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

Kate Sloan

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.

Busting 5 Common Myths About the G-Spot

Kate Sloan

The G-spot is one of the most misunderstood parts of sexual anatomy, so let’s dive into some of the most common G-spot myths and why they’re total garbage!

 

Myth #1: G-spot stimulation is always pleasurable for everybody who has a G-spot.

Here’s a pro tip when it comes to sex: literally any sentence that begins with “everyone likes…” or “no one likes…” is false. So, although the G-spot is often framed as this holy grail of pleasure for many people with vulvas, it’s important to know that it’s not a magic button that you can just press and expect fireworks.

Many people – including me, at one point – find G-spot stimulation uncomfortable, annoying, or even painful. This doesn’t automatically mean they won’t find penetration pleasurable at all, though; there are other internal erogenous zones worth exploring, such as the A-spot and the posterior fornix.

 

Myth #2: It’ll feel good from the get-go.

I especially need cis men to understand this: please do not start poking ‘n’ stroking the G-spot of someone who is not already turned on, unless you know for a fact that they want you to do so.

Like many other erogenous zones, the G-spot typically responds best to stimulation that happens once you’re already aroused, both physically and mentally. For me personally, it really is the difference between “ow ow ow stop that right now” and “oh my god please never stop.”

Get turned on (or get your partner turned on) using whatever methods reliably work for you. For most vulva-owners, this will involve some amount of clitoral stimulation – and in many cases it can feel good to continue stimulating the clit while you start to touch the G-spot. I would also suggest using a lot of lube and starting slowly, like with just one finger and minimal pressure against the spot, until you’re ready for more.

 

Myth #3: G-spot orgasms are superior to clitoral orgasms.

Remember that time a cis male neurologist from 19th-century Austria theorized that clitoral orgasms were “immature” and that becoming an adult meant getting off from vaginal penetration alone? And remember how this crackpot theory has continued to shape present-day sexual discourse, leading millions of women to feel like they’re broken because their bodies work in completely normal ways? Cool cool cool. Thanks, Freud, that’s super helpful of you. 😬

What we know now, based on modern science (including the practice of, y’know, actually listening to the stories and experiences of people with vulvas, rather than making up psychoanalytic lore about how their genitals are wrong), that the clitoris is the anatomical equivalent of the penis. The two structures literally develop from the same tissues in utero, and share some commonalities, namely: they both provide the majority of sexual pleasure for the majority of people who have them.

While we’re on the subject, let’s clear up a few more misconceptions about G-spot stimulation vs. clitoral stimulation. First of all, you can combine the two, and many people have their best G-spot experiences when the two are paired. Secondly, not everyone can have G-spot orgasms, and there is nothing wrong with you if you can’t. And thirdly, researchers have yet to firmly conclude whether the G-spot is its own structure or is in fact part of the internal clitoral network, but ultimately it doesn’t really matter because it’s still a spot that feels good for many people to touch. Let’s focus less on pedantic semantics and more on pleasure, mmkay?

 

Myth #4: G-spot stimulation always results in squirting, or squirting only happens from G-spot stimulation.

Nope and nope. Not everyone can squirt, either because they just haven’t stumbled upon the right technique to make it happen for them yet, or because they’re simply not set up for it anatomically. (For example, I once heard the porn star Nina Hartley, who used to be a nurse, saying that she believes the reason she can’t squirt is that her urethra is located too close to her vagina, so whatever’s stimulating her G-spot gets in the way of the spray and stops it from coming out.)

If you want to squirt, or to help somebody else squirt, typically the best thing to do is to build a lot of arousal beforehand and then stimulate the G-spot really hard and fast for long enough to induce squirting. The ejaculation itself does not automatically coincide with orgasm; I tend to squirt the most after I’ve orgasmed, for instance.

Some people are able to squirt without G-spot stimulation being involved at all – such as from touching their clit, A-spot, or perineum. This may have something to do with the G-spot’s aforementioned integration in the internal clitoral network.

 

Myth #5: You have to have a big dick to hit the G-spot.

This one really depends on anatomy. I’m not going to lie to you and say that nobody will require a dick to be big in order for it to hit their spot the way they like.

That said, the G-spot is only about 2-3 inches inside the vagina, so you don’t have to have a long dick to hit it – and in fact, I’ve often found that short-to-average-length dicks hit mine the best, because the head of their cock strokes over that spot without much effort on every thrust, whereas longer dicks tend to hit my A-spot instead.

A penis also does not necessarily need to be thick to stimulate the G-spot. Angles that tilt your dick toward the front wall of the vagina can achieve a lot. Not to mention – say it with me now – fingers and sex toys exist! If you’re thinking of your cock as the only sexual tool you have at your disposal, you’re limiting your partner’s pleasure, and your own, a great deal.

 

What G-spot myths have you heard?

 

This post was sponsored by the folks at Honey Play Box, who are offering Girly Juice readers 20% off all products right now with the coupon code JUICE20. As always, all writing and opinions here are my own.

What a Trip to Italy Taught Me About Pleasure, Purpose, & Power

Kate Sloan

It has been more than five years since my first (and, so far, only) trip to Italy, and I still think about it pretty often.

It was a glorious few days that my mum generously tacked onto the end of a trip we were taking to Malta for a cousin’s wedding. We figured, “when in Rome” (or, more accurately, “when in the Mediterranean”), might as well splurge on ourselves as a fun, once-in-a-lifetime kind of thing. We stayed in the gorgeously ornate Bernini Bristol hotel. Our room overlooked the Piazza Barberini, which contains the famous Fontana del Tritone (Triton Fountain). At night, after luxuriant dinners of rich pasta and fine wine, we’d visit the fountain, throw coins in, and make wishes.

Once, I wished for romance, but it was already all around me; the city itself was romance. Earlier that evening, we’d been winked at by a waiter, who’d asked us after our meals if we wanted “dessert, or anything else.” We’d strolled down the street to a gelateria and had a wine-flirty conversation with the nervous employee behind the counter as he scooped up our treats. And now, at the fountain, as I breathed in the cool night air and contemplated my wish for romance, a dark-haired man approached us and handed me two red roses. He said something in Italian that I didn’t understand, but I think I heard bella somewhere in there. I said Grazie, grazie! and wished I knew more words to thank him as he walked away.

Everything in Rome seemed sensual and quasi-sexual to me in a way I rarely felt at home. Maybe it was just the excesses of vacation, but it felt woven into the fabric of the city, too. The resplendent meals. The ambient chatter of people passing you in a piazza. The click of cobblestones against your heels.

There was a slick salesman at a leather goods shop who sweet-talked us into buying leather jackets. I know his flirtation was a sales technique, but it felt more like seduction or sex giochi (that’s Italian for “sex games,” mio caro!). Our interaction lasted at least an hour, and was far longer and more relaxed than any sales transaction I’d ever experienced – he made us feel like we were visiting his home. He pulled jackets and skirts and boots in our sizes from the racks all around us, and implored us in his elegant accent, “Just try it on.” And every time we emerged from the dressing room, he’d make us feel like runway models, with the intensity of his gaze and the specificity of his compliments.

We wore those leather jackets the day we sprinted to catch up with our tour group so we could traverse the Roman Forum, explore the Colosseum. The chill in the air wasn’t depressing, like on dark Toronto nights that portended cold Toronto winters; the crisp breeze in Rome actually felt flirtatious, caressing our skin, reminding us we were lucky to be able to feel such things, lucky just to be alive in this world.

Our lunches and dinners were so obscenely pleasurable that I still think about them five years later, like the indelible look in a long-lost lover’s eyes that you still recall fondly after they’ve gone. The endless embrace of butter and cheese. The free-flowing wine, encouraging us to laugh, light up, and look around with gratitude at our lovely lives. The waitstaff, who acted as though any kind of restraint or self-flagellation related to food would be not only misguided but in fact not worth talking about at all.

I remember the day we planned to go to the Vatican; I realized in horror that the clothes I’d packed were deeply ill-suited for the hallowed institution’s conservative dress code. Pants and long sleeves were required, but these were rare in my relaxed hyper-femme aesthetic, so instead I wore a prim cardigan buttoned up to the top, and loud floral-print leggings under my black dress.

Perusing the statues, paintings, and altars, I felt bowled over by all that history – like time itself was topping me in a hardcore kink scene and the only thing to do was surrender.

When we filed into the Sistine Chapel and gazed up at the ceiling, I felt a peacefulness and rapture I’d previously only ever experienced after taking a lot of pain in a scene. The stillness and reverence in the room were overwhelming. I barely dared to move or even breathe. The art had a message for me: that I should appreciate the present moment, drink in beauty wherever it shows up, savor every second of precious life. I felt humbled by the holiness of the chapel, rendered more whole by its wholeness.

Sometimes I watch media set in Italy and feel, once again, that creepy and comforting feeling of being in a place so old and well-worn that it takes on a godly quality. I look at the red lipstick adorning so many Italian women’s faces and think of the Armani lipstick I bought in the Sephora opposite the Spanish Steps, and the way applying it felt like casting a magic spell. I flip through my photos of lush countrysides and ornate architecture, longing to live that life again.

Someday I’ll go to Italy with my spouse, I suspect, and we’ll make new memories every bit as juicy and jubilant as these. But until then, I’ll keep visiting Rome in my daydreams, learning its lessons again and again: to enjoy the here and now, to revel in pleasure without guilt, and to view myself always as a powerful temptress capable of anything, even summoning red roses with the toss of a coin and the whisper of a wish.

This post contains a sponsored link. As always, all writing and opinions are my own.

“A Song A Week” Challenge: Monthly Recap 3 of 12

Kate Sloan

Song 10/52: “Hey Ex-Boyfriend”

Lyrics:

Hey, ex-boyfriend – I forgive you
Everyone is trying to do their best
Thought I saw a future with you
That’s why, when you left, I got depressed

I only knew the knowledge that I knew
I only had what little sense I had
I only did the best that I could do
It turns out that my best still made me sad

Hey, ex-boyfriend – yeah, you hurt me
Barely ate or slept for like a month
You left me weak, depressed and dirty
But I can forgive you for that stuff

You only knew the knowledge that you knew
You only had the little sense you had
You only did the best that you could do
It turns out that your best still made me sad

Human beings have a habit
Of fucking up the frailest things
Love is hard – it hurts, but damn
It’s worth it for the joy it brings

We’re breaking hearts left and right
We’re crying face-down in our pillows at night
We’re loving no matter how horribly it stings

We only knew the knowledge that we knew
We only had the little sense we had
We only did the best that we could do
And sometimes our best still makes us sad

 

Songwriting diary:

I had a writing session where I was hopping around between a few different songs and none of them were really working. One was about fuckboys and one was about people who constantly ignore you in favor of their phone while you’re together (needless to say, there is some overlap between those two topics). But they just felt messy and chaotic, and I was running out of time in the week to get a song written, so I decided to table everything for the time being and just write something really simple.

I think I had the vague thought that I should just write about an ex-boyfriend because those memories have always worked well as songwriting inspiration in the past. So I started improvising by singing, “Hey, ex-boyfriend” (which, in retrospect, makes the whole song feel like a bit of a nod to “Hey There Delilah,” especially paired with the musical style). Something I’ve been talking about a lot in therapy over the past year is the idea that most people really are trying their best, most of the time; it’s just that we’re all constrained by our knowledge levels and life circumstances, so unfortunately “our best” isn’t always good enough to keep the people around us from getting hurt. This is a super calming concept for me to contemplate and I wanted to put it into a song. I knew right away that I wanted all three choruses to be the same but vary who they were speaking about (I, you, we) to emphasize the universality of this idea.

The second line of the chorus was originally “[I/you/we] only had the wisdom that [I/you/we] had,” but my spouse thought that this line landed weird and I kind of agreed. I brainstormed and tried out a bunch of other alternate phrases for that spot, including “silly heart” and “human heart.” But then, oddly enough, we did a phone sex scene involving hypnosis, intoxication, and impregnation (not that that has anything to do with the song, because it really does not), and almost immediately after my orgasm, this line popped into my head: “I only had what little sense I had.” I hadn’t even consciously been thinking about the song, but I guess my brain was sort of running it as a background task. I scrambled to my notes app and wrote down the line, and thus the song was completed.

Song 11/52: “I Know You Don’t”

Lyrics:

Walking out in the snow, where nobody knows me
I’ve got no place to go, ’cause nobody chose me
Tried to leave you alone; I feel like you owe me
So I’m out in the cold – damn, you expose me

The truth is I’m ready, I know that I’m ready to go
I know you don’t love me; I know you don’t want me to know

Tried to stop and say hey, but you’re not here yet
No clue what I would say – the way isn’t clear yet
Thought you’d love me someday; you haven’t come near yet
I feel you backing away – please don’t disappear yet

The truth is I’m ready, I think that I’m ready to grow
I know you don’t love me; I know you don’t want me to know

So let me go
I wanna be free
I wanna come back
I wanna be me
I wanna be everything loving you wouldn’t let me be

The truth is I’m ready, I know that I’m ready to go
I know you don’t love me; there’s no way that I couldn’t know
The truth is I’m ready, I’m ready to live and explore
I know you don’t love me; I know I don’t care anymore

 

Songwriting diary:

This was one of the most intuitive and easy songwriting processes I’ve had this year so far. I set aside a different song I’d been working on and just said to myself, “I’m gonna write a new song,” looked out at the snow falling outside my window, and immediately improvised the first couple lines of this one. I liked where it was going so I made a recording and built from there.

It’s interesting how a lot of the songwriting books and articles I’ve been reading have mentioned that “the song tells/shows you what it wants to be about.” I don’t always find that to be the case – sometimes I consciously choose a topic for the as-yet-unwritten lyrics of an already-devised musical component – but I do think that the best songs are the ones that announce their subject matter to me early on in the form of conjuring certain emotions or thoughts. Seeing the snow reminded me of this one night in my early twenties when I walked home from the train station, which took an hour, instead of taking the subway or streetcar, solely because that route would let me walk past the house of the person I was in love with at the time, and I was desperately hoping we might run into each other. For the entire duration of that walk, I was listening to the John Mayer song “In Your Atmosphere” on repeat, because it reflected a lot of what I was feeling, so I’m sure that the influence of that song is in this one somewhere.

I did some very minimal lyric editing the day after writing this (e.g. changing “your apathy froze me” to “I feel like you owe me“) but otherwise kept it pretty much the same. I wrote it on a Friday and only had until Sunday to record it so there wasn’t time for perfectionism. The night that I wrote it, I felt discouraged, thinking it wasn’t a good song, but fixing up the lyrics made me realize it’s actually pretty lovely. It just had to be polished, like a gem.

Song 12/52: “Vitamin D”

Lyrics:

Such a nice day – well, it would be nice for somebody
But I’ll just stay, stay inside and take my vitamin D
‘Cause any place I go can start to scare me
And nobody can know about the load I carry

Chorus:
Take a pill, take a sunshine pill
Never works, but I hope it will
Drink it down, take your vitamin D
It’s hard to swallow; it had better be

I remember feeling safe, feeling flirty and free
But I never saw this coming, this anxiety
It’s always in my bones and in my belly
And I don’t wanna know what it’s trying to tell me

(repeat chorus)

And oh, I’m tired
Of putting up walls
Of taking the fall
And oh, I’m tired
Of treating a symptom
Instead of the system

(repeat chorus)

 

Songwriting diary:

There have been so many weeks lately when I’ve gotten annoyed with whatever fragment-o’-song I was working on, put it down, and just decided to write a new/different one. This was one of those. I literally glanced around my room, spotted my bottle of vitamin D pills, and started improvising the first lines.

Gadd9 has been an evocative chord for me lately so it ended up being a prominent one in this song. Sometimes the mood of specific chords is what inspires me in a particular direction.

Been working on myself a lot in therapy lately and this song is kind of just an amalgamation of thoughts I’ve been having during that process – mostly, realizing how a lot of the stuff I’ve done for my mental health previously was just a band-aid on the real problem, which is trauma (“treating a symptom/ instead of the system“).

Song 13/52: “Love is Blind”

Lyrics:

We met in a pod
Thank God
Couldn’t have met any other way
‘Cause we got nothin’ in common, and that’s okay

Between us: just blue walls
They’re giving us blue balls

Love is blind
Love is patient and kind
Love is on camera
Love is unable to slam ya
Love is frustration
Love is subtextual masturbation
Love is not exactly what I had in mind
Love is blind

I think we have bigger problems
Do we even wanna solve ’em?
Don’t you hate how we spend our days?
Don’t you feel like rats in a maze?

Love is blind
Love’s whatever you can find
Love’s an “I guess so”
Guess I’m never saying “fuck yes,” so…
Love is whatever
Love is stress more than it’s pleasure
Love is fucking with my sanity, my mind
Love is blind

Don’t want any drama
But did you vote for Obama?
I hope you don’t hate me for this
But honey, are you an atheist?

Is this shit fundamental or inconsequential?
Should I be more gentle?
Am I going mental?
Can I marry my opposite?
Or should I reconsider it?

Love is blind
Love’s the tie that always binds
Love is devalued
Love is a way to corral you
Love is narcotic
Love is raking in the profit
Love is just another resource to be mined
Love is blind

 

Songwriting diary:

I was feeling really burned out on writing personal songs this week – or, as my spouse put it, I “need[ed] to give [my] psyche a break from being plumbed” – and had been pondering the psychology of dating reality shows like Love is Blind and Too Hot to Handle, so this song happened.

Like most of the songs I’ve written for this challenge, I started out just improvising whatever came to mind and built from there. The “blue walls/ blue balls” joke popped into my head unprompted (surprised I didn’t think of it while actually watching the show tbh) and that’s the moment when I laughed out loud and decided to buckle down and write the rest of the song instead of just pivoting to something more “respectable” or normal for me.

On a deeper level, this song feels like an expression of how I thought I knew what love was “supposed” to feel like prior to meeting my current partner, but in retrospect, some of my past romances were far more problematic, manipulative, and/or shallow than I actually realized at the time. Watching Love is Blind as someone who is nerdy about sex and dating, it’s hard not to think about the different “faces” of love and how some experiences that feel like love are actually not, or at least not in the way you thought they were.

A Vibrator for Meditation?! Well, Sort Of…

Kate Sloan

It’s not often that I’m offered a vibrating object which isn’t designed to be put on your genitals – so I was intrigued when I received a press release about the Sensate.

 

What is the Sensate and what does it do?

The Sensate is a “wearable stress relief and anti-anxiety device.” It’s a small vibrating object that reminds me of the Je Joue MiMi. It comes with a lanyard, which you can attach to it and then wear like a necklace, to keep the Sensate in the right spot on your sternum while you’re using it.

Okay, but what does the Sensate actually do? It connects via Bluetooth to an iOS/Android app, which contains a selection of ambient audio tracks for meditation. Each one of those tracks has its own corresponding vibration patterns, so that the vibrations you feel on your chest are perfectly in sync with the music or sounds you’re hearing.

This could be plenty relaxing on its own, but the Sensate’s vibration actually serves a specific purpose beyond just feeling good (which it does): to “tone the vagus nerve.” If you’re unfamiliar, the vagus nerve is the longest nerve in the human autonomic nervous system. It plays a role in many critical aspects of health, including heart rate, breathing rate, and digestion. It also helps us cope with stress, by regulating our fight-or-flight responses and helping us soothe ourselves back into a relaxed state when we get stressed out.

Supposedly, the vibrations meted out by the Sensate help the vagus nerve to relax, evoking a feeling of safety and calm. The makers of the Sensate say that over time, this process gets easier and easier as your vagus nerve gets more toned, so that you develop greater resilience in the face of stress.

(I should note here that while I minored in psychology in school, and have done extensive self-education on trauma and the nervous system, I’m not a medical expert at all and don’t have the knowledge or experience to directly confirm whether this science is legit. But everything I’ve written here is, to the best of my knowledge, true.)

 

How well does it work?

I’ve recently been learning about mindfulness and meditation for pain reduction, through a program offered by my local chronic pain clinic, so I was excited to get to test a device that’s specifically for meditation. I have to say, usually I struggle to make time for meditation because it just seems so boring compared to, I dunno, doomscrolling Twitter or playing Pokémon games… but since getting the Sensate, I’ve been much more enthused about it. There’s something about having a cool little device that makes the whole practice feel more fun and special to me, and if that’s what it takes to motivate myself into meditating, then so be it.

I like to cocoon myself in bed, plug my headphones into my phone, slip the Sensate’s lanyard over my head, get it positioned properly, and put a blindfold on before beginning my meditation. (The blindfold helps me a lot, because otherwise I would tend to look around idly and get distracted.) There are currently 13 different tracks in the app – I hope they add more eventually – and each has a duration of either 10, 20, or 30 minutes; I like that I can choose whichever duration I’m in the mood for, but do wish there were a few 5-minute meditations too, for those really busy days.

Like most beginner meditators (and maybe most meditators in general tbh), my mind wanders a lot while I’m trying to “empty” it during a meditation session. But I find that the vibrations of the Sensate are grounding and serve as a frequent reminder that I am indeed meditating, and that I should gently return my focus to my breath (or whatever else I’ve chosen to focus on).

I gotta say, I was skeptical about the Sensate, but I always notice a significant reduction in stress and agitation after I use it. My body and brain typically feel calm, quiet, and relaxed, in a way that reminds me of the soft peace I feel after a good hard cry or a good hard spanking scene. When I try to meditate without the Sensate, often I just end up worrying about work projects I have to finish or social interactions I think I fucked up, so I often don’t feel very relaxed by the time a meditation ends; however, with the Sensate, even if I do experience anxiety or worrying during the meditation, I always feel calmer when I’m done.

The battery life is pretty good; Sensate’s website says you’ll probably need to charge it once a week if you’re using it every day. It comes with a cute little travel case, which I love, because I genuinely would bring this with me on trips, especially if I was en route to an anxiety-provoking event.

I can’t really tell you whether the Sensate has had any kind of long-term effect on my overall mood or stress level, because I’m also going through a lot of stuff right now that is affecting those things too: trauma therapy, learning about Internal Family Systems, a fucking global pandemic, and so on. But I can say that it helps me relax in the moment, helps me fall asleep, and motivates me to meditate more often.

 

But is it sexy?!?

Look, this is a sex blog, and I wrote a book about kink. Of course I gotta talk about whether this thing is sexy and/or kinky.

There is a spot on my chest, right between my boobs, that feels good to touch, in a borderline-sexual way. I always adjust the Sensate so it is placed directly on that spot, even though the instructions recommend placing it a little higher. (They also say placing it lower is fine, FYI.) This makes it a more sensual experience for me and is probably a big part of why I feel more motivated to meditate since getting this device 😂

If you’re into erotic hypnosis, or have another kink that involves fetishizing relaxation, sleepiness, or spaceyness, I’m sure you could find some inventive ways to use the Sensate in scenes. For instance, I think it would be hot if my partner put me in trance, put my Sensate + headphones + blindfold on me, started a 30-minute track, and performed cunnilingus on my sleepy, spacey body. (Um, they’re gonna read this post aloud to me later like they always do, and I just know they’re gonna make some kind of pervy comment right here that’ll make me blush…)

I have considered the idea of placing the Sensate on my genitals during a meditation, but I just don’t know that it’d be all that fun. The vibrations aren’t toooo buzzy but they certainly aren’t optimized for genital pleasure. I think you’d be better off just using a regular vibrator on yourself during a Sensate session if you wanted to combine meditation with masturbation (or sex).

I tried using the Sensate during a shrooms trip once, and wished I had pre-vetted the track I chose, because it was kind of creepy and put me into a negative headspace in that state, so I abandoned ship after just a couple of minutes. I’d like to try it again with a different track sometime soon, because I’m sure it would be wild to use this thing on psychedelics.

 

Does it have any drawbacks?

The main one is that this thing costs $249. I imagine that a lot of the reason for that steep price tag is the research and development that went into creating it, which I absolutely respect; I just think it’s way out of most people’s price range for something they’ll probably use a few times a week, tops. If you’re a serious meditator, have a lot of cash to throw around, and/or have “tried everything” to relieve your stress symptoms and want to try something else, I think it’d be a decent purchase. But the average person definitely does not need this, especially since you can get the app for free and just listen to the audio tracks, sans vibration.

There’s no way to experience the relaxing vibrations of the Sensate without the usage of the accompanying app. This means that you’re shit outta luck if you don’t have an iOS or Android phone. It also means that you can’t sync up the Sensate with other audio, like your favorite songs or a voice memo of your partner saying filthy shit to you. You can use it without headphones on, thereby experiencing only the vibrations and being able to listen to whatever you want, but the inventors say (and I believe) that the relaxation effects won’t be as pronounced if you use it that way. Of course, if you’re using it for hypnokink perviness or somesuch, maybe you don’t care about that.

 

Final thoughts

If you can spare $249 and you want an inventive product that’ll help you chill out, I think you’d dig the Sensate. I’m honestly really glad I own one.

But also, you don’t need it. Maybe just try holding your vibrator against your chest while you meditate sometimes? 🤷🏻‍♀️

 

Thanks to Sensate for sending me their product to try! They didn’t pay me for this review or anything, I just think it’s a cool product and wanted to write about it.