12 Days of Girly Juice: 4 Fun Events

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I’m so, so lucky to get invited to cool sex-positive events on the regular. One of the key ingredients of happiness is having something to look forward to, and I always do, thanks to these events.

It was hard to choose the 4 that I loved most in 2015, but these were really the ones that transformed my life the most, gave me the most fun and laughter, and brought me together with incredible people.

Tell Me Something Good

I attended my first TMSG in December 2014, as a guest judge – and immediately, I was hooked. It’s a sexy storytelling event; there’s a different theme each month, and attendees can volunteer to tell their best (TRUE) sex story related to the theme. Judges appraise the stories and the best ones win prizes at the end of the night.

Despite there being judges and scores, there is no sense of competition at TMSG. It’s all about community, commonalities and commiseration. Stories can be funny, or sweet, or sad, or strange – or all of the above. The only rules: stick to the theme, stay under 5 minutes (unless you’re really interesting), and keep oppressive -isms and -phobias out of your stories.

I’ve never once had a bad experience at TMSG. Never has someone told a story that made me uncomfortable, or reacted to my stories in a gross way. Getting sexual sagas off my chest at TMSG has become a monthly ritual, a joy I avidly look forward to. The community there is like this cool little club that comes together monthly just to reassure each other: “Yeah, sex is weird. But that’s okay.”

Drunk Feminist Films

I first attended DFF when they screened Fifty Shades of Grey back in April. It’s an idea so simple and yet so genius: a bunch of feminists get together in a movie theatre, feminist drinking game rules are distributed, and everyone (optionally) drinks their way through a gender-problematic movie.

Here are some samples of DFF rules. Drink every time Anastasia Steele tells Christian Grey what to do and he does the exact opposite. Drink every time one of the characters in Bridesmaids does something that would get them arrested (or worse) if they weren’t white. Drink every time a woman in Love Actually sacrifices her happiness to take care of someone else.

But DFF doesn’t just tear down troubling shit; it also celebrates what’s good in the movies it highlights. We were encouraged to twirl tampons in the air and shout “AGENCY!” every time Ana Steele made her own decisions, and we chorused “BFFs!” each time female characters supported one another in Clueless. Even though most of the movies shown at DFF are dumb comedies or dry dramas, I’ve found tears welling up in my eyes at almost every screening, because the feeling of feminist solidarity packed into that cinema is palpable.

A common criticism of the feminist movement is that we’re “too angry.” And yeah, it’s perfectly reasonable to get angry – nay, furious – with the state of gender equality in the world today. But anger is exhausting. Sometimes I just want to laugh and drink and relax in the company of other feminists. That doesn’t make me less of a fighter for the cause; it just makes me human. DFF understands that, which makes it one of my favorite events and most valued spaces of 2015.

DildoHoliday

Seven sex bloggers walk into a beach house…

Nope, that’s not the beginning of a joke. That’s what happened at DildoHoliday. It was a bloggers’ retreat organized by Piph, Bex and Aerie, and it was, without a doubt, one of the highlights of my 2015.

I finally got to meet all these people I had only known through the internet, and they became much more real to me. Those friendships deepened and became some of the most solid and supportive alliances in my life.

For days on end, we laughed, watched porn, posed for nude photos, masturbated, skill-shared, live-tweeted, and lounged around. We made our own dildos, snapped endless sex toy photos, and pranked each other with a stone cherub.

Being around like-minded people is relaxing in its own right, so combine that with an idyllic environment like an Oregon beach house and you’ve got a recipe for a super rejuvenating vacation. I truly feel like these memories and friendships will stick with me for life.

Playground Conference

It’s an oft-repeated piece of wisdom amongst my friend group that sex conferences are usually fun because of the people and the after-hours events, not so much the actual conference sessions. Playground did what few conferences can do: both the sessions and the “extracurriculars” were fun, informative, and enlightening.

It was one of the best weekends of my year. I got to spend time with friends visiting from afar, have big delicious meals at brunch restaurants, and ogle steel dildos in the expo room. I had an impromptu threesome, a sex-tinged hotel-room cuddle pile, and a quiet late night getting sleepily fingered by a dom gentleman. I learned about sex and depression, sex and self-care, sex and gender identity.

At the end of the weekend, I was exhausted, but I also felt pumped up with new knowledge and new experiences. It was, in short, exactly what a sex conference should be.

 

What events rocked your world in 2015?

Review: Njoy Eleven

Review: Njoy Eleven

My job as a sex toy reviewer is essentially to answer the question, “Should you buy this toy?” and while that’s sometimes easy, it’s a challenge with the Njoy Eleven. It’s pretty damn expensive, usually retailing for $350-450 depending on where you get it. The bigger and firmer a toy is, the likelier it is to cause discomfort or pain when it encounters a body it’s incompatible with – and the Eleven is one of the biggest and firmest toys you can get your hands on, at 11″ by 2″ of solid stainless steel. In addition to all that, it’s also unwieldy, indiscreet, and not guaranteed to hit your G-spot.

When I told Piph I longed for an Eleven, she tried to talk me out of it. I’d read her review, so I knew she didn’t like it: she found it too heavy to thrust comfortably, and it didn’t hit her G-spot as well as she thought it would. “Trust my vagina on this,” she implored me. And while I do, generally, trust Piph’s vagina, I also trust my own – and it was telling me it wanted to be crammed full of stainless steel.

At DildoHoliday, I borrowed Piph’s Eleven from the communal bleach bowl and took it to my room. I paired it with a good clit vibe. I had an orgasm. And I fell in love. Heart-eyes-emoji, head-over-G-spot in love.

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The object of my affections, I should explain, is the Eleven‘s larger end. The smaller, ridged side, at 1.75″ in diameter, is perfectly fine, but it lacks the pronounced curve and insistent girth that work magic on my G-spot. I use the smaller end as a warm-up, because my vagina may be experienced but it can’t handle two inches of steel right off the bat. So I work myself open using the smaller end, and it usually only takes a minute or two before I’m ready to turn the Eleven around and slide the bigger side into my vag.

Although steel is completely firm and unyielding, I often find it easier to insert large steel toys into my orifices, because they’re so frictionless. In fact, despite the Eleven’s enormity (and, you should know, it is fucking enormous), I almost never use lube with it. My natural lubrication is usually enough – but don’t try this at home, kids; I might just be a freak of nature. Lube is a good thing!

The large end of the Eleven locks in place behind my pubic bone and nuzzles right up into my G-spot. There’s really nowhere else it can go. It’s too big to be pushed in deep toward my cervix, and its flared head keeps it from sliding out of me before I’m ready to remove it. So it just stays exactly where I want it, and all I can really do is thrust it over my G-spot in small motions. Fortunately, that’s all the movement I need for the Eleven to feel fucking fantastic.

Piph and I disagree about which is better, the Eleven or the Pure Wand, and I know why. She likes direct, intense G-spot pressure, the kind best provided by toys with an extreme curve like the Pure Wand or Comet Wand. But as for me, I’ve learned that my G-spot prefers sweet, tender rubbing over aggressive pounding. I can appreciate the Pure Wand and other G-spot assailants of its ilk, but they serve up my pleasure with a side order of “need-to-pee” discomfort, and I’m not always down for that. So something that slides back and forth over my G-spot, rather than slamming into it or grinding against it, works better for my purposes.

And to that end, the bigger head of the Eleven feels divine for me. If I use it with a decent clit vibe, I can usually get off with the vibrator on the first or second setting, because the G-spot pleasure makes up for the lower level of clit stimulation. This combo has brought me to many a stellar blended orgasm. I love blended orgasms best because they leave me feeling incredibly sated and blissed out – and that’s particularly true of the Eleven, since its mighty girth is so satisfying for my muscles to clench around when I come.

Is this review even more graphic and detailed than mine usually are? That’s because the Eleven elicits feelings in my vagina that I can only describe as pornographic. I’m getting turned on just writing this review. Fuck, man. Get out of my head, you vexatious, tantalizing chunk o’ steel!!

The Eleven’s heaviness is one of the main issues some reviewers have with it. And that’s understandable. At 2.75 pounds, it is basically a dumbbell, fit for arm exercise regimens. I find I can get around this somewhat by bracing my arm against my thigh and angling my vag so my thrusts work with gravity instead of against it. (Horizontal thrusting with the Eleven is less tiring than vertical for me.) However, if you have any kind of mobility or strength issues in your arms, run far, far away from the Eleven. Something lighter but equally G-spotty, like the Seduction, will do you right.

Now, let’s talk price for a minute. I still maintain that you should try someone else’s Eleven before you buy your own, if that’s at all feasible for you. I wouldn’t want you to drop a ton of money on this thing and then find out that you hate it. But if you’re prepared to bite the bullet, here are some places where you can get an Eleven:

I can’t tell you whether or not you should buy an Eleven. All I can tell you is that I love mine, some people hate it, some love it, and you should certainly never pay full-price for one.

Beyond that, it’s up to you. Are your holes calling out for this massive rod of steel, like mine was? Or do you quake in fear of the Eleven’s size (and price tag)? The choice is yours, my friend…

I Made My Own Glass Dildo Because Life is a Magical Adventure

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When the #DildoHoliday schedule arrived in my inbox, I opened it up and speed-read it as though it contained the meaning of life.

My eyes swept over the various planned workshops, roundtable discussions, and group meals, until they landed on these intriguing words: “Super secret surprise event. Trust us – you’re gonna love it!”

What the fuck could that mean?

The only piece of information we were given about this “secret surprise” was that we’d need to wear closed-toe shoes. I was utterly baffled. At one point I even Googled “activities that require closed-toe shoes,” because the curiosity was gnawing at me. The search results were unhelpful.

When we arrived at the beach house where #DildoHoliday took place, and the scheduled time of the Super Secret Surprise Event was creeping up, Piph and Bex told us to wear pants instead of flowy skirts. I asked if I should bring a jacket and they told me to skip it, because the temperature of our destination would be hot. It was a bit chilly outside, so once again, I was mystified. But I put on the clothes I’d been instructed to wear, and piled into Kate’s car with the others.

Piph told Kate where to drive, and the anticipation in the car was palpable. I couldn’t remember the last time I had been faced with a surprise that was actually a surprise; usually I figure these things out well before they happen. But in this case, I truly had no clue what we were in for. Kate asked Piph if we were going on a boat ride, which was also the only idea that had occurred to me, and Piph just laughed and said no.

And then we pulled up outside Jennifer Sears Glass Art Studio, and we started shrieking. Because it suddenly became obvious. We were going to MAKE OUR OWN GLASS DILDOS.

Needless to say, this was a much better surprise than a boat ride.

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There were three glassworkers there to help us make the glass dildos of our dreams: Kelly, Kyla and Otto. (Is “glassworker” the correct term? I’m kind of more inclined to call them “glass wizards.”) This glass studio doesn’t normally make sexual paraphernalia – glass floats, bowls, and hearts are their usual wares, and there was nary a glass dildo or glass anal toy in sight! – but they’d agreed to set aside some time outside of business hours for us.

I was assigned to Otto, and at first I was nervous because I thought I’d feel uncomfortable describing my ideal dildo shape and size to a man, especially one I’d just met. But Otto was a total sweetheart and helped me through the whole process without making me feel one iota of discomfort.

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Otto explained each step of the process as we went along. First I gathered up some molten hot, liquid glass on the end of a metal rod. I wore gloves, of course, so the hot pole (!) wouldn’t burn my hands.

Then, while continually rotating the rod to prevent dripping, I dipped the squishy ball of orange-hot glass into a couple piles of a powdery substance that would give the dildo its color. After much deliberation, I’d chosen two of my favorite shades: a deep royal blue and a gorgeous turquoisey-green. Otto did some masterful glass manipulation to get the colors to swirl together in my dildo.

After we’d applied the colors, we put an additional layer of clear glass on top – that way, the paint would be inside the dildo, instead of on the surface where it could potentially flake off during use.

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Then came the really fun part: creating the shape of the toy. I had shown Otto some reference images of the Fucking Sculptures Double Trouble on my phone, because I wanted my dildo to have a similar S-shaped curve. He understood what I meant immediately, and I watched in amazement while he went to work on the melty blob of glass.

The glassmakers shaped our toys by spinning them against a thick square of folded wet newspaper. You’d think that the glass would just burn through the paper, since it’s incredibly hot at this point – but instead, the glass heats up the water in the wet paper, creating steam, which keeps the newspaper from burning while also protecting the glassmakers’ hands from the heat of the glass.

I asked Otto why he wasn’t wearing gloves like I was – it seemed dangerous! – and he told me he never wears them because they just get in his way. What a badass! I also asked him if he’s got super buff forearm muscles from spinning glass on rods all day every day (my arms got a bit sore just from the small amount of glass-spinning I did) and he told me he’s actually gotten muscle injuries from the strenuous work before. I believe it!

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The dildo began to take shape. Otto would manipulate it with the wet newspaper and some metal tongs until it started to cool down, and then we’d stick it back into the burning-hot “glory hole” again until it heated up enough to be bent and formed some more.

After he initially made the S shape, he asked me what I thought, and I said, “Can you give it a little more curve?” He kept increasing the angle until it looked about right to me.

We could’ve slimmed it down, but I decided to keep it huge. I thought it’d be better to have a dildo I could “grow into” than one that might feel disappointingly small to me someday. I knew I was pushing the limits of vaginal superpowers when Piph eyed my dildo and commented on how big it is – after all, her vagina is a black hole, so she can judge a super-sized dildo better than most – but I told her, “I think I can handle it.”

Later, one of the other glassmakers walked by and saw my dildo. “That’s so big!” she said, and Otto replied, “She says she can handle it!”

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When the dildo looked how I wanted it, it was time to separate it from the chunk of glass that kept it attached to the metal pipe. Otto gave me some tongs and I squeezed as hard as my scrawny arms would allow, while he turned the pole.

When I’d thinned off the end as much as I could, the glassmakers did some kind of blowtorch magic and my dildo popped right off the pipe into their waiting hands. They smoothed out the end with the blowtorch and then put all of our toys in a special machine that cools glass very gradually over many hours, so it doesn’t crack from the rapid change in temperature.

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After waiting what felt like forever (but was actually less than 24 hours!), we went back to the glass studio to pick up our finished treasures. We took them home and passed them out like it was Christmas morning. I’ve never seen so much dildo-related smiling in my life!

It wasn’t long before I ran off to my room with my dildo and gave it a go. It is HUMONGOUS – the diameter of each end is 2 1/4″! – but with lots of warm-up and lube, I managed to get the slightly smaller, more tapered end into me. The G-spot stimulation was so intense it almost hurt, as was the riotous orgasm that quickly followed.

I nicknamed my dildo the “Seaside Steamroller,” because a) we made it in a seaside town, b) its colors evoke the ocean, and c) it’s fucking MASSIVE and will basically steamroll your vagina. Sex toy reviewer extraordinaire Epiphora gave it a shot, and here’s what she had to say about it:

Daunted but also inspired by Girly Juice’s triumph with her Seaside Steamroller, I set out to conquer it myself. I went for the tapered end first, which is really wide, so I turned it sideways to insert it. Thoughts of how much of a genius I am for that move were replaced immediately by delicious G-spot sensations. Holy shit. It was AWESOME. I thought I’d be annoyed by the weight, but the shape of the handle was so ergonomic it didn’t matter.

The other, even larger end was less amazing. I had to do lamaze breathing to get it in (which I haven’t had to do since Randy), and the handle was facing down and away from me. Not ideal.

I switched back to the tapered end and proceeded to squirt all over everything and right through the hilariously useless towel under me. As I came down from my orgasm, I thought, somehow, some magical way, Girly Juice has managed to craft a dildo that improves upon the njoy Eleven. Yes: the Seaside Steamroller is what the Eleven wishes it could be.

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Our glass-making experience would not have been possible without the help of two of our #DildoHoliday sponsors, Tantus and We-Vibe. We had more fun making dildos than I would have thought possible, thanks to the generosity of these two fabulous and innovative companies.

Since coming home from Oregon, there have been moments when I’ve felt that #DildoHoliday couldn’t possibly have been real – like it was some souped-up fantasy or terrific dream. Because yeah, it is distinctly dreamlike to spend four days in a beach house far from your home with people you only knew from the internet, doing things like posing for naked pictures and masturbating side-by-side.

But then I hold my glass dildo and it’s like the spinning top from Inception: it reminds me that this stuff really happened, that this is my real life. And that’s an even better feeling than the G-spot pleasure my glass dildo gives me.

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Top photo by me. All other photos by Kate Sinclaire. Linked photo of blue glass dye by Penny.

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

Monthly Faves: Size Captains, Blowjob Queens, Squirting Dreams

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Oh, June! What a beautiful month it’s been. I had so many sexy adventures and I didn’t even have sex with anyone but myself. Here’s some of the lasciviousness that took up real estate in my brain and my vagina this month…

Sex toys

• I bought a NobEssence Seduction when I was in Portland for #DildoHoliday, and HOLY FUCK, it is a vaginal blessing. I will have a lot more to say in my review, of course, but for now, just know: this thing is a total game-changer. HELLO, G-SPOT.

• Also at DildoHoliday, Piph let me try her Magic Wand Rechargeable (a.k.a. cordless Hitachi). I liked it so much that I immediately emailed my pals at Sex Toys Canada to ask if I could review one for them, and they were very obliging, so now I have a Magic Wand of my very own. It’s a vast improvement on the original Hitachi and I’m looking forward to writing my review!

• As of this month, I think I am officially a size captain. My vagina partied with Piph’s Eleven (2″ wide), the Tantus Splash (1 3/4″), VixSkin Maverick (2″), Jollies Jollet (1 7/8″), and the glass dildo I made at #DildoHoliday (2 1/4″!!!). It’s funny how, when I first started blogging, I thought a 1 1/2″-wide dildo was the outer limit of my vag’s capabilities, and would remain that way – but now, my vaginal proficiency is above and beyond what I ever dreamed. “Believe in your vaginas, people; they can do ANYTHING!”

Fantasy fodder

Audio erotica was my everything this month. Admittedly, though, I still giggle at the sound of a lubed penis being stroked quickly. I mean, it’s kind of a funny sound. Right?!

• I continue to be obsessed with Heather Harmon. Her enthusiasm and skill are astounding. Bow down to the blowjob queen. (I also found this article which discusses Heather’s legacy, and it’s kinda fascinating. So are the comments: “You can see her out and about if you frequent gun shops”???)

• I am contemplating writing a Rosa/Amy fanfic, basically just because Rosa Diaz is soooo fucking hot and I want to see her bang everyone.

Et cetera

• I had forgotten how fun it is to masturbate communally. I don’t even really find it hot so much as I find it to be a sweet, comforting feature of the best sex-positive friendships.

• I wrote a magazine article about female ejaculation this month (details to come when I know ’em!) that inspired me to give squirting another shot. I think I might just have one of those bodies that isn’t capable of ejaculating, for whatever reason, but even just trying to make it happen is fun!

• Behold my current favorite song about cunnilingus. “I want to lick your pussy in the afternoon…”

What were your favorite toys/fantasies/sexy thangs this month?

10 Reasons Why Sex-Positive Friendship is Important

L to R: Reenie, Aerie, Bex, Penny, Kate, Epiphora, GJ
L to R: Reenie, Aerie, Bex, Penny, Kate, Epiphora, me!

 

#DildoHoliday is decidedly over, and dildrop is real.

I miss the beautiful house we stayed in. I miss the delicious group meals. I miss the mid-day masturbation breaks.

But mostly, I miss my friends.

When my dad was driving me to the airport to depart for Portland, he asked me, “Won’t it be weird to stay in a house with strangers?” but that’s not how I felt at all. These people weren’t strangers; I’d been corresponding with them on Twitter and other mediums for years. I already knew them better than I know most of the acquaintances I regularly see at home in Toronto: the guy who owns my favorite café, the distant classmates in some of my courses, the boys in my brother’s rock band.

I have sex-positive friends “in real life” as well, but #DildoHoliday really showed me just how important it is to have friends who are on the same page as you in as many ways as possible. There’s comfort and strength in that, for all of us, I think. Here are 10 reasons why sex-positive friendship is so valuable and crucial…

1. There’s no sexual shame. With my deeply sex-positive friends, I can talk about my kinks – even the ones I consider weird, taboo, or potentially unethical – and there’s no shame associated with it, from me or from my friends. If someone mentions fantasizing about exhibitionism or incest or watersports, no one even bats an eye. The most reaction you might get is something like, “Cool! Sounds fun!” or “Interesting! How’d you get into that?”

2. There’s no body shame, either. Body-positivity and sex-positivity are two different concepts with two different communities, but there’s a lot of overlap; most of my friends in each category also fall into the other. Being a chubby lady, I sometimes feel weird about getting naked (or even just exposing “problem areas” of my body) around people who I think might judge me; that’s not an issue with my body-positive pals. I can also eat what I want without worrying about how my food choices are being perceived. And in seeing all the carefree, happy body acceptance exhibited by my friends, I can get a little closer to that goal myself.

3. We don’t have to explain ourselves. Yeah, I own a lot of sex toys. Yeah, I sometimes post nudes on the internet. Yeah, I’m ideally looking for a kinky, non-monogamous person to be my next beau. There’s nothing wrong with any of that, and my sex-positive friends understand that without having to be convinced. Likewise, I accept their kinks and quirks, because that’s what “sex-positive” means: everything is A-OK as long as it’s safe, sane and consensual.

4. We don’t have to provide basic education. Look, I’m all for making the world a better place by teaching folks about sex, but I don’t want to do it all the time. It takes a lot of energy to explain, for example, why penetrative orgasms are an unreasonable goal for most vagina-havers, why a particular advertisement is sexist or racist, or what it means to be a sex toy reviewer. It’s nice to be around people who’ve taken the time to educate themselves and who therefore understand me without requiring me to explain what I consider basic-level concepts.

5. We nerd out about the same stuff. We refer to Tristan by her first name only, because we all know who she is and what she does. We get enthused about new sex toys on the market and discuss ‘em with wild abandon. Making our own glass dildos sounds 100% fun and 0% weird. (More about that in a future blog post, OF COURSE!) Sharing in each other’s enthusiasms brings us closer and – yes – makes life a ton more fun.

6. We can give each other advice. And not just basic, unhelpful advice that you could find on Google or Yahoo Answers – high-level advice tailored to the person asking. If I’m on the hunt for a new sex toy and I ask an in-the-know friend, she can suggest a toy that’s not only good but good for me specifically. Or I can ask a friend how to approach a difficult sexual conversation, knowing that she’ll keep my anxiety issues in mind when she answers. Or I can help my friend craft a tricky email to a sex toy retailer, knowing exactly what’s at stake and why she’s struggling with it. The better you know your friends and the worlds they’re a part of, the better equipped you are to help them navigate those worlds.

7. We can be sexual around each other without it getting weird. I once had sex with my then-FWB while my best friend photographed us. I’ve masturbated in front of friends, and watched them do the same. I’ve told friends explicit stories about sex and masturbation, and listened to theirs. I’ve watched porn with friends, groaned at the hottest parts, and talked in detail about how our vaginas were reacting to the scenes’ events. When you do this stuff with sex-positive pals, it tends to feel like a natural extension of your friendship instead of like some strange, stilted step into another realm. Sexual pleasure is a massive source of joy and I see no reason to fence it into my romantic relationships exclusively.

8. We get excited about each other’s sexy adventures. I still remember the time I texted a friend to tell her I’d given my first-ever blowjob and she responded by telling me she didn’t want to hear about stuff like that. It hurt to have a friend snub me about something I considered thrilling and momentous. With my present-day sex-positive friends, that kind of thing would never happen. My family and casual pals may not applaud me when I manage to insert a large dildo for the first time or gasp in delight when I tell them I met my favorite porn star, but my sex-positive friends do – because they get it.

9. We complain and commiserate for the greater good. My friends understand that it’s gross when some dude silently favorites all my selfies, that mansplainers are the scum of the earth, and that weak vibrators make clits sad. When we complain together about stuff like this, we can make it into a joke, something to laugh at, so it becomes more palatable and easier to tolerate. We may not be able to rid the world of douchebros and shitty toys, but we can laugh our asses off about them, which is almost as good.

10. We help each other expand and explore. I would never have gotten naked on camera if I didn’t have friends who shoot porn and nudes, but I’ve loved doing it and it’s helped me evolve as a sexual person. I would have taken much longer to end my last relationship, even though it was clearly dead, if my friends hadn’t encouraged me to go through with it. One of my most treasured memories from #DildoHoliday is a round-table discussion we had where we all shared what we’d like to see each other blog about. When your friends are living sex-positive lives, they can help you see how to live that way too, in bigger and better ways every day. And that’s a very good thing.

What do you appreciate most about your sex-positive amigos?