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Elisabeth Ovesen
3x New York Times bestselling author, copywriter, and columnist.


Sexual due diligence, penis metrics, dick discernment, and how the sexual shaming of women hurts both sexes.

Table of Contents

  1. What Men Really Want is…Everything

2. Men Don’t Want to Be Treated Like Women

3. How Women React to Slut-Shaming

4. Men Lose When Women Are Slut-Shamed

5. Above All Else, Love That Woman

Photo: Lil’ Kim from the album Hardcore (1996)

In 1996 I was eighteen years old and had been a stripper for two years already. I hung out with a group of drug dealers, pimps, professional athletes, and a crew of four other strippers I booked for private dances with some of my rich and famous friends, who I met in the private gentlemen’s club where I worked daily double shifts. I’d been living on…

Dear Level

A guide to not fumbling the bag

Photo illustration: Save As/Medium. Source: Getty Images

Whether it happens on the first date, after marriage, or any time in between, the first time you have sex with the woman you’ve been dating is a momentous occasion. It’s a moment that should be approached with an overwhelming display of curiosity, care, and concern for how both of you feel before, during, and after sex.

Your first time together can be erotic and lusty, but it can also be awkward and uncomfortable. How you treat each other after your first encounter is especially important, as it will set the tone for your relationship and sexual experiences moving forward.


Take off the skins of others, come out from inside their heads, and instead, be with yourself.

Photo: RawPixels

I’ve been alone for nearly twenty months. In that time, with the exception of my son, I have only seen one other person I know. Other than a series of recent massages, I have not been touched by another human being. I have not been hugged. I have not had sex. I have not been weighed down by the energies, afflictions, or ideations of others. I have not been tethered. I have not been a receptacle for the waste of others, and I have detoxified in a way I never knew possible.

When the pandemic hit, I was already three…

Dear Level

We all have moments where we lack confidence—but that’s no free pass to be a creep

I recently found myself in a cringeworthy virtual conversation with Jacob, a film producer who gives off some powerful #MeToo vibes. I don’t speak with this guy often, but when I do, it’s always alarming. He’s usually tipsy or full-blown drunk. With each sip, he loses more of his composure and is less able to hide his true intentions.

“You’re so smart,” he slurred.

“You’re dynamic. Do you know that?” he continued. “And you’re gorgeous. A powerhouse. None of the men you’ve ever been with know how to handle you. I mean, do you know how beautiful you are?”



I’m going to a new level of my life, and many of the people I’ve loved can’t come with me, including who I am now.

Illustration: Baifern/RawPixel

I can feel it coming in the air like Phil Collins, and I know I’d better sit down before I fall down. So, I set aside time to be sad, feel overwhelmed, and make the necessary changes to feel better after a while. Sometimes, I schedule a long weekend. Sometimes, I set aside a week or two. This time, I’m designating the entire month of September to feel big feelings, rest my mind and body, and focus on what I need. I ache, can’t stop thinking about what I should do next, and am constantly trying to figure out what…

Dear Level

Never mind what ‘FBoy Island’ says — the two identities are not mutually exclusive. This you?

Photo Illustration: Save As/Medium. Source: Getty Images.

“There’s an influx of good guys in the world!” said no woman ever.

Heartbreak after heartbreak, women tend to learn early in their dating lives that most of the men they meet won’t be worth their weight in salt, and that they are, in fact, fuckboys. You know, the ones who come into a woman’s life with selfish intentions and impose upon her, only to play with her heart, distract her from her goals, and waste her time.

Sure, there are some really great guys out there as well, men who are forthcoming, honest, and enter a woman’s life with…


I am consistently learning and using new tools to help me live with and be informed by my trauma

Photo: Magda Ehlers/Pexels

Coming back into myself has been frightening. I’ve been through one demeaning circumstance after another and have long since forgotten my power. However, as I am being reunited with the woman I used to be, I am keenly aware of how much she and the source of her power need to change. There is so much I need to do differently. So, daily, I remind myself that if I want something I’ve never had, I must do something I’ve never done. This mantra resounds in my mind throughout the day, and I am doing my best to turn this motto…


I have walked away from essays I thought were too transparent to share, and I’ve shared them anyway

Photo: Pixabay/Pexels

I’ve been writing all my life, not because I owed it to anyone, but because I need to. Since the age of five, I’ve been writing short stories, poetry, and books. I would spend hours after school and throughout each summer reading classic works by Edgar Allan Poe, Ernest Hemingway, and Agatha Christie. They and authors like them were my first teachers, and they inspired me to write. For as long as I can remember, writing is how I made sense of myself. It’s the only way I could keep track of the thoughts and feelings swirling in my mind…


There’s something different about getting lost in a pandemic

Photo: Daniel Frank/Pexels

I drove into this small New Jersey township on the first day of November, full of hope and anxious to start over. California was three thousand miles behind me with its raging forest fires, earthquakes, and a running tab of over three million Covid cases. After living there for over twenty years, this was the only time I ever thought of moving, and I still can’t believe I did it. I’d given away most of my belongings and sold what I could. I was tired of holding on to the memories and hopes embedded in my things. There was the…


I was in trouble, and only one decision could set me free

Photo: Vidal Balielo Jr./Pexels

The pain was almost too much to bear. My body shook uncontrollably as cramps and spasms shot through my abdomen. My teeth chattered, and my blood ran cold. Tears streamed down my face as I bit my bottom lip, too embarrassed to let anyone hear my wails. Reeling, I opened my mouth and let out a silent scream. Grasping tightly to the rails of my hospital bed, I called for the nurse as she hurried by the half-drawn curtain that separated where I was from where I’d been. So much had changed in the past four months.

“You need something…

Elisabeth Ovesen

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