Helen: I guess you’re right. You seem to know yourself pretty well.
This dialogue from the movie Kissing Jessica Stein sums up exactly why it took me so long to realize I liked doing cock & ball torture (a.k.a. CBT, not to be confused with cognitive-behavioral therapy). I thought I knew myself well enough to already know, more-or-less, which kinks could appeal to me and which simply couldn’t. But I was wrong about that.
My first CBT experience
My first few penis’ed partners had no interest in genital torture – and to be fair, neither did I – so it wasn’t until my mid-twenties that I encountered someone who wanted me to hurt his dick.
He brought it up during a late-night handjob. We hadn’t been dating for very long, and I was still trying to get a grasp on what worked for him, so to speak. I hadn’t been able to make him come yet, despite ample effort and interest; I had only occasionally laid beside him in bed while he got himself off instead.
Tonight I’d wanted to give it another go, but his dick still seemed unimpressed. So I floundered, technique-wise, trying anything I could think of, until… he put his hand on mine, to pause my stroking, and said, simply: “Pinch the skin as hard as you can.”
I remember thinking: As HARD as I CAN?!Are you SURE?!
But lo and behold, when I picked a spot on his shaft and followed his instruction, within seconds he was coming all over my hands.
That relationship didn’t last long, for a whole host of reasons (some sexual, some less so), but it taught me some important lessons that I would take with me into the rest of my sex & dating life – including that dick pain could be a turn-on for some people, and that apparently I was one of those people.
Why I like CBT now
It’s been nearly a decade since that initial pinchy handjob that kicked everything off, and I’ve done a fair bit more CBT since then. I’m certainly no pro, like the ballbusting experts you’ll see on clip sites and at certain fetish parties (you know who you are!), but I do it semi-regularly and with relish. Here are a few reasons I like topping for CBT…
• Hurting people who want to be hurt is hot! I wouldn’t enjoy slapping someone’s dick around unless they really, really wanted me to, because masochists’ desire for pain and positive responses to pain are what make the interaction sexy to me, for the most part. Someone begging you to hurt them, if you’re both into that, can be as hot as someone begging you to fuck them, and for the same reasons: it means they want you and they trust you. That’s high praise!
• Penises are culturally weighty. Slapping someone’s cock is really different from slapping, say, their ass or their face. Not only does it feel very physically different because of the different concentrations of nerve endings involved; it also feels pretty different psychologically for both the top and the bottom. People’s feelings about their own genitals may relate to their understandings of gender, power, desirability/attractiveness, and more, and all of that may come up during CBT play (which is part of why pre-negotiation and aftercare are so important!). Likewise, I know my own feelings about CBT as a top are influenced by cultural baggage I’ve absorbed about dicks; over the course of my life, I have felt afraid of them, fascinated by them, desirous of them, and often some combination thereof, so it’s an interesting experience psychologically to inflict consensual pain on one.
• New routes to pleasure/orgasm are cool! Few things are sexier to me than seeing someone being overwhelmed by pleasure, especially unexpectedly intense pleasure – and even though I’ve made my partner come many times by slapping their cock at this point, I still find it astonishing every single time. Aside from that one experience with a previous partner that I described above, neither my spouse nor I had played with this kink to this extent before, so it feels intimate and sweet that we’ve found this new-to-us way to share pleasure through pain.
How about you, dear reader? Are you a CBT aficionado, or is it a bridge too far for your delicate, uh, sensibilities? 😉
This post contains a sponsored link. As always, all writing and opinions are my own.
So perfect, in fact, that I was FURIOUS when someone in my building STOLE THE PACKAGE containing my custom-made dong, before I was able to retrieve it from outside my door.
And so perfect, indeed, that when Valm sweetly offered to just mail me another one, I was so delighted that all my anger at the anonymous dildo thief dissipated in the wind. I hope they’re enjoying my dildo, wherever they are. I know I am.
That gradient tho
Customization options
In terms of shape and size, Valm’s dildo options are simple and straightforward: there’s a 6-inch version, an 8-inch one (which is the one I chose to review, because my vagina is Goldilocks, apparently), a 10-inch and a 12-inch. Size queens/kings/monarchs, take note!
Each size option is available in 3 different silicone formulations: single-density, dual-density, and triple-density. Multi-density silicone is often used to make dildos feel more realistic – it means that the toy has a firm silicone core, with one or two layers of softer silicone on top. This creates a more lifelike penis-esque feeling, and also allows a dildo to be firm enough to stroke internal erogenous zones while also being squishy enough to be super comfortable.
The more silicone densities a dildo has, the more realistic it tends to feel – but more densities also means a higher price, so keep that in mind when making a decision. For instance, the dildo I’m reviewing is dual-density and costs $161, while the single-density and triple-density versions of the same size cost $117 and $191, respectively.
Most glorious of all is the color options. You can get Valm toys in a couple of different skin tones or various bright colors. They’re also able to do custom gradients. I thought long and hard (dick joke barely intended) about what I wanted, and eventually settled on a gradient: the dildo is neon orange fading into hot pink toward the base of the shaft. Words and photos cannot do justice to how eye-gougingly bright it is IRL. It is technicolor. It is camp. It is 1960s (like this Gala Darling outfit). I love it so much.
Things I like about this dildo
The colors. Have I mentioned the colors?! This thing is soooo bright!
The dual-density silicone does indeed feel really real. The head is especially squishy, which allows it to nudge up into my A-spot easily without bothering my cervix (unless I’m especially zealous). It’s firmer through the shaft, which is ideal, IMO, but still soft enough to give me that satisfying stress-ball-squish feeling when I come around it.
The size is great for me. While the dildo is 8” in total, its insertable length is 7.25”, so it can reach my A-spot with ease. The diameter is 1.65”, which manages to feel both pleasantly filling and ultra-comfortable for me (when I’m turned on enough, of course).
The coronal ridge, while not as pronounced as those I’ve seen on some other dildos, juts out enough that it feels amazing each time it strokes over my A-spot. Once I get this dildo nestled as deep as I want it, I barely have to move it in and out at all to get some pretty intense A-spot stimulation.
With its balls and suction cup base, this dildo is anal-safe, strap-on compatible, and can be stuck to hard flat surfaces for hands-free use (like shower walls, kitchen floors, or glass coffee tables – hey, you do you). The chunky base works well as a handle when thrusting, even on days when my hands are sore.
The surface of the silicone is unusually glide-y (as opposed to draggy) when well-lubricated, so I can thrust it fast and hard without encountering much resistance – which some people might not like, if they enjoy a lot of friction against their vaginal or anal walls, but I like it because it means my hands and arms don’t get sore from thrusting this dildo.
Things I don’t like about this dildo
Its shaft is quite straight, so if you’re looking for a G-spot-focused dildo, look elsewhere. As mentioned, I love this toy for A-spot stim, but that’s not everyone’s jam, and that’s fine.
The hyper-realistic ridges and folds around the head of the dildo, which are meant to look like (and indeed do look like) the corresponding features on a human penis, are pronounced enough on this toy that they can be mildly annoying to clean. Get in there with an old toothbrush or a washcloth and you should be fine.
The price points of these dildos are somewhat high compared to other dual-density options I’ve seen, but they are made in the USA, which I’m sure is part of the reason for that and which may justify the cost for some buyers.
Final thoughts
To me, the Valm dual-density 8-inch is the Platonic ideal of a realistic dildo. Gorgeous colors. Pleasurable shape. Not too big, not too small, but just right (for me, anyway!). Firm where it needs to be, and squishy where it needs to be. Versatile, chameleonic, a cock-of-all-trades.
Wherever my first one ended up, I hope its thief sees its simple brilliance and beauty as clearly as I do.
This post was sponsored, meaning I was paid to write a fair and honest review of this product. As always, all writing and opinions are my own.
In 2024, every time I became obsessed with a song – wanted to listen to it constantly, to roll around in it, live inside it – I would add it to this playlist.
I do this most years, and it’s one of my favorite traditions, because it always leaves me with an evocative musical diary of my year, one that will catapult me right back to this time in my life when I listen to it again in future years. Not every track on the list was recorded or released this year – they’re all just songs that mattered to me a lot in 2024, no matter when they’re from.
Long-time readers might remember that I used to highlight my favorite songs for you at the end of every year (2019, 2020, 2021, 2022), and I’d like to do the same for you this year. Here are 9 songs that got me through 2024, songs that lit me up, made me think, turned me on, struck a chord. (Why 9, and not 8 or 10? Well, 9 is just how many I loved enough to include here and had something substantial to say about.)
The best way to read this post (IMO) is to hit ‘play’ on each song before you start reading about it. I hope you enjoy these sonic gems as much as I do! 🎶💖
“[To be] sexy to somebody, it would help me out/ Oh, I need a reason to get out of the house/ And it’s just a little thing I can’t live without”
My uncle Kevan (himself a legend in Canadian punk rock in the ’80s) sent me this one, because he likes the production on it, which is indeed excellent: vibey, groovy, quirky. But it was the song’s lyrics that hooked me immediately. “Sexy to someone is all I really want,” sings the cherubic Clairo; “sometimes sexy to someone is all I really want.”My cousin Sean called this “some of the most unambitious flirting I’ve ever heard,” which made me laugh, because I have the same ambition as Clairo in this regard, and I agree with Sean that it’s not exactly a big ask: I want to feel like someone finds me sexy, at least some of the time.
That feeling, of being wanted and knowing you’re wanted (even if just by one person in the whole entire world), is like a jangly shot of espresso in my veins. It gets me up and gets me out of the house, as Clairo says, and it also gets me creating, smiling, giggling, blushing, and (let’s be honest) jerking off more often.
Like me, Clairo seems to view this sexy energy as a life-sustaining force, “something I see in everything,” which pools and flows throughout your life like “honey sticking to your hands, sugar on the rim.” I’m at my best when I feel wanted and am wanting in return. Despite all the spiritual books I’ve read which decried desire as the root of all misery, I think I’m at my happiest when I’m caught in a hot spiral of want.
“If you keep up with me, I’ll keep on coming back/ If you do it too good, I’m gonna get attached/ ‘Cause it feels like heaven when it hurts so bad/ Baby, put it on me – I like it just like that”
Speaking of “a reason to get out of the house,” this was my go-to song whenever I had a hard time getting out of bed this year. Even on bad fibro days, I still wanted to dance to this one!
In my line of work, one of the questions I get asked most often is, “I’m into [insert kink or sexual practice here]; am I normal?” I always try to explain to people that sexual ‘normalcy’ is a meaningless construct, and is hardly worth aspiring to anyway (do you really want to have the most average sex life on the block?!). But usually they keep fretting nonetheless – probably because, at their core, they’re afraid that their desires make them undesirable, unloveable, or broken, when in reality, they just need to find partners they’re compatible with.
For that reason, I love this song’s iconic refrain, “Is somebody gonna match my freak?” Tinashe is such a charismatic, captivating performer both dance-wise and vocally that the sentiment comes across confident as hell: no sniveling about wanting to be normal, but rather, wholeheartedly embracing that one is not ‘normal,’ and daring all potential suitors to keep up. We should all be so lucky as to find somebody who ‘matches our freak,’ whatever that happens to mean for us.
“Made me die, made me melt/ You have changed the way I felt/ With your touch, with your help/ You took a pessimist and turned me into something else”
To me this song sounds like walking home on a winter’s night after a really great fourth or fifth date, thinking, “Jesus, this thing might actually have legs.” It’s that almost-falling-in-love feeling, that oh-shit-what-the-fuck feeling, hands jittering in your mittens. Michaels’ bell-like soprano pings through the curtains of snow like a streetlamp lighting the way forward: “I think I see a lifetime.”
With so much going wrong in the world this year (to say the fucking least), I spent a lot of time thinking about hope. It’s hard to stay optimistic in such a fucked-up time, even though we need some optimism in order to keep going. One thing I have noticed in myself over and over again is that romance is an almost-endless wellspring of optimism for me, able to replenish my hope when it’s run dry. Whatever neurochemical hell is wrought on my system by doomscrolling, the opposite effect is achieved when I get a text from the cutie I’m crushing on, or when I go out for an intimate dinner with my spouse, or even when I obsess about a celebrity I think is hot. It’s that same life force again, the one Clairo was talking about.
I relate to this song deeply, because my spouse indeed “took a pessimist and turned me into something else.” Our love is the biggest, best thing I’ve ever experienced in my life, and because we’re polyamorous, I have the freedom and capacity to experience other big loves in the future – something which only really seems possible to me because of how incredible my love story with my spouse has been and continues to be. If it happened once, something similar could always happen again, albeit in different and unexpected ways. It’s one of the things I treasure about non-monogamy, and it’s one of the many reasons I’m glad I’m not such a pessimist anymore.
“What the hell is a blouse? … Is it dissimilar to a baggy shirt?/ Or a sail too small for a boat to work?/ A pillowcase, but with a place for arms?/ A V-neck with exceptional grace and charms?/ A classic tee that got loose and swollen?/ A button-up with all the buttons stolen?”
And now, for something completely different…
This song made me laugh more than any other this year. I would listen to it when I was sad sometimes, because its silliness cracks me up, like when Zach & Jess refer to blouses as “the apparel enigma, the Stonehenge of clothes.”
At one point this year, I was standing in line waiting to get my book signed at a Casey McQuiston reading, and the people behind me got into an animated discussion of the very question asked by this song: “What is a blouse?!” It took all of my strength not to turn around, whip out my phone, and play them the track!
“I’ve learned to apologize/ Learned to trust somebody with my body, I/ learned there’s a life outside my eyes”
Atwell has described this song as “a bit of a private joke” with her partner: the two of them lived across from a co-op that was always playing music that would get stuck in their heads when they went there. One day Bess came back humming, and her partner said, “Did you even go to the co-op if you don’t come back singing the pop song that was on?” which later became the refrain of this tune. (“You said I couldn’t fit that in a song,” Atwell adds teasingly on the second repetition.)
It’s a song about domesticity, about living in close quarters and loving it. It reminds me dearly of the time I spent crammed into tiny apartments with my beloved during the early pandemic – six months at their place in New York, four months at mine in Toronto. The soothing familiarity of our routines kept me sane during that wild time.
It’s also a song about finally being able to relax with somebody, after the tumult of trauma. I, too, have “learned to trust somebody with my body.” There are many ways to help that process along, but one of them (for me, at least) is to have these comforting rituals I share with my partner, whether they be devouring Netflix dating shows after work, attending our favorite improv show on Sunday nights, or even going to the co-op.
“I love my broke boy/ Not a billionaire baller or dough boy/ Used to give him cash so he could get some gas/ ‘Cause he knows how to give me that O, boy!/ Still-lives-at-home boy/ Ain’t got a house or a plane or a Rolls Royce/ There’s no credit card that’s gonna buy my heart/ ‘Cause I gave it all to a broke boy”
I think this is an… anticapitalist love song?! Fuck yeah! More of this, please!
I’ve been a fan of Malia Civetz’s big bold voice and top-notch songwriting for a few years now, and while her song “Is It You?” was my #1 most-played song this year (it’s a banger), “Broke Boy” is the one I have the most fondness for at the moment.
I just love how plainly Malia lays it out in this song: Being broke doesn’t make you unworthy of love. Romance is commonly depicted as an expensive endeavor – dates, meals, gifts, etc. – but it doesn’t have to be, because human connection itself is free. And as Malia points out, her broke boy may not be able to afford fancy vacations around the world, but it’s okay, ’cause he “took [her] on a trip with just the tip of his tongue.” 😜
“As soon as I had a place to go, I went/ There’s gotta be more to life than paying rent/ I said what I said, so I wouldn’t have to say/ what I wasn’t ready to tell you”
I never thought there would be another Softies album in my lifetime. There hadn’t been any for 24 years. And then, just like magic, they put out a new one. I practically started hyperventilating when I found out.
I’ve loved the Softies’ sweet voices and mellow guitars since I was about 12 years old, when a listener of my podcast (yes, I had a podcast in 2004… it’s a long story) sent me a digital mixtape. In that .zip file were many songs I still adore to this day, like “All the Umbrellas in London” by the Magnetic Fields and “Chick Habit” by April March… but there was also the Softies, and I fell down that rabbit hole hard, begging my mom to let me use her credit card to order their CDs online. I’ve been a fan ever since, and hope to be able to see them play live someday.
This song has stuck with me most from the latest album, for whatever reason. As with many Softies songs, its lyrics are vague enough that it could mean many different things, but for me it evokes a woman who’s ending things with her male partner upon realizing she’s gay (which incidentally I also wrote a song about once). It’s bittersweet in that way – affectionate, but at arm’s length; compassionate, but cutting ties. And because it’s the Softies, it floats and soars like sunshine on clouds, jazz chords as plainspoken as love.
“Oh, can we take this slow?/ Everybody’s always known/ but I didn’t want to admit/ And when we’re cheek to cheek/ I feel it in my teeth/ and it’s too good to resist”
I first listened to this one because the aforementioned romance author Casey McQuiston cited it as one of their inspirations while writing The Pairing, easily my favorite romance novel I’ve ever read, which also happens to be a very fucking sexy book. Accordingly, as you might expect, this song is overflowing with lust and swagger. It’s about the immutability of desire: “If you want-want what you want-want, then you want it.” It’s as simple as that.
But while lust itself may seem straightforward, it can lead us into situations that are anything but. Rogers’ agile voice flips between airy softness and throaty bravado as she wavers about whether to fuck a long-time friend, first-time lover: “I hold my breath and count the times I walked my feet up to the line…” How exhilarating, then, to finally cross it.
The driving rhythm of this song feels like the locomotive momentum of lust itself, chugging along even when you wish you could throw the brake. But it’s nearly impossible to get off that train; you really “can’t hide what you desire once you’re on it… and I want you.”
“I wanna buy you chocolate hearts from CVS/ Kiss you too hard and follow you west/ Sing you sad songs on a Sunday afternoon/ Yeah, I think I’d like to tie you in ways that you can’t undo/ Dinner in bed and Korean food/ Say ‘I love you’ just a little bit too soon”
The lead singer of Winnetka Bowling League (one of my most-played artists this year), Matthew Koma, is married to Hilary Duff, which is why she has a cameo in this music video. And it’s sweet to see the two of them together, because this song is all about love.
In working on this post, I’ve noticed some throughlines in the songs I’ve loved most this year. A lot of them seem to be about new love, and finding hope in the possibility of new connections. This song is such a lovely manifestation of that – it’s about jumping the gun in a new relationship, wanting to get closer and closer, wanting to fall in love, or noticing you’ve already started to. It’s also about the eerie feeling that you might’ve just met the person you’re gonna spend forever with, something I felt a shade of when I first met my spouse: “In a dream, your future had a voice, and he spoke like me…”
I like that this song also draws your attention to the artificiality of romance, at least the type of romance you can buy from a CVS. One of the dumbest things about love is that we can find ourselves performing these cardboard rituals of romance, not because we necessarily believe in them, but just because our feelings are so damn big, we have to let them out any way we can.
What songs did you enjoy most this year, my darlings?
One of my personal pet peeves as a creator is when people brag about refusing to pay for the art they enjoy, as if it’s something to be proud of. If you like art, it’s important to pay for it – at least some of the time!
Now, don’t get me wrong – obviously financial difficulties can make this hard or impossible, and I see art as a basic human necessity, which is why I think it’s so great that plenty of art (including porn) is legitimately available for free.
But if you can afford to pay for artistic works that matter to you, I think you should, at least some of the time. I’ve partnered with Bunny Agency for this post, in which I’ll tell you a few key reasons your favorite porno babes deserve your cash…
Money allows art to continue to exist!
This is really the crux of the thing. Art can’t be made (at least not consistently and well) without money, because artists are people, and people require money to survive. It’s as simple as that.
It’s hard as fuck to be a creator these days, especially in the adult industry. Social media algorithms deboost us, search engines derank us, payment processors ban us… As a result of all this, many of us are barely scraping by. But the more money we make from our actual art, the more time we can spend making that art – since we won’t have to spend as much time stressing about money and working other jobs to make ends meet.
It drives me completely nuts when I see people complaining about paywalls on news articles, and in the same breath, complaining about news publications’ incomplete coverage of certain issues, or lackluster factchecking. Consumers paying for their news is what enables newsrooms to hire more/better journalists and factcheckers! And just like the news, porn cannot continue to exist if no one pays for it, because creators gotta have food, shelter, and the tools of their trade in order to create.
Get exactly what you want!
For those of us with very particular erotic tastes, we may have trouble finding porn that lines up with our desires. But many porn performers offer custom clips, so you can lay out your fantasy and receive bespoke porn that fulfills it.
In talking to friends of mine who’ve created and/or purchased custom clips, I’ve come to think of customs as being almost like tattoos, in that you should pick an artist who’s well-versed in the style and content you’re looking for, tell them what you want, and let them put their own spin on it. They will often surprise you in ways that your own limited imagination cannot!
Own, not stream!
Often (although not always), if you pay for a porn video, you can download it and keep it on your own hard drive, rather than being beholden to fickle hosting sites and inconsistent streaming speeds.
Ever gone to watch a porn clip you bookmarked online, and found yourself on a 404 error page instead? Ever gotten horny while stuck in a no-cell-service zone? It’s in these situations that I’m most grateful for the videos I have bought and saved!
Support artists!
Despite whorephobic rumors to the contrary, Onlyfans modeling (& similar) is not an easy gig! Creators often act as their own photographer/cinematographer, editor, marketing director, and business manager. They endure sexual harassment, malicious credit card chargebacks, and sex work stigma. They go through a lot, and they deserve to get paid for their hard work, same as anybody else does!
Just as Bandcamp sales are wildly more lucrative than Spotify streams for musicians, porn performers get way more money when you actually buy their content than when you just stream it for free (which earns them about 69 cents per thousand views). So, if you like your favorite porn stars and want them to be able to stay in the biz, support them when you can!
This post was sponsored. As always, all writing and opinions are my own.
It’s a terrifying time to be queer or trans – but especially to be trans.
In the months leading up to this latest U.S. election, unhinged right-wingers called queer people groomers and pedophiles, cruelly politicized the horrific deaths of trans people, and spent $215 million on anti-trans attack ads. (God, can you imagine if that money had gone to something actually useful instead, like housing or famine relief?)
Republicans are unsettled by us, not just because so few of us vote for them (I mean, why the fuck would we?!) but because of what we represent: that sexuality and gender are neither fixed nor binaristic, and that this means gender- and sex-based power hierarchies are, and have always been, artificial and meaningless.
I also suspect there’s a tinge of subconscious jealousy coloring the behavior of these bigots – not because I think they’re necessarily queer or trans themselves, but because I think many of them feel trapped in the scripted tedium of conservative cis-hetero life, and are furious at us for daring to build our own lives and be our own selves, instead of grabbing ready-mades off the shelf.
But while Republicans spewing vile hatred is to be expected, what’s more surprising is when members of the LGBTQ+ community throw each other under the bus. There have always been people who do this, but we’re seeing more and more of it since the election: many Democrats, some of whom are queer, have theorized that trans rights were a sticking point that may have lost us the election, or have essentially argued that we need to “pick our battles” and that basic civil rights for trans people are not a battle worth picking.
This, obviously, is despicable. It’s despicable not only because abandoning an already-disadvantaged community is cruel, and not only because every human being deserves human rights, but also because queer struggles and trans struggles go hand-in-hand. Right-wing zealots hate queer people for many of the same reasons they hate trans people, and vice-versa.
I mean, hell, plenty of them don’t even know the difference between being queer and being trans! They hold a deep-seated hatred toward sexual and gender transgressors (…except for cis male rapists, apparently, to whom they give jobs instead), and they paint that hatred across all of us with a very broad brush. We don’t all get treated the same, and certainly some of us are more privileged than others (myself included, as a white queer cis lady who can ‘pass’ as straight in some situations) – but the hatred levelled against all of us, I believe, originates in more-or-less the same place.
This is why our social and political goals have long been aligned, this is why we have often grouped ourselves under the LGBTQ+ umbrella, and this is why it’s absurd to me when cis queers don’t care about trans issues. As the pastor Martin Niemöller reminds us in his famous 1946 poem “First they came…,” your obedience and silence will not save you from the wrath of the fascists. They will come for you, too. The Leopards Eating People’s Faces party will eat a queer face just as readily, and just as happily, as they’ll eat a trans one.
So, when I say that LGBTQ+ people are not going back, I mean that we refuse to give up our hard-won rights and freedoms – and I also mean that we should never go back to being a splintered group with disparate goals and dissenting strategies. We need to band together now more than we ever have before. We need to have each other’s backs. We need to fight this madness and take care of each other and ourselves at the same time. It’s the only fucking way forward.
If you’re on board with that goal, here are some concrete things you can do:
• If you are in the U.S., please contact your senators, your state legislators, and even your local politicians, to state unequivocally that you refuse to tolerate a backslide in rights and protections for LGBTQ+ people, and that you will take your vote elsewhere next election if they cannot commit to action on this. Julia Serano has a script you can borrow if you’re not sure what to say.
• You also might consider donating to organizations that help individual trans people directly, like GLITS, the Trans Lifeline, or a mutual aid fund in your community.
