Musings

8 Reasons the “Squirt is Pee” Study is Bad

Kate Sloan

Recently I was chatting with some friends about the 2015 study that “proved” squirting is the same thing as peeing, and I got incensed afresh about it. You can read the study yourself online if you’re curious, though I’m about to make the case for why you probably shouldn’t.

To be perfectly clear: I am not a scientist, nor am I a doctor. I have, however, been a sex journalist for nearly a decade, so I’m pretty accustomed to reading studies and extracting key findings from them. I first became interested in this study when I wrote a piece about it for Maisonneuve years ago, and I interviewed many experts and key players in the field as part of that project. With all of that said, here are 8 reasons this study is, in my view, not to be trusted…

 

1. It only had seven (7) participants. SEVEN. Many experts agree that studies smaller than about 100 people are unlikely to be statistically significant or predictive of a general population. I asked the lead researcher, Samuel Salama, why he only studied seven women, and he said, “I wish [I had] more, but it is difficult to recruit women who accept to participate to the protocol [sic].” He also claimed that his study was nonetheless the largest one that had been done on the topic, which is in fact false; previous studies done on the squirting-versus-pee debate have included sample sizes as large as 27, and there was even a previous biochemical analysis study on this subject that had 11 participants. (Still not enough, but better than seven, I guess.)

In an interview, I asked a sexual health research coordinator what they thought about this study only having seven participants, and they said this:

“I think, if you only study seven people, that’s just ridiculous. Like, what the fuck. That is not statistically significant in any universe. It doesn’t prove anything. … It’s bonkers! Bonkers! Seven people is like, nothing.”

 

2. The lead researcher seems to have had an axe to grind. I asked lead researcher Samuel Salama why he decided to study this topic, and he told me it was his 3rd-year sexology thesis and that he chose the subject of squirting “because you can read a lot of bullshit on the topic.” This suggests to me that he had already formed an opinion about whether squirting is pee before he even began the study, since he felt all the previous research on it was “bullshit.” Scientists are supposed to keep an open mind about the potential results of their studies; otherwise, the results are prone to being tainted, just like Salama thinks ejaculate is tainted by pee.

 

3. Participants were recruited under odd circumstances. The study’s seven participants were all referred by physicians, which suggests to me that the women themselves, their doctors, and the study creators all viewed squirting as a medical issue rather than a normal part of sexual functioning. This creates a biased dynamic that no doubt would permeate the whole study. Participants were also required to have a BMI that falls within the “healthy” range despite BMI having been long ago debunked as a useful measure of body weight and health.

In an interview, I asked a postdoctoral research fellow at the Centre for Addiction and Mental Health if it could be problematic that all the participants were recruited via their physicians, and she said this:

“It definitely creates limitations on the generalizability of the results. For example, since the sample is limited to a certain set of women who saw these particular physicians and were then referred, we have to consider whether or not there are systematic differences between a) women who choose and/or are able to visit a physician and those who do not or cannot, b) the characteristics of women who visited the specific physicians included in the study versus women who selected different physicians, or c) women who were referred to the study and actually participated, versus women who were referred and chose not to participate, to name a few issues. Thus, the interpretation of the results should be considered within these limitations.”

 

4. It’s cissexist. I mean, it’s certainly not unique among sexological studies in this way, unfortunately, but this is still worth pointing out. So-called “female ejaculation” is a phenomenon that can happen to anyone who has a vagina, not just cis women.

 

5. It took place in a lab setting. This, again, is definitely not unique among sex studies, but I do think it’s worth noting because we just don’t have the same sexual responses in cold, clinical environments as we would have in our own cozy beds. IMO it’s absurd to think that someone getting sexually stimulated in a lab room, while being monitored and measured, would have exactly the same experience of and response to that stimulation as she has at home. As Emily Nagoski, Ph.D., details in her book Come As You Are, stress has a physiologically inhibiting effect on sexual arousal, and thus I don’t think a sex study can be purely effective and accurate in a lab setting. The participants of this study even noted that the amount they squirted during the study was less than they tend to squirt at home, suggesting the results were in fact different than they would be in everyday life.

 

6. The results were inconclusive, but not described as such in the study. This, to me, is the most pressing and obvious reason this study is problematic. The study measured levels of urea, creatinine, uric acid, and prostate-specific antigen (PSA) in each participant’s pee both before sex and after sex, and also measured those levels in each participant’s squirt. Those first three ingredients – urea, creatinine, and uric acid – are found in urine, while PSA is typically not.

If you look at the graphs that lay out the data on what was actually in each sample (click the image to see it larger), you’ll see that the distribution is actually pretty all-over-the-place. Some participants’ squirt (represented by the red bar in each chart) contained medium-to-high levels of the components of urine, while some contained barely any at all. Most participants’ squirt contained a high proportion of prostate-specific antigen compared to other ingredients, which – if anything – supports the idea that squirt is a separate fluid from urine, containing its own unique ingredients.

The writers of the study note early on, “Because normality of data distribution could not be ascertained, we preferred to use the median as the measure of central tendency and minimum–maximum values as the measure of variability.” This is just not a fair or effective way to do a study like this. Even I, as a relative layperson, can glance at these results and see that some of the women’s squirt is scientifically similar to their pee, and some of the women (especially participant #5, and to a lesser extent, #4 and #6) clearly squirt a liquid that is demonstrably different from their urine. You can’t just “average out” the results and decide that a handful of women squirting something chemically similar to pee means all women who ever squirt are squirting pee – especially when the results of your own study don’t even bear that out!

 

7. There’s traces of pee in penile ejaculate, too. It is well-established that semen contains uric acid and urea, probably due to the fact that both urine and semen come from the same hole and will naturally intermingle to some extent. I would argue (as did many of my scientist interviewees) that the same happens for people with vulvas, and that this explains the overlap in chemical makeup between some vulva-possessing people’s urine and ejaculate.

 

And finally… 8. This study will damage, and has damaged, the lives of people who squirt. The hypothesis that squirting = pee has already caused so much pain, stigma, and even trauma in the world. I interviewed Spanish sex educator Diana J. Torres about squirting and they told me stories of women they’ve known who have had their G-spots surgically removed as treatment for “coital incontinence” that was actually just squirting. “Usually science is not separated from politics,” they said, “and in a patriarchal system, it has been instrumentalized to support it.” I have to agree.

In the aftermath of this study being published, headlines circulated worldwide, announcing that squirt was actually just pee. My friend Epiphora launched a “#NotPee” campaign on social media to fight against the stigma and misinformation. Many people replied to say that they’d been shamed for squirting in the past. I hate to think what happens when that shaming escalates to ostracization or even violence.

“I don’t know why they keep revisiting it. I don’t know what the political import is to prove that it’s urine. It seems weird to me,” said philosophy professor (and proud squirter) Shannon Bell when I interviewed her about this. “If you compare it to studies on [penile] ejaculate, there’s almost an investment in women’s ejaculate not being as sexual a fluid… and I would say that’s got a political component to it.” Like Bell, I see this entire debate as being yet another manifestation of the male-dominated science field refusing to believe women and other people of marginalized genders about their own damn bodies.

I’m tired of it. I want better, bigger studies on the subject, that are constructed in more compassionate and sensical ways. But mostly, I just want people to stop caring so much whether squirt is pee and whether pee is gross. There is a lot about sex that could be considered gross, and most of us continue to have it anyway. If you’re actually disgusted by your partner’s pleasure, maybe you should let them go so they can find a partner who actually wants them to have a good time in bed without feeling ashamed of their body and the fluids it produces.

9 Ways to Access Pleasure & Intimacy Without Having Sex

Kate Sloan

What with pandemic stress, chronic pain, and a shifting libido as I get older, sometimes I just don’t feel like having sex, even though I genuinely think my partner is the hottest person in the world. Sexuality is mysterious like that.

That said, I’m lucky enough to be with someone who understands that “standard” sex is not the only way to feel connected to a partner, make them feel good, or express your love for them.

Here are 9 ways you could have a pleasurable, body-based, and/or romantic experience with your partner, without delving into “sex” territory:

 

1. Masturbate together. A classic! I love to do this when I’m too tired/achy to put much actual effort into sex. Bonus points for using a good wand vibrator – it makes getting off much easier for me and also enables me to focus more on my partner because I can just “set it and forget it” on my clit.

2. Just cuddle, without expectations. I remember when I was ~16 and cuddling with a romantic prospect felt like the most exciting, intimate thing in the world. It still can be! If you find it awkward or boring to just lie there, you could watch TV or listen to a podcast together while you snuggle up.

3. Give or receive a massage. There are soooo many styles of massage to learn about and try out, from Swedish massage to Tantric massage to hot stone massage – but even just keeping it super basic with some massage oil and unskilled rubbing can be blissful and connective.

4. Watch comedy or horror together. Weird pairing, I know – but I really do think these genres are two sides of the same coin, neurochemically. If you pick an uproarious comedy or a terrifying horror flick to watch with your sweetie, the two of you will go through some intense feelings together, which can be connective in and of itself – plus you’ll get the endorphin rush associated with laughing super hard or getting scared shitless. (If you need recommendations: my all-time favorite comedies include The Birdcage, Anchorman, The Producers, and Down With Love, while my fave horror movies include Get Out, The Exorcist, Midsommar, and It.)

5. Draw on each other. My friend Casia Sobolewski loves to do this, and first introduced me to its sensual pleasures. Get out an assortment of different-colored markers – ideally the washable kind that kids use, not Sharpies! – and create some art on one another’s bodies. In addition to being a delightful creative project, this also creates a tickly, sensuous feeling on your skin that is truly unique and even kinda sexy.

6. Do spa treatments on each other. My partner is a foot fetishist so I imagine they’d be quite keen to give me a pedicure if I asked; what spa-esque procedures would you find fun to do for a partner? Apply a goopy sheet mask to their face? Shave their legs in a vaguely kinky manner? Moisturize every inch of their skin?

7. Indulge in sadomasochism. Now, certainly it’s debatable whether kink “counts” as “not sex,” since – for many kinky people, myself included – kink scenes often feel like sex and essentially are sex even if there’s no genital contact, orgasms, etc. But it’s good to be reminded that kink is an option for when more conventional/vanilla sex feels inaccessible or unappealing! I can think of few things that make me feel closer to my partner, or more loved by them, than receiving a lengthy hand-spanking, flogging, or paddling.

8. Have a singalong. If one or both of you play an instrument and can do live accompaniment, so much the better! But you can also just pull up some karaoke tracks from YouTube or Spotify, or just sing along to your favorite tunes. Making music with a loved one is tons of fun and feels like a collaborative project, kinda like sex in its own way.

9. Meditate together. If you’re spiritually inclined, or just interested in mindfulness, this could be an interesting couples’ activity. I imagine it’d be grounding and refocusing to hold hands with my partner while we both meditate; afterward, we could talk about how it all felt, and what we thought of the experience.

 

What non-sexual activities do you find sensually pleasing and connective to do with your partner(s)?

 

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

7 Great Reasons to Read Sex Toy Reviews

Kate Sloan

The statistics are in: sex toys have gotten many of us through the pandemic. Sex toy sales are up as much as 600% (depending on whose stats you trust), and anecdotally, it seems that those of us whose toy collections were already large have not only spent time revisiting and enjoying what we already owned, but have, in many cases, expanded our collections even further. (Guilty as charged!) Whether you prefer wholesale sex toys mega-sites like SexToyUnion or just window-shopping at your favorite local erotic boutique, there’s something deliciously uplifting about buying a new sex toy, if it’s your first-ever or even your 1,000th.

I always tell people who are curious about a toy to read the reviews of it. Not just the toy company’s on-site reviews, which are sometimes fabricated and/or very selectively curated – I’m talking about sex toy bloggers’ reviews. I swear I’m not just saying that because I am one of those bloggers – I, too, read multiple reviews (if available) before buying any new toy. While not all bloggers are scrupulous or ethics-focused (and they don’t necessarily have to be – it’s their blog and their life!), many are, and you can oftentimes find more truthful details in a single sex toy review blog post than in a whole slew of bland, insincere 5-star on-site reviews.

Here are 7 reasons you might want to read sex toy reviews more often…

 

1. To help you make a purchasing decision for yourself. There are just too many sex toys out there for you to automatically know what’s good and what isn’t. Trust me – I’ve been in this biz nearly a decade, and while I have a pretty good radar for when a toy will satisfy me or disappoint me, there’s just no way to know for sure, but reading reviews often leads me in the right direction.

Pro tip: look for bloggers whose tastes mirror your own. Many disclose this on their About page or in their reviews. If you know you like intensely pinpointed clitoral stimulation and very slim penetration, for example, you’re probably not gonna get much value from the reviews of a person whose pleasure comes primarily from huge dildos and broad massage wands – although you may still find them plenty entertaining!

 

2. To help you make a purchasing decision for a partner or friend. I have done this many times, in part for the reason discussed above: my tastes are different from other people’s, so if I have a loved one who wants a new sex toy but has vastly different preferences (or anatomy) than my own, reading reviews is the best way for me to figure out if it’ll work for them.

When a close pal asks me for a toy recommendation, generally I’ll do a diagnostic process of sorts, asking them about toys they’ve tried in the past (if any), why they liked or disliked those, and what they’re hoping to get out of a new toy. That gives me a useful filter through which to devour sex toy reviews searching for something that’ll make them happy.

 

3. As foreplay for using the toy. Anyone else do this?! Sometimes when I’m gearing up for a masturbation session with a toy I love, I’ll read other people’s reviews of it, to remind me of what’s so great about it. It’s sort of like reading movie reviews as “foreplay” for seeing the movie – which is to say, some people will hate it because it’ll spoil their experience or influence their perceptions, but some people will love it because it’ll increase their enjoyment of what follows.

 

4. To learn about new features or uses of a toy you already own. Sex toys have gotten so high-tech that many have functions you may not know about, even if you’ve used yours several times. Do you know how to turn off the Smart Silence mode on your We-Vibe Wand? Enable the travel lock on your Fun Factory Big Boss? Loop vibration patterns on your Lovense Lush? Sex toy reviews can often help you learn stuff like this. (Not mine, though, tbh – I have long been burned out on writing up technical details of a toy, and am much more focused on language and narrative since I’m a pretentious artsy fucker – but there are lots of reviewers who write about toys with fantastic amounts of detail, like Felicity from Phallophile Reviews and Cy from Super Smash Cache.)

 

5. To learn about your body. Especially if you have little experience with sex toys and/or masturbating, you may not have a 100% clear sense of why you like or dislike particular toys. I know that it took me years of exploration and research to learn, for instance, that overly aggressive G-spot stimulation without proper warmup feels awful to me, or that buzzy vibrations make my clit want to die.

Like movie critics and music critics, seasoned sex toy critics are armed with contextual knowledge that enables them to describe why a particular toy is good or bad, or at least why some people might love or hate it. Comparing their observations to your own firsthand experiences can teach you a lot of useful lessons about your wants and needs when it comes to sex toys.

 

6. To keep up with trends in the industry. If the sex toy world interests you, but you’re not on the inside of it (i.e. receiving press releases from random vibrator companies on the regular and avidly reading the trades with your friends), it can be hard to keep up with what’s going on in that sphere. It’s like how music critics always seem to know what album is gonna change the world when it drops in a few months, while the rest of us are still listening to our favorite playlists from high school. (No? Just me?)

Learning about the latest and greatest in the sex toy industry is not only interesting – it also helps you make wiser purchasing decisions. For example, you’d be forgiven for thinking high-quality body-safe toys are automatically expensive, because for many years, they were – but reading sex toy reviews regularly can show you that the industry has shifted and now you can get safe toys at a reasonable price.

 

7. For entertainment value. Many sex toy reviewers, like my friend Epiphora or the wonderful Girl on the Net, are very funny! Many are also able to tell compelling stories in the form of a sex toy review (I’m thinking especially of Girl on the Net’s review of the We-Vibe Nova 2, written immediately after her long-term relationship ended, which was far more about the breakup than the toy). I actually think a lot about how to make my reviews interesting not only as reviews but as pieces of writing unto themselves. It’s tricky, but it can be done, and a lot of my favorite pieces of sex writing exist in this space between criticism and entertainment.

 

Why do you like to read sex toy reviews?

 

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

Camshows in Cramped Apartments: Online Sex Work During the Pandemic

Kate Sloan

Online sex work has become even more of a booming business since the COVID-19 pandemic swept the globe. Some sites, like OnlyFans and www.panamecorte.com, have experienced boosts in new memberships as high as 75%. More people than ever are turning to online sex work to supplement their income – and likewise, more people than ever are stuck at home with no access to partnered sexual experiences outside of their interactions with online sex workers. It’s no wonder this industry has seen a massive uptick.

But it’s important to note, too, that the past few years have been some of the hardest ever for sex workers, including those who work predominantly or exclusively online. Laws like SESTA/FOSTA, signed in by Trump in 2018, have severely limited sex workers’ ability to advertise their wares, recruit and vet clients, and get paid for what they do, among other things. There’s also still huge stigma surrounding sex work, despite its proliferation being such that you probably know at least one person who does it, even if you think you don’t. It may be the “oldest profession” but it’s nowhere near the easiest or most fun.

I’ve never been a full-time sex worker, but I’ve done cam shows, made porn videos, and sold nudes occasionally over the past several years – and I have to say, the pandemic has been an interesting time to be in that biz. I’ve gotten more unusual fetish requests than I ever had before, including some that were so extreme I didn’t feel comfortable fulfilling them. It makes me wonder if some people have been exploring their sexualities more deeply over the past year, since “normal life” is on pause and many of us have more time for self-reflection. (Kudos and congrats to those folks for their discoveries!) I think there’s also an element of touch-starvation here – sometimes when you’ve gone a long time without sexual contact, your fantasies can become more “out-there” to make up for the lack of physical stimulation with some additional mental stimulation.

My clients’ communiqué has been different, too – some of them are unusually polite and sweet, presumably because we’re all living through a difficult time so kindness is paramount, while some have been surprisingly brusque and rude, presumably because the conditions of this pandemic are stressful AF and have also atrophied many of our social skills. You would think people would be nicer to sex workers, given what the folks in that industry have been put through these past few years, but nah…

I’ve also had to be more careful about the ways I take payments than ever before, having been burned by whorephobic payment processors and the puritanical laws that try to keep sex workers off all such platforms. It’s gotten so bad that many times I’ve considered giving up sex work completely, and focusing only on my more “respectable” writing work. If you care about sex workers’ livelihoods (which you should), please reach out to your local lawmakers to make that clear, and to demand that they work to repeal laws like SESTA/FOSTA that make sex work much more dangerous and precarious than it needs to be.

Despite all these roadblocks, I’ve still found comfort and solace in doing online sex work (sparingly) over the past year. When a client pays me to put on a cam show or make a sexy custom video, I have to put some effort into my appearance, something I’ve often let slide during this depressing hell-year despite how good it tends to make me feel. I also have to cultivate sexual energy in myself, because it’ll be super obvious if I’m not turned on at all – so sometimes I’ll take the time to do that by using sex toys in a hot bath, or spritzing on a perfume that makes me feel like a bombshell, or just giving myself a sensual mini-massage before filming. Most of my life over the past year has existed inside a computer or a TV, so my connection to my body feels somewhat weakened – and these little preparations help.

It’s a difficult, interesting, painful, yet uplifting time to be a sex worker. If your favorite sexy service provider helped you get through this past year, I hope you’ve been tipping them accordingly, treating them well, and writing to your congresspeople to express your concerns about how sex workers are being treated in the legal system. Shit’s tough out there, and anyone who brings more pleasure into this world – sexual pleasure included – deserves to be praised and rewarded for that tenacious effort.

 

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

5 Things That Are Basically Porn For Me Now

Kate Sloan

It’s no secret that the coronavirus era has massively changed the way many people relate to their own sexualities. Some people are coming out as gay, bi, or pan; some are realizing they’re further toward the asexual end of the spectrum than they realized; some are trying new sex toys, kinks, or positions; some have forgotten what sexual desire in non-stressful times even feels like.

I find all of this deeply relatable and understandable. My own desire levels have waxed and waned countless times during the past year, but mostly they have waned. I’m still having sex regularly, due to the genius ministrations of my lovely spouse, who has read Emily Nagoski’s Come As You Are cover to cover and thus understands how to turn on someone whose sexual brakes are engaged and whose desire is responsive, not spontaneous. But there are also non-sexual things I find nearly as exciting as sex these days, that help me relax and experience simple pleasures in much the same way as sex can.

I abhor those books and articles that joke “porn for women” can be pictures of men doing housework or childcare, as if 1) women have no inherent sexuality and 2) men being functional adults constitutes sexiness all on its own. So that’s not what I’m doing here (and if your domestic partner’s been doing all the dishes or scrubbing all the toilets lately, maybe go do some of that right now). But here are 5 non-sexual things that have consistently given me rushes of near-pornographic pleasure, relaxation, and satisfaction over the past year. They may not be as racy (or as stigmatized) as the most-viewed clips on the top porn sites, but they help me nonetheless.

 

1. Building Sims houses

I had resisted getting into The Sims 4 for ages, despite having adored the original games as a kid/teen, because The Sims 3 didn’t impress me all that much (I thought the open-world-ness of it all was weirdly out of step with the game I’d fallen in love with). But then the pandemic hit, and what was I gonna do, not buy a life simulation game that allows me to travel and socialize and go to work at a time when I couldn’t do any of those things IRL?!

There are a lot of things I love about this latest iteration of the game, most notably that they have better options for your Sims’ gender identity/expression and that there are several super inventive expansion packs, including one called Eco Lifestyle so your Sims can reduce their carbon footprint now (amazing). But the building part of the game is more versatile and fun than ever, so much so that entire communities have sprung up on YouTube, Instagram, etc. focusing on beautiful houses people have built in their games.

I think I find it relaxing and satisfying to build houses in The Sims because it gives me a huge amount of control, at a time when I feel very out of control in the rest of my life. It’s also really neat to watch Sims living their lives in a space I built from the ground up – kind of like how it can be gratifying to build a kink scene for a partner and then usher them through it.

 

2. Loungewear shops

I’ve written about loungewear a lot here over the past year, so I won’t repeat myself too much, but suffice it to say… most days I would rather slither into a crimson modal slip than slide into some Tinder beefcake’s arms (or DMs).

 

3. Flirty fanfiction

Something I learned about myself, in my earliest forays into non-monogamy nearly a decade ago, is that when I’m not allowed to date/kiss/fuck people other than my partner, it’s not the sex I miss most – it’s the flirting.

In fact, many times, I’d rather skip the sex entirely, which I know is not exactly a common stance in the non-monogamy community. But the sex I have with an established partner is so much better than the sex I have with randoms, in part because of my complex web of anxieties, fantasies, kinks, and physical limitations. It’s the flirty banter, the innuendo-laced double-entendres, the rising heat of my own blushing face that I miss most about dating other people.

But since I have neither the energy nor the vaccination status to do that stuff right now, fanfiction is one area where I’m able to live out those flirty fantasies and feel transported into a romantically intriguing life other than my own. Romance novels work great for this too, of course, but sometimes I just don’t have the mental wherewithal to spend time getting to know new characters; I just want to read about characters I already know and love, making each other giggle. Is that so much to ask?

 

4. Comedy, in all its many forms

The three things that got me through this pandemic, above all else: my spouse, my family, and comedy. It’s as simple as that.

Matt and I have torn through multiple comedy TV shows this past year; we’ve (re-)watched practically every comedy movie I’ve ever loved (most recently: School of Rock, an absolute masterpiece of poignant goofiness); we’ve laughed our asses off at weekly live improv shows over Zoom (PLEASE subscribe to the Bad Dog Comedy TV channel on YouTube if you’re into this!). My days and weeks have often felt structured around comedy, oriented towards it. Some people are “workin’ for the weekend”; I’m working to get through the day until I can watch Stephen Colbert or Maya Rudolph or Tom Hearn or Catherine O’Hara at night.

Matt sometimes semi-jokes that watching comedy together is the best foreplay for me, and I think they’re right on the money with that theory. It helps distract me from the troubles of the day, ease my physical and mental tension, and flood my body with endorphins. It made this year bearable for me, which is no small thing at all.

 

5. Poetry in the bath

Modern poets like Rachel Rabbit White, Shane Koyczan, and Zoe Whittall have inspired me deeply over the course of this pandemic. I’ve devoured their books, and various other poetry tomes, at lightning speed. I’ve even started writing poetry myself, something I hadn’t done with any degree of seriousness in many years, despite it being a favorite hobby in high school (I even won some contests and got published in some anthologies back then). It feels like a way to rediscover beauty in a world currently so stripped of it.

Reading poetry in the bath is particularly hedonistic. I’ll usually load up the tub with some scented bath salts, light a candle, and lay down in the hot water with my waterproof Kindle in hand. I take my time with each poem, trying to absorb its artful words and its layers of meaning. I build a little world for myself in the tub, glittering and beguiling, in a way that everyday life once was and might be again someday. It makes me feel like a normal human again, despite everything that’s going on.

Poetry “frees us from the tyranny of the sentence,” says Rachel Rabbit White; “poetry is play.” We could all use some freedom from tyranny after the year we’ve had. We could all use some play.

 

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