Dear Missie (short version of Mistress),
You probably expect this to be another article that condemns you and tells you you’re a horrible person for banging another woman’s husband.  You probably expect me to urge you to leave him.
But I won’t say these things to you because I know you’ve heard them over and over again. How do I know? You see, Missie, I have been you before- once.
Actually, I have been you five times. I have dated five married men and this is the biggest regret of my life. I remember the one that I fell in love with. After he took me for a moonlit stroll on the beach, gazed into my eyes and …

When did you hear the word “fuck” for the first time? I heard it for the first time in Sunday school when I was an innocent eight-year-old girl (yes, I will start therapy soon).
An impish boy, whom we shall call John, gave someone the middle finger while we were all singing: Jesus loves me this I know. Immediately, a tittle-tattler among us yelled:  “Bro. Sammy! John just told someone to fuck off?!!!” So, Bro. Sammy, our long-suffering Sunday school teacher was forced to tell us, albeit shamefacedly, the concise meaning of the word “fuck” and why good Christian children do not use that word. Don’t ask me to tell you what Bro. Sammy said, I …