I took Plan B for the first time not too long ago and had never been so elated when I started my period a few days later.

A couple of weeks ago, I got a flirty DM from a man who’d recently followed me on Instagram after seeing my Tinder profile (an ingenious loophole that takes you directly from Tinderman/Tinderella to Insta Mutual—more on this method in a later column). Slutty as I am, we soon made plans for coffee. Plans for coffee at 8:30 p.m. On a weeknight. We knew what was up.

I packed a pair of my hypoallergenic condoms and fucked this man.

After we both got off, we lay in bed, talk and laugh for about an hour before I decide to go home to sleep in my own bed with my own pajamas after using my own moisturizer on my own skin. Before I leave, he kisses me at the door, kicking off round two.

A wall-size mirror in his bedroom makes round two quickly turn to round three—requiring the use of a third condom I did not bring.

I’m not too stressed because he’s got a stash of reputably-branded condoms.

But the condom broke.

IT BROKE!!!

That had never, in my entire life, in the several years and countless partners I’ve had, EVER happened to me.

He’s ready to drive me to the nearest pharmacy, but it’s 1 a.m., we live a good 20 minutes apart, so instead, I take it upon myself to be a woman, and for the very first time, purchases my very own Plan B (with this dude’s Venmo'd money).

It being my first time to buy it, I was surprised to find sometime later, I bought it at the wrong pharmacy, as apparently Drug Emporium has the cheapest generic brand. “Cheaper by about $12,” some confidants say.

I never had a need for emergency contraceptive until a few months ago when I stopped using any form of regular birth control. Fully because they all suck (for me, at least).

There are a million ways and a million reasons to use birth control. I’ve tried probably five different types of the pill, and I tried an IUD for about a year. Finding the right pill for me was futile. I always had at least one side effect I didn’t love: weight gain, mood swings, migraine, breast tenderness, fatigue, nausea, and decreased libido to name a few. The IUD insertion was awful—I’ll tell you folks about that some other time.

Beyond that, we have the shot, the implant, the patch, the sponge, vaginal rings, cervical caps, or a couple different surgeries to block baby making powers. In a heterosexual relationship, the responsibility is piled onto the woman. Sure, men can get vasectomies and men should have and use (but in my experience rarely keep in stock) condoms. Why as women must we be fully invested in contraception, an issue in which both partners should have an equal stake? No, seriously, do you know how many would be opposed to having to take a male birth control because of what it would do to their body? What about my body?

I feel obligated to include here that using two condoms at once is an objectively bad idea. It makes breaking and thus pregnancy far more likely. Just don’t do it! Also, the "pull-out" method does not work. Don’t even try it! Yes, condoms suck, but if pregnancy is your concern, they are much cheaper than a Plan B, abortion pill, or abortion procedure. And just for the record: people do lie about their STI status.

Suffice it to say, I’d never been happier to see blood in the toilet a few days after taking “aftera,” CVS’s cleverly-named version of Plan B. Contraceptives are a journey, one sometimes women in heterosexual relationships ride alone. But, I hope me sharing a bit of my journey helps.

See you next week.

Vix is a sex and dating columnist for The Dentonite. We hope to begin including your stories and questions with this weekly column. Send ideas and suggestions to vix@thedentonite.com. Follow her on Twitter @VixVickson.

Header image by Christopher Rodgers