college senior, and I have never kissed anyone. It’s not for lack of attraction or for any kind of religious reasons. It just never happened.
Procrastinating my search for employment yet still desiring a source of income, I filled out a Google Forms survey the other day to determine my eligibility to participate in a paid research study. The questionnaire asked whether I had ever fainted before.
I’m still a virgin,” someone told me. “We haven’t had penis-in-vagina sex yet.”
For me, the process of coming to terms with my sexuality was long and unpleasant. I was isolated during eighth and ninth grade, so when I finally came out as a high school sophomore it felt like I had figured it all out. That was it. No more identity struggle.
I have been dating my girlfriend, Sydney, since Valentine’s Day in the eighth grade. Yesterday marks our seven-year anniversary. (There were two relatively short breakups mixed in there, but we don’t have to talk about those.) You’d think that asking a girl out on Valentine’s Day is corny, and you would probably be right, but eighth-grade me thought it was quite clever and that it would be an easy way to remember any anniversaries.
The friend zone. The proverbial Sunken Place in which people hate to be caught. For some, it could be the worst possible thing that could ever happen.