Can We Please Stop Inviting Freud Into Our Bedrooms?

There’s a debate in the sexual sphere that has raged for centuries, and that debate is: Are vaginal orgasms superior to clitoral orgasms? And further: Is everyone with a vagina capable of having vaginal orgasms, or are some of us “doomed” to only have clitoral orgasms – if that – as long as we live?

I find this debate annoying as hell, for three reasons:

  1. It shames a huge amount of people for the way they get off (or don’t get off), which we definitely don’t need more of.
  2. It implies that vulva-bearing bodies are something to be argued about and commentated on by others, when instead we could just listen to those people about how their own bodies work, since they’re the ones who would know.
  3. It’s largely the result of some theories Freud put forth in his day, and he was extremely wrong about a lot of stuff, not to mention frequently misogynist AF.

 

While I won’t deny that Freud was an important and influential figure in the psychology field, and that some of his ideas had merit, his thoughts on vaginal versus clitoral orgasms were utterly unhinged, and unsupported by any legitimate science I’m aware of. He wrote that part of a healthy transition to adulthood for (cis) women was unlearning the “phallic” desire for clitoral orgasms and instead starting to derive all their sexual pleasure from penetration. He believed that if someone remained “fixated” on having clitoral orgasms, it meant that they were repressed and “infantile.”

I suppose at the time, it would’ve been surprising for a stately male doctor to talk about female sexual pleasure at all – and certainly, his theories laid the groundwork for research that was done later on the G-spot and other sites of vaginal pleasure, hence the worldwide proliferation of A-spot dildos and G-spot vibrators, which I am definitely a fan of. (Freud was multilingual, and one wonders what he would’ve thought of these G-punkt-vibratoren and vibratori punto G if he’d been around to see them.)

Many theorists have also argued that the G-spot is part of the clitoris – its internal portion, which is much larger than what we see on the outside of the body – and that’s an interesting point that raises a lot of questions about how pleasure and orgasm function. But by and large, I think Freud really fucked us over with his thoughts on sexuality, especially those focused on the clitoris and vagina, and we’re still seeing the effects of that today.

See, anatomically speaking, the clitoris is analogous to the penis. This means that expecting someone to experience pleasure – let alone orgasm – from sex where their clit is completely ignored is every bit as unreasonable as expecting a person to get off without having their dick touched at all. It certainly happens, but only for a minority of people, plenty of whom still find it easier to come when, y’know, their main sexual pleasure organ is being stimulated.

Freud’s narrative of women “aging out of” clitoral orgasms and somehow magically starting to have vaginal orgasms instead is hyperfocused on heterosexual, penis-in-vagina sex. He confabulated upon and romanticized his notion of what penetrative sex “should” be like – i.e. effortlessly, mutually pleasurable for both participants all on its own – instead of listening to people about what that type of sex actually felt like for them. And his views have persevered into a whole new millennium, with mainstream publications and doctors alike still debating clitoral orgasms as if there’s anything less real, less legitimate or less good about them.

 

I’d love if we could fully shift, as a culture, toward viewing the G-spot and other vaginal erogenous zones as being more akin to the prostate than the penis – since, anatomically and pleasure-wise, they are. Many people love prostate stimulation but still need some dick contact if orgasm’s gonna happen, and this is understood to be normal and expected. The same should be true for folks who require clit stimulation in order to get off, which is entirely normal (I’ve seen various studies estimate this is the case for around 70-90% of people with vulvas).

Of course, the main reason this fact hasn’t gained more traction in the dominant culture is that it forces cis men to contend with the fact that their dick alone isn’t a fantastical orgasm-administering magic wand. It requires them to give pleasure intentionally and effortfully, instead of just assuming it’ll happen as a byproduct of seeking their own direct pleasure through intercourse. A lot of people with vaginas have also absorbed this messaging, such that they may feel “broken” or “high-maintenance” for having entirely normal sexual anatomy and sexual desires. Imagine a cis guy guiltily asking his girlfriend, “Hey, I know we don’t really do this, but would you maybe wanna touch my dick sometime? I think it would feel good for me.” This, sadly, is an exact parallel of the situation many sexually active people with vaginas are in.

 

But we don’t have to keep perpetuating this paradigm that tells us our bodies are faulty and our desire for pleasure is annoying or immature. We can decide to look at sex in a new way, one that’s actually supported by science and the anecdotal observations of millions of people around the world. We can kick Freud out of our beds, shouting this message back through the centuries: Our pleasure matters, our pleasure is real, and we can and will pursue our pleasure on our own terms.

The Lelo Sila is My Favorite Clit Pulsator Toy; the Lelo Sila Cruise is Not

I’m enamored with the Lelo Sila. It bears the label of “my favorite clit pulsator toy,” which is a tough label to earn. It’s also earned a spot in the top drawer of my nightstand. I mentioned it in an interview just today, actually, when someone asked me what toys I’ve been loving lately. This luxe stimulator is top-tier, as far as I’m concerned.

But Lelo is a company known for their terrible, gimmicky “innovations,” and in keeping with that, they recently introduced a new version of the Sila called the Sila Cruise. I dislike it so much that I’m not even gonna link to it. Buy the original Sila instead.

What’s so great about the Lelo Sila?

Most clit pulsators – think Womanizers and Satisfyers – focus predominantly on the tip of the clit. The Sila is the only one I’ve found that stimulates my entire external clit: the tip, the shaft, and the hood. This makes it an especially good pick for folks with larger clits and/or transmasculine folks with bottom growth, or just folks who like a roomier fit.

The Sila’s wide, flat “lips” help create a better seal around the clit than almost any other pressure-wave stimulator I’ve tried. They also conduct the Sila’s sensations through the skin and into the buried “legs” of the internal clit.

As a result of all this, the Sila provides more full-bodied clitoral sensations than any other toy I’ve tried of this type. It is a toy that puts all of its focus – and it has a lot of focus – on the clit. So, as a big fan of clitoral stimulation – especially the kinds that go past just the sensitive tip of my clit – I love this toy.

It also has a “rumblier” feel than many other pressure-wave toys, meaning each little airwave feels lower-pitched and more impactful. This significantly reduces any numbness or desensitization I might experience from using a clitoral toy for a while. Its stimulation is so rumbly, and yet so indirect, that I can have multiple orgasms with this toy – not something I’m usually capable of, at least not this easily.

The quality of the orgasms is much improved for me as well, because this toy stimulates much more of my clit than any other pressure-wave toy. Other toys of this type have sometimes given me ruined half-orgasms, or have stimulated me so intensely during orgasm that the experience was more painful than pleasurable; not so with this toy. The Lelo Sila gives me deep, intense, long-lasting, and often quite sudden orgasms that leave me speechless and panting.

What’s the difference between the Sila and the Sila Cruise?

So far as I can tell, the only addition to the Cruise is a “feature” known as Cruise Control. Lelo says that Cruise Control “reserves 20% of SILA™ Cruise’s full power during normal use, so that when SILA™ Cruise is pressed hard against the body and the motor begins to drop power, that extra 20% is unleashed so that there’s no reduction of intensity” before and during your orgasm.

There are… multiple issues with this. One is that I have never personally experienced my Sila slowing down or fading in power from the amount of pressure I’ve applied to it. It’s just not an issue I’ve encountered. So it’s kind of confusing that Lelo went to the trouble of launching a new version of their own toy, to solve a problem that (in my experience, anyway) the toy doesn’t even have.

Another issue is that not everyone wants maximal power right before or during their orgasm, and it’s weird to assume that they would. One of the beautiful things about Lelo toys is that they always have at least 8 different speeds, so they can satisfy a broad range of users, from super-sensitive folks to those who need more stimulation to get them off. The freedom to adjust sex toys to my own preferred intensity at any given moment is key to my pleasure. In fact, I would say it’s a mandatory feature of any vibe I’ll enjoy, and certainly a standard feature to expect on any toy that costs more than $15. Lelo has taken that freedom away from me with the Cruise – as they say, “it’s not a setting, it’s completely automatic,” so I can’t even turn it off and use the Sila Cruise normally without Cruise Control.

The third and most pressing issue I have with Cruise Control is that it doesn’t even do what it’s supposed to do. The boost in intensity doesn’t kick in when I press the toy harder against my body. No, instead it kicks in… whenever the hell it wants to. Often at a moment in my arousal process when I really, really wish my clit stimulator would stay at the exact same intensity so that I can, y’know, continue to feel good and build toward an orgasm, rather than having said orgasm be thwarted by an inconsistent toy.

It’s really a boner-killer when this happens, because the intensity that Cruise Control brings to the table is aggressive, especially if you’re accustomed to a lower speed – so my clit can get overstimulated to the point that a bruisey, ouchy sensation will linger for several minutes afterward. This is antithetical to the gentle, slow build that I appreciated about the original Sila.

The Sila Cruise is $189, whereas the original Lelo Sila is $169. They’re both definitely in the “luxury sex toy” price range, but the Sila Cruise is absolutely not worth that amount of money, because you can’t even control the damn intensity of it. It just jumps around randomly. It might as well be a poorly-wired $6.99 body massager from the Walmart bargain bin for how unreliable it is. I truly have no idea what on earth made Lelo think it was a good idea to not only make this toy but also to charge twenty extra dollars for it.

Final words

If you want full-bodied clitoral sensations that encompass your entire external clit and even stimulate some of the inner portions, you want the Lelo Sila. But you do not want the Lelo Sila Cruise, because you, presumably, do not want your orgasms ruined or your clit pummelled.

The Sila Cruise is not a “new and improved” version of the Sila. If anything, it is a “new and worsened” version of the Sila. It is “new and useless.” It is “new and painful.” It is “new and what the actual fuck.” But it is certainly not “new and improved.”

 

Thanks to Lelo for sending me these products to try! I really do mean it when I say that I love the original Sila and highly recommend it. But don’t get the Cruise. Just don’t.

I Wrote a Song that Answers One of the Most Common Sex Questions in the World

One of the topics I’ve always cared most about as a sex educator is the importance of clitoral stimulation. Maybe it comes from the many hours I’ve spent trawling the /r/Sex subforum on Reddit, on which you can find at least 3-5 posts per day from either a person with a vagina who can’t reach climax from vaginal intercourse and doesn’t know why, or the cis boyfriend/husband of someone who fits that description complaining that his partner isn’t coming during sex.

It makes me want to scream with frustration sometimes. If a cis man showed up on the forum and wrote, “I’ve never reached orgasm during sex,” and subsequently revealed that no partner had ever touched his penis during sex, nor had it ever occurred to him to touch his own penis during sex, everyone would be like, “WTF, dude? The solution is obvious.” The clitoris is the anatomical equivalent of the penis, so both of these scenarios are equally ridiculous and should be treated as such.

Anyway, lately I’ve been getting back into songwriting, and decided to take a crack at conveying this information through song. Please feel free to share the song with anyone you think needs to hear it! The lyrics are below, incase you want to follow along (or, um, print them out and distribute them to anyone you date in the future so they know what’s up).


I think that I’m bored in bed
Or maybe I’m much too much in my head
I’m loving your kissing
But there’s something missing
I can’t put my finger on it…
Oh yeah!
Touch my clit!

Touch my clit – it would be for my pleasure
Touch my clit, that sensitive treasure
I like how it feels quite a bit
When you’re touching my clit

My friend had a tragic breakup
Her man really needed to wake up
He asked for a rating:
Sex versus masturbating
It led to a miserable split
He should’ve touched her clit!

Touch her clit – it is in your best interest
To treat every clit like a princess
It’s a step you should never (almost never) omit:
Touch their clit!

Just so you understand your callousness
The clit and the dick are analogous
Would you like having your dick ignored
Every time you scored?
Wouldn’t you get bored?
Touch it!
Touch that clit!

And now that you’ve learned basic sex stuff
Here’s even more radical tech stuff:
Toys that vibrate
Are really fucking great
Go pick one up lickety-split
And touch a clit!

Touch that clit, with not many exceptions
You can give them a clitoral erection
Most people like how it feels quite a bit
So touch that clit
Remember to lubricate it
And touch a clit!

What Does Clitoral Suction Say About Gender?

Trends in the sex toy market are fun to watch, not only because they portend new pleasure possibilities but also because they tend to signal something about how our cultural beliefs on sex and gender are evolving. So when toys like the Satisfyer and Womanizer kept popping up left and right, it made me wonder: what do clitoral suction toys say about gender?

Granted, it’s technically incorrect to refer to these toys’ mechanisms as suction. They use a new mechanical method – variously referred to as “non-contact pressure wave technology,” “gentle sonic waves,” and “Pleasure Air Technology” – to gently and touchlessly stimulate the clitoris. But the effect can feel remarkably suction-like in practice, to the point that a minority of users complain these toys cause a pressure-y pain the likes of which you might notice when you crank up a clit pump too high. Most reviewers compare these toys’ sensations to oral sex – because, like a warm and willing mouth, they surround the clitoris and apply gentle, rhythmic pressure that can escalate to something like suction.

I was not initially sold on these toys; their brand of stimulation felt so soft as to be basically imperceptible at times, and they too often led me into orgasms half-ruined by the aimless, air-based tapping they administer. But after a while, my body got used to their more delicate and nuanced sensations, and I noticed that these toys, more than any others, allowed me to fantasize unimpeded about one of my favorite sex acts: cunnilingus.

You can think about getting your clit licked if you’re using a vibrator, your hand, or anything else, of course – but toys that feel vaguely like suction lend themselves especially well to this imaginative task. No human being has ever sucked on my clit as tenderly or rhythmically as these toys do, and yet their soft, rubbery nozzles hearken back to smooth lips wrapped around my bits, and their relentless “pressure waves” feel remarkably akin to a tongue rap-tap-tapping against my clit. So you can see how, when cunnilingual cravings hit, I began to reliably reach for an air-pulse toy.

The runaway success of this toy category is hard to miss if you spend any time monitoring industry trends. While Womanizer was the O.G., multiple copycat companies have leapt onboard the bandwagon and started cranking out their own versions. These toys have been profiled in GlamourCosmopolitan, and many more heavyweight sex-focused publications. There’s a fervor around them that I haven’t seen since the rabbit vibe or Magic Wand. My theory? These products strike a nerve because clitoral suction subverts gender norms.

I think about this a lot vis-à-vis cunnilingus, because I am somebody who gets off on being sucked off. My clitoris is average-sized, but, like most, it has a long enough shaft that it can be taken into someone’s mouth and sucked on, like a tiny cock. But despite how easy it is to do this – and the common-sense assumption that many people would enjoy having their most sensitive sexual organ surrounded and stroked by wet lips – this oral technique has been surprisingly rare in my sex life. Most of my past partners (the ones who bothered to go down on me, anyway) stuck to wet tongue flicks on the top or sides of my clit. Depending on intensity and stamina, this could sometimes get me off – but nonetheless, whenever someone momentarily slipped my clit into their mouth, I moaned much louder and clawed at them in frenzied desperation. You would think they would notice this and keep doing the thing that was obviously working, but many of them did not. Why?

I think there are two basic gender-based reasons for this phenomenon. One: Most straight dudes (and unfortunately, my past sexual partners are predominantly straight dudes) – whether consciously or not – associate phalluses with dicks, and assume that any kind of “fellation” would make them gay, or at least effeminate. And two: They assume, on some level, that I, being a cis woman, don’t want my clit to be “treated like a dick” because it’ll make me feel “like a man.” Wrong on both counts, gents.

Some important nuances in this discussion: Some people who have clits are not women, such as pre-op/non-op trans men and assigned-female-at-birth non-binary folks, and some of those people like to have their clits sucked on for gender affirmation reasons (in addition to physical pleasure reasons). On the flipside, not all women have clits (e.g. trans women and victims of clitoridectomy) and not all clit-havers even like having their clits stimulated. Nonetheless, I think clitoral suction as a whole is a powerful metaphor for how our culture thinks about sex and gender – because it’s the satisfaction of an organ often considered “female” in a way that’s usually reserved for phalluses often considered “male.”

The reason I know this is partly a sexual orientation issue is that my queer partners (of any gender) have never seemed to have a problem with sucking my clit. They tend to do it wholeheartedly and wholemouthedly upon request, even if that request is non-verbal (e.g. by gently pushing my clit forward toward their lips). It’s only the straight men who pointedly avoid it, so I have to assume their aversion has something to do with thoughts of dicks and gayness and fellatio.

I don’t entirely blame them – homophobic and transphobic cultural myths are highly prevalent and hard to ignore – but I do think that we, as a society, need to move past these myths. Sometimes we do that in big ways, like by naming and calling out toxic masculinity through media campaigns and the #MeToo movement, and other times we do it in small ways, like by confronting our feelings about sucking on a partner’s genitals during sex. Both types of societal inquiry and self-examination are important and necessary, I think.

I’m not saying the way I prefer to receive oral sex will change the world. There’s too much going on for gentle gender subversion behind closed doors to have much of an effect. But it is heartening to observe the success of clitoral “suction” toys in the sex toy market right now, because it means something is shifting. Our sexual culture is learning to prioritize clitoral pleasure at long last, after the persistence of the orgasm gap throughout basically all of human history. We’re becoming more comfortable, too, with the homologous nature of the clitoris and the penis – which I think leads us closer to a much bigger and more important realization: that everyone, regardless of gender, is human, and should be treated as such. Women are not delicate caregivers or winnable objects; men are not relentless warriors or heartless cads. Our socialization and social locations change how we behave and are treated in the world, but they do not make us fundamentally, inherently different from each other, and it’s dangerous to approach gender relations as if they do.

I always look forward to seeing what happens next in the sex toy industry, just as I always look forward to seeing what strides we’ll make in the fight for gender equality. Sometimes these two progressions intersect in the most delicious ways.

 

This post was sponsored by the good folks at The Hot Spot. As always, all writing and opinions are my own.

5 Myths About the Clit

Clitoris, how do I love thee? Let me count the ways. You are a sensitive seductress, an orgasm-enabler, a prettily-hued part. You thrill and satisfy many a mouth, and you give purpose to vibrators that might otherwise remain unused. You are chronically ignored, epidemically mistreated, but still you rise to meet the pleasurable reputation which precedes you. You are, in short, a hero: responsible for great joys worldwide but fiercely unappreciated for all that you do.

Despite all my rhapsodizing, I still have beef with some of the discourse that exists around the clit. It is, to say the least, a widely misunderstood body part. Here are 5 common myths about the almighty clitoris…

It’s only for foreplay.

As artist Sophia Wallace points out in her Cliteracy project: “Mastered the Kama Sutra? If you are not cliterate, 70% of [people with vulvas] will still be unsatisfied.” These stats vary depending on who you ask, but I’ve seen estimates that anywhere from two-thirds to nine-tenths of vulva-possessing folks need clitoral stimulation in order to get off. These numbers are, presumably, similar to the proportion of folks with penises who need those penises touched if they’re going to reach orgasm… because – surprise, surprise – the penis and the clitoris are anatomically analogous.

I have cringed through many a porn scene or fanfic story where clitoral stimulation is treated as a cursory appetizer to the “main event.” And let’s be real: this attitude spreads to real life, even if clitorally oblivious pornographers and erotica authors claim they only create works of fantasy. Several of my cis male partners have demonstrably not understood how important my clit is to my sexual response – and then sometimes they would seem shocked or offended when their penetrative fumblings didn’t push me anywhere close to climax! Our culture needs to change the way it discusses and treats clits, if we have any hope of closing the orgasm gap.

It’s just the little bump you see on the outside.

The head of the clitoris – that is to say, the part that is most visible – is often mistaken as the clit in its totality. In reality, though, medical imaging has taught us that the clitoris extends into the body, just like the penis does. It has a shaft, long legs (“crura”), and bulbs, which can be indirectly stimulated with fingers or clit vibrators through the labia, mons pubis, and vagina. Some theorists even posit that all “G-spot” and “vaginal” orgasms are actually indirect clitoral orgasms in disguise.

Once you know this secret truth about the clit, it really opens up your options for stimulating this body part. For example, many folks (myself included!) find that the head of the clitoris is too sensitive to be touched directly, in which case, stimulating the sides and top of the clitoral shaft might be a better route to pleasure. Don’t be afraid to suck or stroke the shaft as if it were a tiny penis, either – because it basically is. And there’s nothing wrong with that. (Uh, maybe we could re-frame this to say that a penis is essentially an oversized clit?!)

Only women have them.

Fuck off with your cissexist bullshit. Trans men exist. Non-binary people exist. Intersex people exist. There are people all across the gender spectrum – and beyond – who have a clit. If you ever refer to “women” in your spoken or written clitoral discourse, ask yourself: why? Is it really, truly, actually necessary to phrase your ideas that way? Probably not.

On that note, the marketing for clit vibes is habitually feminine, and it’s disheartening to see. Sex toy companies need to get with the program already; it is 2019, and excluding trans people isn’t acceptable, nor was it ever.

It has more nerve endings than the entire penis.

An often-repeated factoid about the clitoris is that it contains 8,000 nerve endings, apparently twice as many as the entire penis. But that stat can be traced back to a 1976 book about cows and sheep – not even humans. Even if that estimate did apply to people, it would probably refer to the circumcised penis, because modern medicine estimates the foreskin alone contains about 20,000 nerve endings. Yeesh!

This isn’t exactly the moment for me to mount an intactivist spiel, maybe, but while I’m on the subject: no one should be circumcised as a baby unless it is literally medically necessary. Beyond affecting genital function and health, routine infant genital mutilation (whether of a penis or a clitoris) robs the patient of thousands upon thousands of nerve endings that would enrich their lives. If a person wants elective surgery on their genitals for whatever reason, it’s my opinion that they should do it when they’re old enough to make that weighty decision for themselves in an informed way, rather than having it thrust upon them by archaically-minded parents or doctors.

It’s hard to find.

This myth was a staple of 1990s stand-up comedians’ acts, I guess because it’s hilarious when men think their partners’ pleasure is unimportant or too much work?? What a weird world we live in.

It’s true that the clitoris is usually nested in layers of skin – a hood and two sets of labia – which, combined with its size, make it less visually obvious at first glance than, say, a penis. But once you’ve looked at a few vulvas, it’s hard to miss the clit. It’s the protrusion where the inner labia intersect, and you can usually feel it with your fingers, especially when it starts to harden with arousal. (A particularly memorable Vice cunnilingus guide said that the clitoris feels “like a tumor in a pile of earlobes,” which, while horrifying, effectively illustrates the textural differences between the clit and the skin that surrounds it.)

Frankly, if you regularly fuck people who have clits, and you’ve never taken the time to either find those clits yourselves or ask their owners to point them out, you are not even doing the bare minimum as a sexual partner. I get that it can be anxiety-inducing to do something you’ve never done before, but pleasing your partner is more important than your pride. Figure it out, if just because you’ll feel like more of a Casanova once you do.

 

What are your least favorite myths about the clit?

 

This post was sponsored. As always, all thoughts and opinions are my own.