Oh, man, your life is messed UP right now.
Not that anyone asked us. But they can officially start.
That’s right, the Dig is launching its first-ever advice column (that’s not only sexual, but quite often will be), featuring everyone’s favorite Ancient Aliens proselytizer, Jilly Gagnon.
Send her your questions at firstname.lastname@example.org and she’ll send you a piece of her mind.
Because during those troubled times, it’s always important to ask yourself: What WOULD Jilly do?
I’ve been on The Pill for years and it is legit making me crazy. I’ve explored all birth control options and the best one for me seems to be an IUD. The issue is my insurance company doesn’t cover this, so my boyfriend and I are thinking of just using condoms, but this seems like some high school BS. Do I just stay on the pill (as permanent Mayor of Crazytown), or do I enter the strange world of Awkward Pre-Sex Pauses whereby one locates a condom, opens the package, accidently flings it across the room, loses the boner, and then we just give up and order takeout? This doesn’t sound sexy at all.
Let me start by mentioning that there ARE things more awkward than pre-sex pauses. Like telling your boyfriend you’re pregnant, OOPS!
But you seem to be aware that some method of birth control is in order, so that advice is mainly for the stupid and/or already-wasted-and-itching-to-
Now back to your vagina.
You say the pill is making you crazy, a very possible side-effect (alongside weight-gain, erratic bra size, and conveniently-predictable periods—hey, it’s not all bad), but you also say you’ve been on the pill for years.
I guess what I’m getting at is: Are you SURE it’s the pill?
Most pill issues arise sooner than many-years-down-the-line. Is there anything else—your diet, sleep schedule, stress levels, etc.—that has changed recently (read: since you’ve noticed the insanity) that could be the cause?
Or did your doctor change the type of pill you’re on? Different versions have different formulas, and therefore, different amounts of crazy.
Assuming you’ve ruled all that out, call your doctor.
Instead of asking her to implant an IUD, ask what, exactly, it will cost, and whether you can set up a payment plan—FYI, without insurance, it should cost between $175 and $500, according to the Association of Reproductive Health Professionals.
Here’s a secret even dirtier than a trashcan full of condoms: Many medical offices are so used to people not paying anything that they’ll make a deal (if your doc won’t, try Planned Parenthood). Maybe $500 up-front is too much, but if you and your boyfriend each chip in $25/month—and since he’s going to benefit both in condom-money-saved and condoms-avoided, he should chip in—you’ll be able to pay back the doc in less than a year, for less than the cost of a handful of failed-sex-takeout-meals.
If your doctor won’t bargain, set aside the money each month, anyway, and once you have enough, IUD-it-up.
In the meantime, decide which you hate more: awkward condom fumbles, or generalized insanity.
Me? I’d take a functioning brain over the potential that a condom could kill the mood any day. After all, I like occasional late-night take out.
I’m getting married in June. I’ve noticed that some people treat getting married as a free pass to act entitled about everything. I’m hoping that a modicum of self-awareness can help me avoid this, but just in case that’s not enough: what are the major behaviors I need to avoid so I don’t turn into a bridezilla?
Dear (Soon-to-be)-Mrs. J,
Congratulations. Even TRYING for self-awareness puts you way out in front of half the women I know, and 100% of my favorite episodes of reality TV.
But awareness isn’t enough (there’s a reason it’s only step 1 in AA).
When thinking about your perfect, special day, remember: It’s YOUR day. That doesn’t mean the world owes you 17 ice sculptures of your face, it means no one else will possibly care about it as much as you. That might sound disheartening, but look on the bright side: Most of the things you’re obsessing over other people won’t notice or won’t remember. Breathe, count to ten, and stop worrying about finding twenty perfect vintage pulleys to suspend the flower arrangements from the ceiling.
With that in mind, the biggest behavior to avoid is assuming other people will—or even should—prioritize the day like you have. As Mandy Connor, wedding planner and owner of Boston-based Hummingbird Bridal And Events, notes,
“realistic expectations of yourself and others is 99% of the battle. Lacking the genetic coding to be a royal bitch is the other 1%.”
But what qualifies as royally bitchy? Use this rule: Before asking a favor of anyone, even that lazy bridesmaid who kind of owes you 286 hand-calligraphied place cards, price it out both in time and money (with help from Google).
If the “favor” would cost $50+, and/or would take longer than a single afternoon, hire the professional, do it yourself, or re-evaluate your wedding needs. That way, you’ll avoid asking too much of your friends, guaranteeing you’ll still have a few once the day has come and gone.