“I approached the pharmacy near the rear of the store and my pulse quickened as I noticed a man and a woman in white lab coats behind the counter. Please don’t let it be the guy, I silently hoped. I imagined him picturing me having sex and thinking that I’m easy, a slut. Like an obese person wheezing as they ask for their blood pressure medication, while everyone muffles their condescending giggle.

The female pharmacist, a brunette with plastic rim glasses who looks only a few years older than me, approached the pick-up side and I felt calmer, yet still awkwardly muttered, “Uh, I guess” when she asked if I was indeed picking up. I tried to exude confidence, like I had done nothing wrong as I said, “I need Plan B.” I’d been with the same guy for six months and my writing career has been driven by the need to promote a sex-positive society. What was coming over me?”