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Let’s face our facts - Living with the all-too-common herpes virus (HSV-1/HSV-2) can be difficult for anyone. That’s why we here at Stoodin created this herpes dating site for all health-conscious adult singles who may need just a little bit of judgment-free help when it comes to hooking up with other herpes singles that are ready to mingle!

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These blisters or sores are different for everyone – some people only get them once; other people have "outbreaks" many times over their lifetime.Once you have herpes, the virus is always in your body, so it can pass by oral, vaginal, or anal sex.Oral herpes, an infection of the lips, mouth or gums that causes blisters, can be spread from the mouth to the genital area during oral sex. And then, definitely aloud: “I have herpes.” Silence. “But before you freak out,” I said as casually as I could, “let me tell you about it.” “The transmission risks are tiny,” I started, and they are: about 2–4 percent from woman to man, depending on condom use. I’d worry about how to escape this foreign part of Brooklyn later. Bye then,” I said, stepping toward him, him, a body shellshocked on the bed. So I made a sort of ill-informed compromise with my sexual cravings: everything but. Down there, I looked and felt the same as I always had. And then one day at the office I met him, a tall, dark-haired, sunkissed drink of coworker water. Thanks to herpes, I took things slow, until the temptation to make things NSFW grew too strong. I untwined my legs and sat up, hopped off the bed, and picked up my underwear. This was always the weirdest part: negotiating a leave. Pictures of the clap danced in my head whenever I had penetration to consider, even in college. The nurse, a bespectacled woman with short hair and a slight waddle, delved into the center of my spreadeagle. “Well,” she said lightly after I had tied my paper gown, “it looks like someone was a little overzealous down there! I had educated myself about STIs and the medicines available to fight them; the whiteboard images of unchecked disease were erased. The first time I told a man, I couldn’t help but cry. The second time, we — a different he — were stoned. The Conversation continued to ruin my life after dark; disclosure brought the othering I had dreaded. I felt more fragile and powerful and worthy of careful handling than ever. Instead, it became a filter for expendable men in my life.

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