Editor’s note: This week marks the debut of Flagpole’s new advice columnist, whom we’re extremely happy to welcome to the fold. Send your questions to [email protected], or use the online form. All letter writers will remain anonymous.

Athens: I am here for you. I am here to help.

When I think of advice columnists, I imagine a white person living in a major metropolitan area with a long-term partner and a hypoallergenic pet. She smiles warmly in her photo, arms crossed, face tilted slightly forward, but not so much that she looks like a supervillain. She gives lukewarm mom advice or takes the last names of horrible politicians and turns them into gay sex terminology. (I knew what Santorum was before I knew who Santorum was.) She’s friends with Rachel Maddow and insists that Junot Diaz is a feminist. If she’s a sex advice columnist, she’s friends with Sasha Grey and loves Lena Dunham.

I am none of those things and will probably never be, just like you aren't.

That's why I wanted to talk to you, Athens: because I am you. Stop taking advice from people who are nothing like you. I live in the same overpriced hovel near the tracks that you just moved out of. I can't sleep, but I tell people that I can, just like you do. Actually, we all hate the train, don't we? If it's “lulling you to sleep,” as some townies always claim, then you're probably drunk and already on your way to passing out.

I have definitely banged your ex. Definitely—regardless of gender. And you've banged at least half of mine.

I walk to the same tiendas and (slowly disappearing) corner stores that you do, while claiming to buy everything at the Co-op and the farmers market, the latter of which I haven't been to in about two years. I used to pretend to like the taste of Pabst Blue Ribbon, when I was actually just bad at managing my finances. I sleep with people entirely too young for me, and I do this with no intention of ever dating them or even contacting them after the fact. In the past, I lied about this fact of life and dating in this town, but now I have the decency to make sure this is clear before my panties even come off.

I have definitely banged your ex. Definitely—regardless of gender. And you've banged at least half of mine.

I think that what most advice columnists get wrong—sex columnists, in particular—is trying to present their lives as perfection, as an existence the unwashed masses should aspire towards. Slutever talks about her sex life as if ass just falls out of the sky and every lay is perfect if you just talk to your partner. Dan Savage speaks with a strong voice of rightness and privilege, showing a lack of the humility that’s expected from his demographic, but still, lots of GLBTQ+ types hate him for it (me included). He speaks of how he and his husband weather their suburbanite non-problems as if we should all be wowed. The only thing that wows me is how he manages to be gay and boring at the same time.

I can answer your questions and help you work through your crap, not because I've lived a life without problems, but because I've lived through all the same shit that you have. Is this a relationship and sex advice column? Probably; that seems to be the struggle of most young people in this town. Work can happen easily enough here if you're not too specific about it, and fun is a given. But relationships are to Athens as depth is to Dan Savage’s writing: super hard to come by. That's strange, that in a town full of artists and musicians who wear their emotions on their sleeves, young, happy couples are a rarity.

Most people in this town don't even demand monogamy anymore, maybe just an orgasm and a call back in a day or two—but even that's hard to find. The last person I slept with was a decade younger than me and touched my vagina like he'd never encountered one before. I burned sage and went swimming in a saltwater pool the next day to try to right myself, and I deleted his number while sitting on the toilet minutes after he left (I don't do sleepovers).

Anyway, Athens, I’m down to answer any life questions you'd like me to weigh in on, but let’s be honest: I'm really here to help you sort out your chick habit. I'm here to help you treat each other better and treat yourself better. I'm here to help.