I’m (not) a Sucker for You [REVIEW]


I’ve always loved the idea of clitoral sucker toys. Clitoral stimulation is my favorite way to get off, so I figured it would be something I’d enjoy, and it may be in another form but this one isn’t for me.

Imagine my excitement when Paloqueth offered to send me some toys of my choice from their site to test out. Along with my favorite wand that I already reviewed, I picked out the Holyvo Sucker Vibrator to finally test out one of these toys I’ve been so intrigued by.

First Impressions


The package arrived and it was adorable: it’s purple, which – aside from black – is my favorite color, and the little emoji button is just too cute. It looks and feels like a quality toy, smooth buttery silicone, the works.

It’s also nice and compact, so it’s not overwhelming to use and it fits perfectly in the palm of your hand.

So how does it perform?

My first issue with this thing is turning it on, which is not easy. Granted, I may be doing something horribly wrong, but I can’t figure out how to get it to turn on without several tries each time, so that’s strike one.

Strike two is the actual use of the toy itself. I have what I would say is probably medium sensitivity in my clit, so not nothing, but not so sensitive that I scream if someone touches it. But it is sensitive enough that I cannot use this toy.

I can’t even get the suction going because the vibrations are too intense and buzzy for me to leave it anywhere in the vicinity of my clit for more than a second. I’ve mentioned before that I like more rumbly vibrations rather than buzzy, and this is most definitely one of the buzziest toys I’ve ever tried.


I hate to say that I haven’t even really tested this out for a proper review because I can’t stand to use it, which makes me sad after how excited I was about it.

Final Thoughts

If you enjoy buzzy vibes, clit torture, or maybe are someone who doesn’t have so much sensitivity in your clit, maybe you will enjoy this.

Don’t let this discourage you from checking out Paloqueth, they have some awesome, quality toys. After all, they have the magical wand vibrator that changed my life. I also have a couple other items from them to test out in the future which I am definitely looking forward to.

If you are interested in checking out what products Paloqueth has to offer, head to their website, and don’t forget to use code MAREN for 15% off your entire order!


Though these products were sent to me, and I am affiliated with Paloqueth, all thoughts and opinions are my own.

“We bought sex toys, isn’t that cool?”: Self Exploration and Education on Buying and Using Sex Toys

I originally wrote this my senior year in college, in the midst of working on finals and writing research papers, I was writing about sex toys even then.

I have always enjoyed this piece and decided to share it here. I feel like it is a great kick off to Pride month with it’s points of bisexual empowerment, and of course it fits right in with my blog content.

It’s interesting to see how far I’ve come in my sex toy journey so far from when I wrote this – the first time I ever wrote about sex toys.

It was written, submitted, and originally published in the Summer 2015 issue of Bi Women Quarterly, a publication run by and for queer women, and headed by the Bisexual Legend herself, Robyn Ochs.

I hope you enjoy!


I remember the first time I bought a sex toy, it was a few years ago…my friend and I attended a sex toy party at a mutual acquaintance’s house, one of those cheesy, stereotypical events where guests play funny games and win prizes like penis erasers and whistles, and everyone sits around in front of a young woman touting jelly rabbits, funky flavored lubes, books on how to “tickle his pickle”, and cheap, somewhat trashy lingerie that is “sure to get him going”. It was also an interesting affair due to the fact that the majority of guests were queer women, and yet the language was heteronormative and to be honest, a bit trite. All of the toys ant other various products at the party were extremely overpriced for their quality, and as young college students we didn’t have a lot of expendable cash, nor were we yet all that comfortable with the idea of purchasing a sex toy. My friend and I made an agreement to go to the mall the next day and look at Spencer’s where they had similar toys for less than half the price.

We each bought a different kind of vibrator and were enthralled, saying to our friends “isn’t this funny? We bought sex toys, isn’t that cool?” It was still taboo and I remember hiding the purchase from my roommate when I got home, tucking it away in a dark corner at the top of the closet. I only used the toy a few times that year, mostly because I lived in a dorm and shared a room, but also partly because I was embarrassed and worried about what she would think of me if she knew I had it (I’m pretty sure she never had a clue).

Over the next couple years, I started talking about sex and masturbation more openly as I got closer with my friends at college, and I was becoming more educated on sex toys though research, talking with friends, and a whole lot of self-exploration. I now own more than a few toys and have become expertly comfortable talking about sex toys with anyone who will listen or wants to know more. Though it only cost ten dollars, and in all honesty was pretty shitty, my first neon purple vibrator helped teach me a lot about myself, masturbation, pleasure, and my own sexuality and body. It opened me up to learning about sex toys, gaining more knowledge about quality toys and safety, and that there are more women using them than people tend to think, and that they aren’t just for straight women, but their queer counterparts as well.

I talk about sex toys, comfortably and openly, on a nearly daily basis…whether with friends, educators, people I’m educating, colleagues, or even my mom. Yet I still am constantly learning new things and changing/adapting my views and opinions on toys, and sex positivity in general. My friends and I talk about sex all the time, in my education of my community we constantly talk about sex, even my parents and I talk about sex. It is something that is always coming up, yet even in those situations where I am most comfortable, the subject of toys is still sometimes taboo or avoided, or at the very least fairly controversial…and I wonder why.

Within the queer community, particularly as a woman who identifies in the middle sexualities, there are a lot of stereotypes placed on my identity and my sexuality. Bisexuals are often labeled and stereotyped as promiscuous, slutty, and therefore our sexualities are often the subject of stricter scrutiny than that of others. This is an interesting issue to combat, especially as a bisexual woman – women’s sexuality being constantly under review and seen as lesser – while also remaining adamantly sex-positive. It can be extremely important to focus on sexual empowerment in the bisexual community and use sexual liberation as a form of self-care, specifically when having to deal with the common myths/stereotypes/discrimination that ae specific to the bi community. I attempt to use sex toys to promote sex positivity and empowerment within my communities, using them as a form of self-love expression, and it is difficult to navigate the line between my sex positivity and the stereotypes I face due to my identity as a queer woman. I believe that it is important for everyone, but queer women in particular, to feel empowered to embrace their sexualities and express themselves through their sexuality, chiefly to combat the fetishization of our identities, telling the public that we are here and we are whole people, and that our sexualities do not exist for the pleasure or prejudice of others.

I have taken quite the journey from buying my first sex toy in Spencer’s with my friend, with little to no knowledge of sex toys, to getting to a point of educating friends and peers on the subject of sex toys and writing for a company that sells toys and promotes feminist, sex positive exploration of one’s own sexuality. It may not be an easy journey for everyone to take, and becoming comfortable with discussing these topics may not be a simple feat, but I whole-heartedly believe that everyone can reach their own sex toy epiphany. As bi women, we can rise above the stereotypes and labels placed on us and come to embrace and love who we are, and not be afraid of sharing that with the world.


Bi Women Quarterly is a really cool publication and tied to an awesome organization – Bi Women Boston. Check them out here!

If you know of an organization looking for a speaker, check out Robyn


Bibbidi-Bobbidi-New Toy Review: first wand review


This is my first wand. I know I’m behind, it seems like you’re not really a true sex blogger until you own a wand. I never felt like I had the means to shell out the steep prices attached to most good wands (and I still feel like I haven’t made it as a “real” sex blogger until I own a Magic Wand lol). So when a company reached out to me and offered to let me choose products to be sent to me, I knew I needed to snatch up one of their wands…and boy was I not disappointed.

Now, I will say that because it is my first, I don’t have a lot to compare it to, so it may not be as great as I think it is. But, as far as I’m concerned, this bad boy is my new best friend. I can’t use it constantly because I have other stuff I also have to test out, but I wanted to make sure I had tested it many times before I gave a review.

Paloqueth, a company I had never heard of prior, reached out to me a while ago asking if I would like to choose products to review and I figured why not. I perused their site and ended up picking a couple things. The wand I’m talking about is their Handheld Rechargeable Massager.


First Impressions

The head of this toy is flexible and large, made with medical grade silicone and a nice motor. I love the fact that it is rechargeable because having to deal with power cords just seems like it would be a nightmare (though I always hear good things about the corded Magic Wand), and the size of the head is great for broad stimulation.

How does it perform?

If you already like wands, I’m sure you would enjoy this one…and if you have never tried a wand, I would say that this is a good one to start out with. If you are newer to external play, this wand is a good starter in my opinion because as much as I love my bullets, a lot of them can be way too intense, particularly for someone who isn’t used to extended clitoral stimulation.

As I’ve said in other reviews, external stimulation is my favorite, particularly with vibration, so I knew that wands would be for me. This particular model has a powerful enough motor but isn’t so intense that it’s overwhelming and has several different power levels – also includes patterns which, if you know me, is not my thing.

I have even ignored other toys I should have been testing and chosen this one instead just because I already knew I wouldn’t be disappointed by its performance and wouldn’t have to deal with the awkwardness of getting comfortable with something new, figuring out how it worked.


Final Thoughts

This thing is an orgasm machine. I don’t think I have ever reached orgasm as quickly or as hard as with this wand, at least not in the same way. And that is why I love it so much. I can, of course, draw things out as long as I need to, but it also can get the job done if I’m short on time. And it’s pretty much guaranteed that, no matter what, it will get me there which I can’t say of every toy I’ve used, even some of my favorites.

So I think it’s safe to say that the magical massager wand will be in heavy rotation from here on out, at least until something better comes along which I don’t see happening anytime soon.


Like I said previously, I don’t really know a whole lot about this company, but they do seem to have a fairly decent selection on their website and I plan to do a bit more research into what they’re all about, especially since I love their wand so much.

Products were sent to me by Paloqueth, but all thoughts and opinions are my own


New Vibes In Town: plusOne review


A little while ago, I was sent a couple products from a new line called plusOne, which is part of the Clio products line who make things like bikini trimmers and personal razors. I have used Clio products in the past so I was excited to learn that they now are making a line of affordable sex toys.

plusOne sells through Walmart, Target, and Amazon, which is great because it makes sex toys more readily available to folks who don’t necessarily have access to sex shops in their town and don’t want to order offline; either due to shipping costs, or safety/privacy reasons. (Though my local Walmart does not have them in stores because I live in the Bible Belt…)

These are sleek and well-designed affordable toys, even the most pricey not exceeding $30 which means a nice quality and affordable price to those who aren’t financially able to shell out for toys priced upwards of $80-$100.

So what products are offered in this line?

Personal Massager – $25

plusOne personal massager

A small vibrating wand massager that can be used for anything from sore muscles to kinky partner play. The rounded head is perfect for g-spot stimulation or broad clitoral stimulation. This wand has enough length to be used internally, but is also small enough that it’s not clunky and hulking like a lot of wands – don’t get me wrong, I love my wands…but if you want something a bit smaller and easier to wield, this may be right for you.

Vibrating Ring – $16

plusOne vibrating ring

A super stretchy, vibrating cock ring that also provides clitoral stimulation, making it perfect for partner use. If you aren’t using this toy for PIV sex, it could also be used in the same way with a strap-on, anal sex, or could also be used as a small clitoral vibe in solo play if you wanted something a bit smaller than a vibe but not quite a bullet.

Dual Vibrating Massager – $29.98

A “rabbit” style vibrator with dual motors for simultaneous internal and external stimulation, and works for solo or partner play.

Vibrating Bullet – $9.98


A small bullet vibe the sizeof your typical bullet, but packs a punch.

So what are they like? How do they perform?

I was sent the dual vibe and the bullet from the line and have been testing them out for a little while in my rotation.

Dual Vibrating Massager

This vibrator is very flexible which is good for various body types, particularly since each piece is flexible itself, meaning they can stretch apart and bend for larger bodies, or folks with limited mobility. It is made from super soft, smooth silicone and is a bit squishy which is nice because it’s not too rigid but substantial enough that it’s not TOO soft. The best part about the two toys I received is that they are both 100% waterproof, and rechargeable.

This is my first rabbit vibrator for a few reasons. I’ve always shied away from them becuase I don’t always love internal vibration, typically preferring penetration with just a dildo or something like that, and focusing vibration externally. The little animal shaped parts have always weirded me out, so I love that this one does not have that, plus the little wibbly ears always seemed like they might be tickly which is a sensation I’m not really looking for.

I do think that I enjoy some of the patterns on this one, which is rare for me as a person who typically hates patterns. Some of them are more like alternating between the internal and external motors, or a sort of wave vibration which are much more enjoyable than the morse-code-like patterns of a lot of toys.

Vibrating Bullet

I will admit that, like the Sixty I recently reviewed, I was initially turned off of this toy because when turned on it is LOUD, however I kept trying things out with it because I love bullets and wanted it to work. I figured out that the first setting is the most powerful of the steady vibrations and it goes down to a medium, then a low, which is a bit backwards from what I’m used to.

This one has some interesting patterns, but unlike the dual vibe, they’re not for me. This bullet has very powerful, buzzy vibrations rather than a little more rumbly which is more my speed. I definitely don’t hate it and it has made its way to my bedside. It’s currently the only rechargeable bullet in my rotation, which is a plus (unlike my favorite one whose only downside is that it runs on batteries which tend to drain pretty quickly).


Final Thoughts

I love that this brand is affordable, accessible, and well-made. They really seemed to think about every aspect of their designs, including the gorgeous outer-packaging. The products work well with my current favorite lube: Good Clean Love BioNude, which is definitely a plus because it works really well with my finicky, super sensitive skin.

Though these toys were sent to me, all thoughts and opinions are my own – I will always keep it real. If you are interested in checking any of these out for yourself, visit your local Walmart, Target, or click the links throughout this post 🙂

For more information on each toy and the brand itself, check out the plusOne website here.

Reclaiming A Body: Learning to Accept Body Positivity as Healing After a Disordered Past


(Content warning: discussion of disordered eating behaviors, calorie counting, restricting, binging, purging, mental illness, etc. If any of these topics are at all triggering for you, please don’t read, or read with extreme caution)

I have a secret. It’s not a complete secret because there are people in my life who know about it, or at least parts of it. But it is secret because it is not something that most people know about me, would suspect about me, and not even something that is recognized even by some people I’ve told about it (namely therapists, doctors, and the like).

I have a history of disordered eating habits. I’ve restricted. I’ve binged and purged. I’ve gone through periods where I ate less than 500 calories in a day.

I am also fat. I am also invested in the body positivity movement, and fat acceptance. I hate diet culture and understand that it doesn’t work and is dangerous.

I have spent years, and am still working on, learning to accept a body that I have spent a lot of time and energy hating. I am working every day to reclaim a body that was stolen from me by the media, well-meaning parents, coaches and teachers, 8 year old girls, the diet industry, eating disorders, and so much more.

I remember the first time I ever really thought consciously about my body. I was about 9 years old and it was at my friend’s birthday party. We were at her house and all off just playing around, the party activities pretty much done, and someone had the bright idea to all gather around the scale in the bathroom and each take turns stepping on. It came to my turn and I got on, and it hit somewhere in the ballpark of 90-100 lbs, and everyone had a field day. “Oh my gosh, you weigh 100 pounds?” someone said. There were snickers, and whispering and I quickly got off. I was tall for my age, and at least a year older than all of the other girls there, I was a dancer, I was athletic so I had muscle, and I also had never thought about whether I weighed more, less, or the same as other girls. I was me, I’d never had anyone concerned about my size – not even my doctor – and I had never felt fat. All of a sudden I was questioning everything. I was not a fat kid, but from that day on I thought about my body differently.

I remember in middle school when they sent the “fat letters” home to kids whose BMI test was in the above average percentile, but I still wasn’t fat. I had already grown bored with sports and had recently quit dancing due to multiple foot and ankle injuries, and a lack of interest, and I had gained a bit of weight, but I still was a pretty healthy and active kid. I had started my period before I got to middle school so my body was going through a ton of changes already when my parents received this letter about my weight, and luckily they were not the kind of parents to buy into all that bullshit…but it didn’t matter, because the psychological damage was done. My body was already becoming foreign to me through puberty, and then my school or the state or whoever sent those heinous things out was calling me fat, and I felt like that 9 year old girl again.

Flash forward through countless times I hated my body, times I wished I could look like the other girls in my high school who were skinny and had boyfriends, who wore size 2 prom dresses and had dates that weren’t their closeted gay best friend they were secretly in love with. My junior year of high school was the year I experienced my first bout of severe depression; I wore sweatpants to school every day (which if you knew me then or know me now, I don’t wear sweatpants in public) and didn’t care at all about what I looked like, and it’s sad that the period of time where I actually didn’t care about my appearance was a time that I wanted to just disappear altogether. I had never experienced that feeling in a healthy time, and I wouldn’t really until after college.

College is when my manic-depressiveness showed up and also when I was at the height of body issues, and when my eating disorder really took hold. I also have a history with self-harm, which I thought I had conquered by the end of high school; however, when my illness manifested and I was also dealing with my eating issues and body dysmorphia, it all bubbled back to the surface. Not only was what I was doing to my body through my disorder a form of self-harm, but I also was back to old habits…it wasn’t as bad and not as frequent, but it all goes hand in hand with each other. At the height of my disorder I was cycling through different dangerous behaviors. Some days I would meticulously eat less than 500 calories, others I would just go smoke anytime I felt hungry, I would go on disgusting binges where I went through 3 or 4 different drive thrus, it was a vicious cycle and mixed with the up and downs of mania and depression, I was a wreck.

In my depressions, I wouldn’t care what I looked like, dressing in big sweaters and just going about my day, or skipping classes to lie in bed. Or in the height of my manias, I would skip class to go shopping, go drink black coffee and chain smoke, or get dressed up like I thought I was the hottest person in the world and go out to bars and get trashed. I was a wreck, and I was living completely recklessly, all the while I didn’t know who’s body I was living in but it surely wasn’t mine. I was out of my body, I was out of my mind. I was using coffee, cigarettes, alcohol, and shopping as a substitute for food when I was on my highs…and then I would come crashing down and go on a binge. I would hate myself, berate myself for eating so much food before going to the bathroom to purge. The funny thing is that in movies and tv they make it look like it’s easy, and like it’s not disgusting, and both of those are false. As someone who hates vomit and throwing up, how did I do that to myself for years? It still baffles me.

I have had therapists that one of the first things I mentioned during intake was that I had an unhealthy relationship with food and my body, and out right told them I struggled with disordered eating habits. They would nod, seem to make note of it, and it was never mentioned again unless I was the one who brought it up. Mind you, this was when I was in the height of my disorder. I knew I had a problem, I was practically screaming for help, and no one did anything.

I’ve never had doctors who ever sensed that there was anything wrong. I have never been what anyone would consider a “typical” eating disorder candidate. I have never been severely underweight, in fact, throughout even the worst points of my disorder I remained overweight (not as uncommon as mainstream media would have you believe). However, this assumption is dangerous because I was suffering and doing really dangerous things to my body, like popping laxatives like candy and restricting to the point my entire body was in pain from hunger…but no doctor would ever think there was a problem because I wasn’t rapidly losing weight, and even if I had been, I’ve always been encouraged by doctors to lose weight since I’ve always been the “big girl”, in fact the last time I went to the doctor was for a routine meds check in to get refills. He spent about two minutes talking about how I’m doing with my medications before coming out with “what are you doing about your weight?” When I said “not a whole lot” he was less than thrilled. He immediately launched into an attempt to push me and shame me into a diet that not only sounded physically dangerous for anyone, but also specifically volatile for someone with a history of disordered eating – fasting and hyper-restriction just isn’t a good idea for someone with an eating disorder. I didn’t bother to tell him about my disorder (which is nowhere in my medical records, by the way) because I knew that if he was saying the things he was and already had, he would dismiss me the same way so many others had.

It’s more common than the general public would think for people suffering from eating disorders to not look like the stereotype of hyper-thinness and be severely underweight, though this is the image that is perpetuated, and the knee-jerk image we think of when we hear the words eating disorder. This stereotyping becomes a big problem when it comes to those who have average or even overweight bodies, an arguably dangerous problem. A lot of people who are struggling – and yes, their struggle is just as real and legitimate – may think it’s not bad to keep hurting their bodies because their pain can’t be “that bad” because their behavior isn’t as extreme as somebody else, because their weight isn’t down to double digits, because they’re not as sick as some other girl they know with a disorder, because they’ve never had to be committed to a hospital or gone through inpatient treatment, because it’s just not that bad.

But no matter your size, your pain is real.

If you have an eating disorder, and if you are “curvy”, or “average” or fat, or “seemingly healthy”, your pain is still just as real as all those other people. There are many forms of scars left by eating disorders, even when it may be invisible. I have premature acid reflux issues from purging, and stomach issues that were never a problem before, probably due to laxative abuse. A dear friend of mine has suffered with bulimia for more than a decade. She has never had a body type that looked like the typical image of someone with an eating disorder, but her throat is internally scarred and damaged from years of purging. She has put in the work for her recovery, she has gone to therapy and is doing well, but she is still left with those scars – physical and mental – of an eating disorder, even though you couldn’t ever “see” it. That doesn’t make her suffering less valid, doesn’t make her pain any less real. I know other women who have been one of those girls who got scary skinny. Hospitalization, feeding tubes, inpatient treatment, etc. Though thankfully they seem to be doing alright now. But they were lucky, we were all lucky. Some of them don’t ever even own the fact that they ever had an eating disorder even though they hit that threshold. The first friend has never been “that girl”, yet she will forever wear the scars left by bulimia. I’ve never been “that girl”, yet I wear my eating disorder, I own it, because for me it’s always been invisible.

It’s an interesting juxtaposition that I spoke about times I felt like I wanted to disappear, and how invisible this struggle has been and still remains to be.

My disorder was never dealt with in a formal setting and therefore, I am still violently triggered at any suggestion that I regulate what I eat in any form that resembles calorie counting or restricting. I still picture purging any time I throw up for any reason, to the extent that I often keep it secret even if it is due to illness, because eating disorders are built on secrets, and those habits die hard. And though I personally have half-dealt with the actual behaviors, I still haven’t mended my relationship with food.
For a long time, I haven’t been what anyone would consider “small” in size. I’m tall, and as a kid I was always tall for my age so my weight, while still above average, was distributed fairly well. I don’t remember exactly when I became fat, somewhere in college maybe? Or was it during high school? I guess it would depend who you ask. But I do know that I’ve never felt, since I was probably in middle school, that I had a normal or average body type. I’ve always felt like the “big girl”, whether I was or not.


Source, Quote: Kelly Duarte @kellayday, Artwork: Shannen Roberts @cusicoyllurmusic

So I find myself at an interesting crossroads. I love the body positivity and fat acceptance movements, I love the Health At Every Size movement in the medical community, I have read and resonated with countless articles, blogs, and books such as Jes Baker’s “Things No One Will Tell Fat Girls” and “Landwhale”. I have preached that being fat isn’t the terrible thing that the media and society tells us it is, that we don’t have to fit into the image they perpetuate to be happy or successful humans.

But there is also a large part of me, despite my knowledge of the horrors of diet culture, my issues with eating disorders, and the like, that still wants desperately to lose weight, and not necessarily for the right reasons.

I want to be able to wear a smaller size, having been in the same size jeans the majority of my adolescent and adult life. I want to be able to go into any store and find clothes that I love and that fit my body, not having to order special sizes because they aren’t sold in that store but the company carries them, not having to shop in specialty plus size stores where clothes are twice as expensive, not having to settle for clothes that aren’t my personal style just because they fit. I want to look the way that I’ve always thought I needed to for people to want to date me or sleep with me. And I also hate that there is a part of me that wants all these things when I also know that I am not the problem, my body is not the problem. But how do you unlearn a lifetime of these feelings? Having them legitimized and reconfirmed by everyone and everything around you? How do you reclaim a body that has been forever stolen and twisted by these ideals we’ve always been told it’s normal to have?

How do I teach that part of myself that the fashion industry has pigeonholed me into the category of plus size because they have, for centuries, dictated what “straight size” meant and what sizes were included in mainstream stores? How do I teach that part of me that there are people out there who will want to date me or sleep with me with this body and actually find me attractive without wanting me to be a certain size or body type, and also not fetishize my fatness?

I know that diet culture is bullshit; always unhealthy, and often unsafe. I know that a body can be “overweight” but also still healthy (mine is mostly, as far as physical health). I know that women’s clothing sizes are arbitrary and that clothes are just clothes, and it doesn’t matter what number is on the tag inside. But how do you reconcile this knowledge with a society that still has all these size-based oppressive systems in place?

How does someone live happily in a body that has been under constant scrutiny since they can remember? How do you put an eating disorder to rest and also try to have the best body for you, even if that means that it doesn’t fit the mold of “acceptable” or “attractive”?

How – after nothing but criticism, dysmorphia, disorder, chaos, and hatred – do you reclaim a body?

If you are struggling with an eating disorder, or disordered behaviors, body dysmorphia, or just an unhealthy relationship with food or your body, please check out the National Eating Disorders Association for resources.

If you want to learn more about accepting your body, I encourage you to check out some of these links to amazing babes doing the work:

Jes Baker – The Militant Baker (also author of “Landwhale” and “Things No One Will Tell Fat Girls”)

Sonya Renee Taylor – The Body Is Not An Apology: The Power of Radical Self-Love

Megan Jayne Crabbe – aka @bodyposipanda (author of “Body Positive Power”)


Faster Than a Speeding Bullet: Review of Sixty from SXOhh


First Impressions

I was recently sent the Sixty, currently the only toy from a new line, SXOhh. I love that this is a woman-owned company.

The Sixty is a sleek, aesthetically pleasing design made with buttery-soft silicone, the magnetic charging makes it waterproof which is always a plus, and the small size of the charger makes it easily portable if you like to take your toys on the go, or if you don’t have a lot of room for clunky charging docks. So overall, I think the visual design is attractive, streamlined, and practical.

The product marketing runs on the claim that the Sixty will take you from 0 to orgasm in under a minute which we will discuss more later, but just know that this isn’t a part that I’m totally in love with.

Okay, but how does it actually perform?

I have been testing out this toy off and on for the past couple of months, and we’ll get to why it’s been off and on.

Right out the gate, the vibrations are powerful. And I mean powerful. The lowest setting is like a jackhammer (not necessarily a bad thing), and while I understand the gimmick and branding of the whole “orgasm in 60 seconds” thing, that’s not always the case.

Every body is different and it’s also not necessarily a desirable outcome. Sometimes orgasm isn’t the number one goal of sex or masturbation, I personally love edging and a nice drawn out session before I orgasm, even when I’m masturbating.

This toy has a lot of patterns…and probably about 90% of the time, I hate patterns. I’m sure that there are plenty of people who enjoy them, though I feel like lately I’ve heard or read from many others who feel the same as I do, so why don’t toys have a wider range of power settings and less patterned vibrations?

Another thing about this toy is that it is really loud, largely due to the sheer amount of power in the toy. This isn’t going to be a negative for some, however, I and many other folx my age do not live alone, or just don’t want a toy that’s so loud and indiscreet. Because it is so powerful from the beginning, it makes a lot of noise. To the point where I don’t use it unless I’m home alone.


My critiques aside, I do enjoy the toy, but I don’t find myself reaching for it frequently, hence the off and on testing. I am not typically at home alone, especially at times that I want to use a toy (e.g. night time after I’ve gone to bed), so lack of discretion doesn’t make this a good toy to reach for when I want to get off before I go to sleep and there is someone in the next room that I’d rather not hear my vibrator buzzing away.

I have gotten off many times with this toy, though not in sixty seconds. I don’t love internal vibration, and don’t typically orgasm from penetration, at least not penetration alone. My favorite thing is intense (but not too intense!), prolonged clitoral stimulation which I find tricky to achieve with the Sixty, though not impossible, it just takes some finessing, and I have rarely ventured past the lowest setting during actual play as the higher settings tend to make my clitoris want to retract into by body and run away screaming.

Most of the times I have used this toy, it was more like a large bullet – which is arguably my favorite kind of toy for various reasons – rather than a small internal vibrator, though it does have a length that works for penetrative play if that’s what you want, and it does a good job of g-spot stimulation due to its shape.


Final thoughts

This toy is an aesthetically pleasing, well functioning design, and while not for everyone, there are definitely aspects that make it a great toy. If you are a power lover, you may have found your new favorite vibrator, or if you sometimes just want to go full throttle with some intense vibrations then the Sixty may be for you.

All opinions are my own, however, I do have an affiliation partnership with SXOhh. If you are interested in testing out the Sixty for yourself, check it out here.

Kinky, Submissive, and Still a Feminist


So I suppose if I’m writing about my entire experience or identity as a kinky individual, I should probably start at the beginning of my sexual discovery. I wasn’t oblivious of sexuality until I was a teen or a young adult and then one day, had some miraculous sexual awakening.  I wasn’t having vanilla sex for years and then one day had a partner spank me or pin my arms down and then realize what I’d been missing all along. I started discovering my kinky side when I was probably about eleven or twelve, though I didn’t have words for it yet and it was definitely surrounded by a feeling of shame and secrets, which I am still in the process of unlearning.

I had my first period the summer I was eleven, and in the time surrounding that was when I started exploring my body and learning the different things it was capable of.  I distinctly remember the first time I masturbated, not having the vocabulary to know that’s what I was doing, but grabbing something in my room that looked like it might work and going to town in front of my Orlando Bloom poster.  After that initial experience, I was addicted, finding any free time and short moment of privacy I had to recreate this new thing I had found out my body could do…typical adolescent behavior right? I eventually discovered porn – and we can get into all of the problematic themes and practices later, I didn’t know better, I was like 13 – which just upped the game. With no concept of what BDSM actually was, I ventured into that section for some reason, and the plot thickens. I had moved on from Orlando Bloom and started watching and masturbating to some of the raunchiest BDSM/bondage porn I’ve seen to date. I was always met with feelings of shame afterward, not knowing what any of this meant but feeling sure that I was wrong for enjoying it to any degree. When I started getting a little more creative and experimental, I would come up with scenes in my head of what was happening or being done to me. I would tie myself up with bathrobe belts, and regular belts (I had to be inventive) and get off while I was in these precarious and, I now realize, dangerous positions.

So these early discoveries and explorations of a sexuality I knew nothing about were somewhat forgotten for a while. I would still watch and get off to kinky porn, but it stayed fairly on the surface and definitely wasn’t something I ever shared with anyone or talked about…until college.

I am someone with a very strong, independent, dominant personality. I am a feminist and believe in women thinking, succeeding, and doing for themselves; we don’t need men to help us get through life. So how do I balance that with also being sexually submissive? What does that look like? And how does one navigate these two seemingly contradictive paths? To me it feels immensely empowering to tell someone that I am kinky (though this doesn’t usually happen except with people I trust or in a setting where I know I am not in a position of harm). It feels like an act of rebellion in a way, because being deviant from the sexual “norm” is still fairly taboo, even with the recent popularity of Fifty Shades of Grey […we can talk about my thoughts on that later…], the mainstream public still has only gotten a very tame and mild taste of any sort of “alternative sexuality”.  People who practice and perform “kink” are not necessarily a small group, but because of the stigma and taboo associated with “sexually deviant lifestyles”, there are not always many who readily talk publicly about it.

The biggest moment in my adult kink discoveries (so far) is probably when I created a FetLife profile. I had never had access to so many people involved in or interested in some part of this community, even having attended conferences with BDSM/kink focused workshops and a seminar given by a professional dominatrix, so many people were hesitant to open up much about their interests and experiences. I, of course, have encountered plenty of men who want to control me, want to bark orders via chat messages, or who are only there to demand nudes with no respect to the community or practices of a proper BDSM relationship or encounter…but I have also come across people who have been helpful and become friends or mentors able to carry on intelligent conversations and impart knowledge of how to navigate the BDSM world, particularly as a female submissive who are often taken advantage of in numerous ways.

So how does a feminist with a strong dominant personality navigate also being a sexual submissive? The honest answer is that I’m still figuring it out and learning what that means for me. It is an interesting balance.

As a feminist, I believe in equality. I believe in equal rights for all genders. I hate the idea of women being the “fairer sex” that needs to be taken care of and helped through life by men. I am not an object for consumption. I have seen toxic masculinity running rampant, I am immersed in a patriarchal society full of misogyny and sexism and these are things I am dedicated to fighting. Because of this, many think or ask how I can, in turn, let a man control me and tell me what to do in bed. Firstly, this is making the assumption that I have only male partners, which is not the case. Secondly, and most importantly to me is the distinction between a situation in which I am choosing to give control over to someone, rather than situations in which it is assumed that I should not have the choice to make my own decisions.

Submission is a choice, and something that is given, not taken. And I believe that in many ways, it takes more strength than dominance. That is not to discount or discredit the dedication and attention that is required to be a successful and good Dom…but the level of trust that a sub is placing in their partner takes great strength of will.

collar and button  [me, wearing white collar with silver studs and a hot pink button that says feminists are the majority]

Many women are taking back and reclaiming pleasure, whether after sexual trauma, a bad relationship, a long period without any sort of sexual stimulation, etc. Women’s sexual pleasure is most definitely a feminist act, particularly in a society where we are taught to be ashamed of sexual desires and pleasures…that men are the ones with the sex drive, and the focus is almost always on their pleasure over anyone else’s. Well, we are flipping that narrative on its head, because not only are women (and other non cis-male bodies) interested in sex, but we desire pleasure from it as well. That may not always mean orgasm, but pleasure nonetheless.

For so many that are making this reclamation of their pleasure, masturbation is where it starts, and for me, kink is an integral and important part of masturbation, and my pleasure. Therefore, by association, my kink too is a feminist act because it is through kink and BDSM that I am reclaiming the pleasure that I have been denied in numerous situations and for myriad reasons. As an overweight woman, for a long time I felt that I was undeserving of the same sexual pleasures others were afforded, or at least that they were not available to me, because of my size. There have been plenty of vanilla interactions in which pleasure was not made readily available to me because my partner’s focus was on his own pleasure, and there was no stimulation of any kind really, for me. Keep in mind that only around 25% of women (I feel that is a generous estimate) orgasm just from vaginal penetration*, and while orgasm is not always the ultimate goal of sex, and sexual pleasures, I am definitely one of the nearly 86% or so of women who require some other sort of stimulation (whether it be clitoral, anal, etc.) to reach orgasm.

So while many may look at a sexually submissive woman and think that she is backwards, subservient, and the exact opposite of a feminist…look again, and think about whose choice it was for her to be on her knees, or to be tied to a bed post. She wasn’t forced there, she chose to be there; if you removed her bonds, she likely would remain in the same vulnerable position because her submission has already been given, the cuffs and ropes and blindfolds are merely tools to carry out fantasies.


*Castleman, M., M.A. (2009, March 16). The Most Important Sexual Statistic. Retrieved from https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/all-about-sex/200903/the-most-important-sexual-statistic



Coming Into My Identity


I suppose I’m taking the cliché route and writing my first official blog post, on my queer blog, about my “coming out” story, or my queer/bisexual journey.

But I figured it would be a good place to start, to give some insight into how I got to this point, where I stand now with my queer identity, how I came to call myself queer proudly, and just a general look at me.

In the queer or LGBTQ+ community, there is a lot of emphasis still put on the “coming out” narrative, and people are still obsessed with folks’ “coming out” stories…but for most individuals, it’s more complicated than one succinct, compact, tied-with-a-ribbon story, because “coming out” doesn’t just happen one time, and sometimes it doesn’t happen at all.

I personally prefer not to look at it as “coming out”, but more as a “coming in”. We are finally stepping into and occupying these identities that we hold. The idea of the closet holds so many negative connotations, and many queer individuals feel a lot of pressure to come out because being “in the closet” is still so stigmatized within the LGBT community.

The reality is that coming out is an extremely personal decision, and for reasons of privacy, safety, job security, etc. it should be left to that individual to decide if, when, how, and to what extent to “come out”. I have been coming out since I was sixteen, and am still not truly 100% “out” (we’ll revisit this topic in a later post), but I chose when and who to tell, and did so because it was what I was comfortable with and what worked for me.

I stepped into my “non-straight” identity for the first time when I was sixteen years old by telling my best friend at the time. I had been confused and questioning my sexuality for about a year because I believed I had a crush on another friend of mine that was a girl. I knew I wasn’t a lesbian because I was still very much attracted to guys, but I went back and forth on thinking maybe this was just a fluke and I was still straight, it was just this one girl. Finally I was honest with myself that this wasn’t a fluke, and I told the one person that I told everything to that I knew I was attracted to girls…but I still didn’t use the term bisexual.

The time I was in high school was, I feel, the peak of when people would say that anyone who said they were “bisexual” was just looking for attention or making something up to be different. I never felt that way about anyone, but because that idea was so pervasive at the time, I shied away from associating myself with it.

So I told my best friend I knew I was attracted to girls and guys, and he was the only person that knew for two years. Over that time I struggled to figure out even what to identify as to myself, because if “bisexual” meant slutty and looking for attention, then that wasn’t me, and I began to internalize that idea. For a good part of those two years I ignored it all and got wrapped up in a crush that I was convinced was love, on the aforementioned best friend, and I focused on him.

Fast forward through those times, the biggest heartbreak of my life (so far), and the ending of our friendship (which I’m sure we will come back to in a later post), to the first time I called myself bisexual, and it changed everything.

In the Fall of 2011, I was in my first year of university. It was around early October and I had just discovered my school’s student-led LGBT organization. I still wasn’t “out” to any of my roommates, friends at school, or friends back home, and I wanted to explore and discover this on my own, so I went to my first meeting by myself and it was amazing. I had been involved in my high school’s GSA (gay-straight alliance) and was always accepting of anything LGBT, but I had never seen so many out, loud and proud people in one room before. I made a friend that night and he became my introductory mentor to the group. After the meeting, we were talking and he casually asked me how I identified, and without thinking about it much or skipping a beat, I told him I was bi, he accepted it as my truth as easily as if I had told him my hair was brown, and in that moment my life changed.

I started telling my new friends at college, I started going to every meeting each week and quickly making new friends, and like the old cliché, over Thanksgiving break, I came out to my best friends I’ve kept since middle school.

It continued on like that, my queer community and chosen family forming around me, and I completely immersed myself in all of it. The word that I once had shied away from and been ashamed to associate with was now an identity I had thrust myself into full force, and with pride.

Why bisexual? At the time I began learning about and realizing my sexuality, I had a limited lexicon of terms to choose from, and it was the only one I had to describe what I was feeling. As my bonds strengthened with my university organization, and my LGBT family, I began to learn more about the spectrum of gender and sexuality, and the different identities that people occupy.

The first time I heard someone identify as Queer was in a panel held by my newfound organization. The individual who held this identity explained her personal definition of the term and something clicked inside me. It just described everything I felt I was, even things that bisexual never quite reached, and I knew it was a term I liked and identified with.

I still use both; for myself because both still resonate with me, for different situations because in some settings one may feel more right or fitting than the other, and for others because as much as many folks don’t like the idea of labels, I find them liberating. It is an identity that I can step into and feel validated, I can share my truth and have a common ground on which to connect with others who share at least part of that identity.

The process of “coming out” is never truly done, and it isn’t a one-size-fits-all. But this is how I discovered myself and came in to being bisexual.