Ménage à moi
Normalizing female masturbation - an excerpt from ORCA
Hey, hey they say I better get a chaperone
Because I can’t stop messin’ with the danger zone
Hey, hey I won’t worry, and I won’t fret
Ain’t no law against it yet
Oop, she bop, she bop
She bop, he bop, we bop
I bop, you bop, they bop
Be bop, be bop, a lu bop
(I hope he will understand)
She bop, he bop, we bop
I bop, you bop, they bop
Be bop, be bop, a lu she bop
Oh, she do, she bop, she bop
-Cyndi Lauper
Let’s normalize the conversation about female masturbation.
Because it is a normal/common/regular/nothing-to-see-here activity and shouldn’t be taboo. Especially for the people who don’t want their girls engaging in sex at too young of an age. Why not encourage the safest sex act of all? The solo sex act that doesn’t involve STDs or possible pregnancy or navigating the complexity of another person’s wants/desires when one is still figuring out their own body and mind.
Plus the information a girl learns about herself and her body is invaluable.
Thirteen years old.
The first time I masturbated.
In my bedroom, late at night, under the covers, in my underwear and a night shirt. I don’t recall what I was thinking about or what led up to that moment, but my bedroom walls were covered in Duran Duran posters. I was a Simon Le Bon girl. And I distinctly remember what I used. A nail polish bottle. Not sure of the color. Probably something in the 1980s neon spectrum. What mattered was that it was something hard and small to run back and forth, over my pink bean. With a layer of cotton underwear betwixt and between.
Polish the pearl - flick the bean - tickle the taco - pet the kitty
The first object, for the first time, for other female friends?
Pillow
Mattress
Blanket
Stuffed animal
Candle
Marker or pen
Tool handles
Remote control
Doorknob
Fruits and vegetables. Part of a healthy and balanced diet.
Hairbrush. The handle. Not the brush side, silly.
Electric toothbrush. Not the brush side, weirdo.
Shower-head/tub faucet
Jacuzzi jet
Washer/dryer vibrations
Mardi gras beads
I recently engaged in an online discussion about how young is too young for a young woman to use a vibrator and if it’s appropriate for her mother to help her acquire one. I surmise that most moms would answer with a hard NO, because of the stigma and embarrassment attached, but there are some mothers out there that want their daughters to feel comfortable exploring their own bodies and developing a healthy relationship with sex and boundaries therein.
Wouldn’t you rather your daughter use an item that is made for the sole purpose of masturbation than improvise with a household item that could potentially injure, irritate, or infect the area? Wouldn’t you want your daughter to know what an orgasm feels like before they begin having sex with someone else, particularly the opposite sex, since so many of their male counterparts don’t know how to make it happen or don’t consider it at all?
Bop the beaver - fondle the flower - tend the garden - mix the muffin
I moved on to the classic hand-held shower-head. Though that could cause discomfort, depending on the pressure/setting and pH balance of the water. And then eventually I bought my very first vibrator, a straight-up, grape-purple. hard-plastic phallus, when I was nineteen. I received a small, silver bullet vibrator in a swag bag once. A boyfriend bought me a life-like looking pink dildo that was silicone and squishy. At one point I had four vibrators/dildos and not enough time to use any of them.
One time I had a lover who freaked out when I introduced a vibrator into our session. He was offended. I apologized and retired my vibrator for the duration. I had to promptly retire from that relationship too. Why be threatened by a toy that was helping me get off? It’s not as if I was asking to peg him. The first sex act most humans experience shouldn’t be banned from the sex list. Besides, he should have noticed and cared whether or not I had an orgasm the way HE DID every single time we fucked.
When I got married the first time, I disposed of my bedroom buddies. I imagined not needing them anymore now that I had a contractually obligated sex partner. But when he went away for weeks or months at a time for work, I sure did miss the ease of an electronic pleasure stick.
Paddle the pink canoe - flap the meat curtains - stir the honey pot - strum the strings
This lack of devices brought me to the next level I hadn’t truly explored in-depth before.
My own hands and fingers.
It required practice, a spoonful of lubrication, and freshly washed hands, and it left me with the smug satisfaction that I wasn’t totally numbing my clitoris with a toy.
Losing sensitivity through regular vibrator use happens but isn’t a given.
It depends on the type of vibrator, intensity, and friction. Some vibrators can cause problems. There’s no education or class on how to choose the right vibrator for yourself. One that doesn’t bruise or make the clitoral nerve endings super “nervy” in the not good way. There should be. And women aren’t a monolith, so I’m not saying that women don’t experience this numbing phenomenon. But I never have. I assumed I would. Maybe I didn’t use it enough to reach that point.
But the idea that regular vibrator use will make orgasm impossible with a partner is the common knowledge passed around. I believed it and had fear about regular use. For me, while the vibrator use made orgasms easier to achieve in a shorter amount of time, the nerve endings didn’t change in my clitoris. However, my patience level did change. In that, I didn’t have any. When a regular partner fumbled and stumbled with my clitoris, after many sex sessions, I thought, why am I bothering to placate the ego of a man who isn’t even trying to retain the information he should have learned about my body by now when I can easily do this for myself? I can simply have my orgasm, my way, in the safety of my own home, stay in my comfy clothes, fix myself a snack I don’t have to share, and then go to sleep or read or watch whatever I want on TV whilst I control the remote.
Unfortunately that only works part of the time.
I do need a man.
And his tongue.
Hi! This is my clitoris. There is good pressure and not-so good pressure. Faster. Now slower. To the right. To the left. Up. Down. Harder. Harder. Too hard. Softer. Suction. Not so much. More. Less. More. Yes. Yes. Yes. Lost it. Crap. So close. Reset.
The goal post changes every time, especially as hormones change, and often while in the middle of chasing down that orgasm. That’s part of the mystery of the female vulva. Ever evolving, ever changing, always exciting. And when the yes, yes, yes, does connect, it’s a magical doorway to the garden of FUCK YES!
How is it that too many heterosexual men can be proficient at everything but the pleasuring of the vulvarine?
They know what they like. They expect to get what they like. And women do whatever they like. Why don’t they reciprocate? Why don’t they put in the effort to learn? Maybe if women were made to feel comfortable touching themselves in front of their partners, everyone would learn a thing or two about her hoo-hoo.
I have become my own sex expert over the years.
I read the books. Listen to the podcasts. Watch the Docs. Do the Google searches. Talk to the more sexually experienced and/or adventurous friends. Definitely talk to my gay male friends. Those gents know their dick. And all the while I have found my inner sexual revolution while sailing solo.
Ping the love button - pinch the dumpling - rub the raspberry - diddle Miss Daisy
There is nothing shameful about masturbation. And being educated about one’s own clitoris. Masturbation is good for a woman’s mental health. It’s a stress reducer and self-esteem builder. Masturbation is good for a woman’s physical health. It keeps natural juices flowing while in-between partners, the proverbial dry spell, and it can release pain, improve sleep, and strengthen the muscle tone in the pelvic and anal areas. Masturbation is fun and feels good. As it should.
And as I navigate my body during perimenopause, with my up and down libido and waning estrogen, I do check in with myself. It’s important to know how my vagina/vulva is feeling. What’s new, pussycat? Woah, woah! What are you interested in these days? Any new hobbies? Anything left to check off on your bucket list? I anticipate a lot of years of good sex ahead of me. Hopefully well into my 90s. Hehe. And loving myself will always be on the menu.