Twenty-One, and Never Been Kissed
February 14, 2017
"The only person I have to blame for sabotaging what was supposed to be my first kiss was me. The fact is, the mechanics of making out were something I knew nothing about. I desperately wanted to impress him, but in that moment my tongue felt more like a sledgehammer than some sensual tool for seduction. As Philippo leaned in with parted lips, the excitement that was simpering in my stomach quickly curdled into panic. My heart was pounding, my palms were sweating, my mouth was dry, I was nauseous—the only logical thing to do next was run. And so I left him sitting there on the wet sand."
"It wasn’t the first time I had suffered from an attack of philemaphobia—a fear of kissing. Though in my case, it wasn’t the germs that raised my anxiety levels, but a fear of failure— a sort of sexual stage fright."