The way we dealt with it was to write about it, so everyone knew what had happened.
Ironically, and because I’m a bigger personality, I’ve probably suffered more than others for this.”Ms.
Collins is indeed not only confessional, but also confrontational.
In 2013, in an article for Elle magazine, she wrote about being arrested three times: for assaulting her first husband, for assaulting his girlfriend and for violating an order of protection he had taken out against her, by overturning a coffee table. Collins is happy to share her labial regimen (see “coconut oil,” above), the minutiae of her sex life and the unraveling of her second marriage, which ended in part because of the meddling of a Woolfer, as it happens.“The marriage was strained, and I had been wanting a second dog for a while,” Ms. “My husband didn’t, but like most women I do most of the work around the house and pay my fair share.” She asked the Woolfers, in essence, “Am I a jerk if I just go ahead and get the dog?
This is more like the stuff you tell your girlfriend at the end of the day, the eye-glazing end of intimacy.
There’s intimacy that’s thrilling, but this isn’t.”Conversations have leaked outside the group, like the time one woman wrote of her son’s bad behavior, and another Woolfer told her own child, who happened to know the son, who then told the son of his mother’s revelations about his conduct.“It was pretty easy to figure out who it was,” Ms. “I reached out and said, ‘This is super-uncool,’ and we removed her from the group.
You would assume that group would mirror itself online and stay small and homogeneous.But within a year of its founding, WWVWD, to use its colloquial abbreviation, had more than 1,300 members; the week after the presidential election there was an increase of another 1,000, Ms.Collins said, with many seeking a way to marshal themselves for political action. Collins changed from “secret” to “closed” (meaning it can be seen by the public), begot subgroups, for those who wanted to focus on philanthropy, activism, business networking and writing.When she Googled “perimenopause,” it amused her to read that one of the symptoms was “impending sense of doom,” and she noted her discovery in an uncomplicated (until recently) manner: a Facebook post. one friend joked darkly, because of course what Woolf did, at 59, was kill herself. Collins, now 48, had created a secret Facebook group with just that title, inviting her friends into the internet era’s version of a consciousness-raising group, where women of a certain age could talk about things they didn’t want to share with husbands, partners or children.Friends wrote back, half-seriously, suggesting she start a group for their cohort, but what to call it? That would be everything from the peevishly quotidian (complaints about dry skin or men not shutting cabinets) to the truly harrowing (suicide ideation; job loss at middle age; bad marriages; domestic abuse; and children suffering from drug addiction). There would be lots of chatter around sex: requests for tips on technique; concern about “the handful of limp” of an older boyfriend; vaginal atrophy; dry vaginas; sex toys; bad sex; no sex; anal sex; the viability of hiring a male prostitute; who has an orgasm first during sex: weird places to have sex; obligatory sex; sex with an ex; tantric sex; group sex; and many, many posts about coconut oil (see “dry vaginas,” above). Collins, who lives in Brooklyn Heights in a modish duplex apartment overlooking the East River, is emblematic of a certain demographic: mostly white — though Ms.