I was fighting for equality from a very young age. This is why I have a panic attack whenever someone asks me, “Can you cut the cake?”

I know slicing a cake doesn’t seem like a big deal, but I actually do not know how to slice a cake (or a pie), at least properly — without fail, the piece will land on the plate as if I had just downed four glasses of wine, so if someone asks me to do this, I’ll make up a quick excuse lie, like, “I actually really have to go to the powder room!”

I’m terrible with directions. I get my “souths” and “lefts” mixed up.

Then again, I always go the extra mile. Which is what happens when you get lost as easily as I do. Before GPS and other navigational technology, including the nice lady who speaks to me in my car when I plug in an address, I would get so confused that I would shamelessly plead with people, “Please don’t confuse me with words like “north, south, east or west!” Just tell me: do I go right or left?”

I’m terrible with directions. I get my “souths” and “lefts” mixed up.

Then again, I always go the extra mile. Which is what happens when you get lost as easily as I do. Before GPS and other navigational technology, including the nice lady who speaks to me in my car when I plug in an address, I would get so confused that I would shamelessly plead with people, “Please don’t confuse me with words like “north, south, east or west!” Just tell me: do I go right or left?”

I just received another invitation to a black tie event. This upsets me greatly.

Not the dress code — who doesn’t appreciate getting a heads-up on what to wear? Even if we have to turn to Google to de-code infuriating words like business formal, creative black-tie, creative cocktail, festive dress, casual dressy, or those snazzy invites that have the audacity to state, “Dress code: Fabulous!”

Personally, I would like to come up with my own dress code that goes something like: Dress for a “damn, you look good” reaction! And leave it at that.

I just received another invitation to a black tie event. This upsets me greatly.

Not the dress code — who doesn’t appreciate getting a heads-up on what to wear? Even if we have to turn to Google to de-code infuriating words like business formal, creative black-tie, creative cocktail, festive dress, casual dressy, or those snazzy invites that have the audacity to state, “Dress code: Fabulous!”

Personally, I would like to come up with my own dress code that goes something like: Dress for a “damn, you look good” reaction! And leave it at that.

I just received another invitation to a black tie event. This upsets me greatly.

Not the dress code — who doesn’t appreciate getting a heads-up on what to wear? Even if we have to turn to Google to de-code infuriating words like business formal, creative black-tie, creative cocktail, festive dress, casual dressy, or those snazzy invites that have the audacity to state, “Dress code: Fabulous!”

Personally, I would like to come up with my own dress code that goes something like: Dress for a “damn, you look good” reaction! And leave it at that.

Underwear is annoying. My solution? I don’t wear them. I haven’t worn underwear since I was 17 years old.

Admittedly, for someone who has gone commando for 25 years, I have amassed an entire drawer full of sexy lacy thongs, boy-shorts, low-rise bikinis, high-rise bikinis, and G-strings — all impulse purchases for special occasions, like going on dates. Or if I want to wear a skirt on a very windy day.

Life at this age is so fucking confusing. We are adapting to so much change that no other previous generation had issues with. Because they didn’t go through this. And if they did? They certainly didn’t warn us!

Read on for issues nobody warned me about in the first chapter of my upcoming book, I’ve Got Issues: Reflections on Modern Love, Midlife, and My Uneven Eyebrows.