The Myth of the Lesbian Sex Toy

I need to tell you something. It’s not a secret, so there’s no need to gather round closely, or whisper this one in hushed tones behind closed doors. Please, for the love of goddess, shout this from the rooftops: despite what some retailers promote on their websites or in their stores, there is no such thing as “gay and lesbian sex toys”.

I am a queer woman. I use sex toys. But my sex toys are not queer sex toys. They are simply sex toys, for use by people of any sexual orientation.

I’ve written before about the importance of companies and retailers relieving toys from any gendered categories on their website or in their stores in a post about ethical, feminist sex toy companies, which was inspired by one notoriously awful company claiming to embody feminist values who then hired an abuser to promote their condoms. Now, I’ve been inspired to write about mythical “gay and lesbian sex toys” thanks to the reactions to this tweet, which then prompted this tweet, which then prompted my investigation into a number of online retailers.

There are a huge amount of online sex shops and brick-and-mortar stores that categorize sex toys by sexual orientation. I will not link to any of those shops here, but they are easily found. It doesn’t take much searching. Most often, these categories are named “gay and lesbian toys” or are are separated into “gay toys” and “lesbian toys”. During the aforementioned investigating, I even found a retailer with a “gay masturbation” category. (What is that? Please, someone, enlighten me.) The toys in these “gay and lesbian” categories are often strap-on kits, including dildos and harnesses, anal toys, like plugs or beads, and strokers, but this is definitely not an exhaustive list. Retailers put all kinds of toys under their “gay and lesbian” section.

I want to make one thing clear: this isn’t about queering sex toys. I deeply believe that movements, frameworks, and things in our lives can be queered – for example, examining how we can queer sex education to center queer and trans people in curricula, how we can queer the sexual freedom movement so that people of marginalized genders and sexual orientations are represented, or how we can queer perceptions of sex toy usage by highlighting their revolutionary importance for lots of queer folks who are exploring their bodies or re-discovering pleasure after trauma (like me!).

I could write a book on each of those topics. But this is not about queering: this is about presenting factual information on retailer websites and in stores, removing stigma from sex toy use, and understanding that sex toys are not sexual orientation or gender specific.

Categorizing certain sex toys as “gay and lesbian” is not just inaccurate and frustrating: it shows a real, radical misunderstanding of both sex toys and queerness. This misunderstanding starts with language. Where are the sex toys specifically branded for bisexual, pansexual, and queer people? Are queer people who do not identify as gay or lesbian allowed to use sex toys? What about straight folks who enjoy strap-on sex or anal play? Are gay and lesbian people only allowed to use the certain toys listed in their specific category? Of course not. Any toy can be used by queer folks, not just anal beads, plugs, strokers, or strap-ons – people of all sexual orientations can use any toy they like, but these questions expose the ridiculousness of such separatist branding.

The most common arguments I hear in favor of categorizing sex toys by sexual orientation (and gender) relate to targeting, marketing, and SEO. To me, this boils down to one thing: does your company prioritize marginalized people, or does your company only care about making money at the expense of queer people’s identities? By simply classifying toys according to what they are (what a novel concept!) instead of who you think they will appeal to, your company will move towards inclusivity and attract folks who do not feel alienated by your branding. It’s a win-win all around.

Sex toys are for everyone. It’s that simple.

If you own or work at a sex toy company and want to do a deeper dive on centering queer and trans people in your business model, you can contact me to discuss my consulting fee.

Sponsored by Naughty North. All writing here is my own.

Blogger disclosure: sponsors on Formidable Femme are simply paid advertisers and do not necessarily represent companies I would personally endorse, recommend, or work with past the terms of an advertising contract.

Yes, I’m a Sex Blogger and No, I Don’t Care About Your Dick

12440436_10208036060434288_8092769452656443317_o (1)

Two days ago, I was enjoying a sleepy, lazy morning in bed after an invigorating (but exhausting) conference in Washington, D.C. As I slowly came to consciousness, I admired the daylight peeking through my blinds and listened to the bubbling fountain in my apartment courtyard. I felt truly rested for the first time in almost a week. Basking in the morning glow, I reached across my bed to check the time on my phone.

“u get my cock so rock hard thank u baby xoxoxoxo” popped up on the screen, a tweet from a man who calls himself “Bob in Daytona Beach” and whose entire timeline is comprised of an odd amalgam of happy birthday salutations and tweets about his rock hard cock. And the most bizarre part? The tweet Bob in Daytona Beach responded to was about bread. Yes, bread.

Is Bob in Daytona Beach a bot, or is he real? The world may never know, but that’s not really the point. The point is that someone, somewhere took time to either send us a message personally, or create a bot account that targets people who talk about sex on the internet. (Or bread, apparently.)

Rock-hard-bread-dick-guy is not an anomaly or an outlier: he represents the huge swath of men who take it upon themselves to attempt to disrupt women’s lives and intrude on our joy. Women and non-binary folks are constantly harassed for simply existing: this is particularly true if you are a woman or non-binary person who is visible on the internet, and painfully true for sex bloggers and educators.

And the common denominator in this sex blogger and educator harassment? Cis men talking about their dicks. (Which is also the common denominator in a staggering amount of all harassment, let’s be real.)

About a year and a half ago, I added “sex educator” to my online dating profiles when I accepted an educator position at a feminist sex shop. I had just begun this blog at that time as well, but was much less open about it than I am now, and I was worried about misogynistic men finding my website and outing me.

What a difference two words can make. The messages started flooding in:

“You’re a sex educator? I bet you could teach me something I don’t know about my cock ;)”

“plz suck my dick baby, I bet you give the best head”

“Can you give me a masturbation lesson?”

And on. And on. And on.

Now, I get emails about dicks. I get mentions and direct messages on Twitter about dicks. I get comments and direct messages on Instagram about dicks. Men send me pictures of their dicks on all of these channels. And I’m not the only one – ask almost any sex blogger out there and they’ll sing you the same sad song.

There is an instant switch in men’s demeanor when I mention I’m a sex blogger. Whether it’s on Tinder or OKCupid, on Twitter, or in a bar or at a party, the reaction is usually the same. The questions I get are rarely respectful: I’m fine with people asking more about my blog, or about how I came to this work. Unfortunately, most men I share this information with immediately want to know how can benefit them and their dicks.

Let me make this crystal clear: I do not care about your dick. I do not want to see it. I do not want to hear about it. It means nothing to me. I do not exist as a receptacle for dick, physically or virtually.

Formidable Femme exists because I wanted to create a space to talk about sex, queerness, depression, trauma, and sex toys on the internet. Formidable Femme does not exist for men to interrupt the space I carved out for myself and the space I enjoy with my fellow sex bloggers and friends.

Your unsolicited dick is not welcome here. Respect this.

I demand respect both online and offline because I deserve it. I deserve respect because I exist. Part of respecting me is allowing me to live freely without harassment.

If you are considering sending a message about your dick to anyone, sex blogger or educator or not, just don’t. I don’t care about your dick. Other people don’t care about your dick. And we never will.

I’m on My Way to Woodhull’s Sexual Freedom Summit!

woodhull!
A peek into my blog planner! (Woodhull travel day and National Watermelon Day? What a treat!)

In just two short hours, I’ll be in the air, making my way to Alexandria, Virginia for Woodhull’s Sexual Freedom Summit!

Woodhull’s Sexual Freedom Summit is a pilgrimage of sorts for the sex blogging community. I so desperately wanted to attend last year (and I even lived just half an hour from the conference hotel), but I had a demanding and unhealthy work schedule, and was unable to make it. Now, my absence last year doesn’t even matter: I’m glad that 2016’s conference will be my very first Summit. I’ve been blogging for over a year now, and I feel comfortable in this community and elated to be a member of the Blogsquad.

And the very best part about this whole trip? I get to meet the incredible sex bloggers who have now become my friends; those brilliant, talented people who first inspired me to create Formidable Femme a year and a half ago. I’ve written before about what this community means to me, and I’m bursting at the seams with excitement at the opportunity to actually meet all of these bloggers in person and spend four wonderful days with them.

Of course, I would be remiss if I didn’t mention the fantastic line-up of speakers, educational workshops, and events at the Summit. While I wish I could be at every single session, I’m particularly looking forward to Self Publishing for Radicals, Embodied Consent and the Cultural Lie of Sexual Desirability, Facing the Monster Under the Bed: Continuing the Conversation About Sex and Depression, Side Effects May Vary, and, of course, SheVibe’s Blogger Pajama Party!

I’d love for you to follow along with me while I’m at the Summit! Keep up with me on Twitter at @FemmeReviews and on Instagram at @FormidableFemme. Also be sure to follow the overall Summit hashtag, #SFS16, for four days of sexual freedom goodness on your timeline!

If you want to ensure the ongoing success of Formidable Femme and my ability to continue to attend wonderful events like Woodhull’s Sexual Freedom Summit in the future, please consider making your next sex toy purchase through my affiliates in the right hand sidebar.

Thanks for reading!

What Makes A Sex Toy Company Feminist?

My feminist wall art, and my ultimate aesthetic.

Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about feminism in practice, especially in regard to sex toy companies, manufacturers, and retailers. Feminism is always on my mind, but I started reflecting heavily on this specific topic last month, when LELO, a self-proclaimed “feminist” company, announced Charlie Sheen, a man with a history of domestic violence, as their new condom spokesperson. As I continued to receive emails (as I always do) from a number of companies and retailers asking if I’d like to partner with them, review their products, or place a link on my website back to theirs for free (no), I realized that many of these companies appear misogynistic and exploit women and our bodies for their personal gain. Then, two weeks ago, my friend Kate published a brilliant essay on The Establishment called “The Dangers of Dating Faux-Feminist Men”. The wheels were turning: what about faux-feminist sex toy companies?

Before jumping in, I should also mention that all of the information below applies to all sex toy companies, whether they call themselves feminist or not. If a company is committed to sexual empowerment and equity, they should be committed to feminist values.

First and foremost, “feminist” is not a label you can slap on a sex toy company that will fix all of its problems. To be feminist, companies need to be active.

Just because a company says they’re feminist doesn’t make it true. Feminism is not a simple declaration; it requires action, critical thinking, and a constant commitment to challenge the interlocking oppressions so many of us face. Feminism also requires reflection: adopting feminist practices means allowing your company to try and fail, and when you do fail, to get back up while listening to marginalized voices, taking their expertise into account, and making changes accordingly.

LELO demonstrates this point excellently. They claim to be a feminist company, but when they unveiled Charlie Sheen as their new condom spokesperson, they refused to listen to survivors and sex workers when we told them this was a horrible, hurtful decision. (They responded by saying they are still feminist. Yeah, right.) LELO unflinchingly defended their decision, even though it meant losing the support of almost everyone in the sex blogging and sex education community.

Feminist companies must aggressively challenge heteropatriarchy, capitalism, and white supremacy, among many other things.

Companies cannot be complicit in the perpetuation of cisnormativity, heteronormativity, capitalism, patriarchy, white supremacy, fatphobia, ableism, and stigmatization of sex workers and be feminist at the same time.

Whenever feminists bring “isms” into the conversation, anti-feminist detractors come out of the woodwork, so let me just destroy that argument right now: Centering the most marginalized is not an issue of “political correctness.” It is about dignity, justice, and freedom. Making sure marginalized folks feel safe, heard, and empowered is the right thing to do.

Companies must be explicitly committed to justice in specific terms: by declaring themselves anti-racist, anti-sexist, and anti-queerphobic, etc., and having evidence of action to back those statements up. It is not enough for a company to simply “not take a stance” or assume that consumers will know they are taking steps to dismantle oppression. Silence is violence. Companies must speak up loudly, publicly, and unapologetically.

Companies can challenge these oppressions in a number of ways. I could write an entire book on this topic alone, so let’s just start with a few examples.

If a company aspires to be feminist, they should relieve sex toys of any gendered categories on their website or in their stores. For example, advertising masturbation sleeves as “penis toys” or “penetrable toys” instead of “toys for boys” goes a long way: that kind of gendered language is exclusionary and alienates trans and nonbinary folks.

Feminist companies respect people of all genders and fight for equity for people of marginalized genders. Unlike LELO, who printed “RESPECT” at the bottom of their new condom and declared it meant “Respect the man who wears it,” feminist companies take an active anti-sexist approach to their work and strive to empower women and nonbinary people at all times. (Seriously, folks, take a lesson from LELO here. Do not do what they did.)

Feminist companies also understand that representation matters. Often, the only photos companies use to advertise their products feature cis, white, slim, able-bodied people in seemingly heterosexual pairings. If I cannot see myself in your advertising, I will not purchase your products. Body diversity means including fat folks, people of color, disabled folks, and queer and trans people in advertising.

Social media is an important tool for feminist activism, but companies can also take their work to the streets. For example, does your company have an opinion on police brutality? Does your company believe that Black lives matter? (They do matter, and your company absolutely should care.) Say that on social media, and follow it up by action. Encourage employees to attend rallies, protests, and demonstrations, and if you have a brick and mortar establishment, make sure that Black folks know your store is a safe place by posting signs outside and making your commitment to fighting state-sanctioned racist violence explicit on your website and all social media channels.

Feminist companies must be ethical and equitable and resist exploiting workers, affiliates, and consumers.

This is all about capitalism. Companies must have ethical employment practices, pay workers a living wage, and offer an excellent benefits package that includes health insurance, ample amounts of paid vacation and sick leave, and at least 12 weeks of paid parental leave. Companies should encourage workers to have a work-life balance by modeling reasonable work hours: an excellent benefits package means nothing if company staff are required to work 12-hour days 6 days a week.

When working with affiliates (namely bloggers and educators), companies must either pay bloggers to review a toy or have an affiliate program (or both!). Receiving a toy “as payment” is not a thing. Let me repeat myself: receiving a toy “as payment” is not a thing. Dildos, vibrators, and paddles themselves cannot pay my bills, and they can’t pay yours either. A huge amount of work goes into reviewing toys. We bloggers communicate with company representatives, test the toy numerous times, take photos, take copious notes and write review drafts, and publicize our review through social media channels, among other things. This is labor, and we deserve to be compensated for our work.

Companies must also treat consumers with respect and dignity. Selling cheap, toxic toys to make as much of a profit as possible while making people sick in the process is not feminist. Not every person buying sex toys knows that some materials are toxic and can possibly make them sick, but some companies know this and still sell toxic toys. This is unethical, unconscionable, and unacceptable.

It’s worth mentioning that this applies to all companies across the board, not just sex toy companies or those who explicitly aim to adopt feminist practices. Every single person in the world deserves to be treated fairly and equitably.

Feminist companies take a stand.

Speaking out against injustice is part of the feminist framework, and that includes speaking out against injustice perpetuated by peers in the sex toy world.

I will never forget the companies that publicly denounced LELO when they announced their partnership with Charlie Sheen. While standing up to to other companies can be intimidating, it is also necessary. Companies may worry about losing customers or damaging their reputation if they go up against heavy hitters in this industry, and those are understandable fears, but they will also gain the respect and loyalty of many bloggers, educators, and consumers committed to social justice.

Bloggers, educators, and consumers are watching. Feminism is important to us, and for some of us, our survival as marginalized people depends on it. Feminism is not a catchy marketing phrase: it is a framework for life, justice, and freedom and something that companies should strive to make a central part of their business.

If you own or work at a sex toy company and would like to do a deeper dive on feminism in practice and challenging oppression, you can contact me to discuss my consulting fee.

I’m a Survivor, and I Will Never Support LELO Again

Content warning: abuse.

On June 14, LELO announced the launch of their new condom, HEX. They also revealed that Charlie Sheen would be their condom campaign spokesperson, saying that Sheen is the best possible person to “engage on STI prevention, condom usage and change”.

Do you know what else Charlie Sheen is? An abuser. I will not go into the details of his abuse convictions and allegations; Sarah from Marvy Darling has done so exceptionally well in her recent post, which I highly recommend. I will also not go into details about the number of LELO screw-ups in the past: Dangerous Lilly has a “Dear Lelo: I quit” masterpost and a new post about the Charlie Sheen disaster, both of which I also highly recommend.

am here to say that I am a survivor, and I am angry.

It is absolutely deplorable and unacceptable for a sexual wellness company to partner with a known abuser. It is clear to me that this decision was purely motivated by shock value and publicity, without any concern for their customers or the educators, reviewers, or stores that work with them. What about someone with a history of domestic violence screams “Yeah! We really love our customers and we want them to be comfortable endorsing and buying our products! We are REALLY committed to sexual freedom!”? (Hint: nothing.)

Furthermore, as Kitty Stryker points out on Twitter, Sheen also has a history of whorephobia, and she hoped to hear more from folks in ethical porn denouncing LELO’s decision. This was LELO’s response: “Our commitment to feminist porn is absolutely unchanged. It means a lot to us.” What about putting an abuser as your campaign’s spokesperson is feminist AT ALL? (Hint: nothing.)

LELO thinks everything is fine because when directly asked why they were partnering with a known abuser, they said their HEX partnership with Charlie Sheen is not an endorsement of his past. I am here to say that is bullshit.

Screen Shot 2016-06-16 at 2.55.41 PM

The narrative LELO is working to craft about their partnership with Charlie Sheen is so similar to the silencing and shame I experienced when I told people I was an abuse survivor. As many perpetrators of domestic violence are, my abuser was incredibly popular. In my hometown, everyone knew who he was, and everyone loved him. People didn’t believe me when I told them he abused me. Over and over again I heard awful things like, “He couldn’t have done that! He takes great care of his family. You must have imagined it.” and “Well, that wasn’t really abuse. You’re exaggerating. Do you honestly think he did that? There’s no way. He wouldn’t have so many friends if he was an abusive man.”

When LELO says that, essentially, they can ignore Sheen’s abusive past to make him the spokesperson of their new campaign, they are doing the exact same thing as the people who told me they didn’t believe that my ex-partner was abusive. When you don’t believe survivors or when you excuse a person’s history of domestic violence in favor of their other “redeeming qualities” (in this example, Charlie Sheen’s ability to speak to condom usage, in LELO’s opinion), you are complicit in a culture that blames survivors and shames us into silence.

 I will not stand for LELO’s blatant refusal to acknowledge that survivors matter. Our experiences matter. Our hopes and dreams matter. We should be able to exist without “sexual wellness companies” reopening our pain and then implying that our pain isn’t valid because the company isn’t “endorsing” past abusive behavior.

I will never support LELO again. I will never purchase their toys again or accept them for review from an independent retailer. I have removed the LELO toys I do own from my Toybox page. I will very likely dispose of those toys immediately.

If you are a survivor also struggling with LELO’s partnership with Sheen (or anything else), please know that you are loved and supported. You matter because you are here in this world, and you matter to me.

Mourning a Loss of Community… and How That Relates to Sex Toys

My mind has a tendency to wander when I masturbate. If I’m not taking notes for a toy I’m reviewing, I try to solely concentrate on my pleasure and on the sensations I’m feeling, but let’s be honest: sometimes the urge to review tomorrow’s work schedule, overanalyze a random event from the day that I felt could have been handled better, or come up with a list of reasons why the person I’m currently attracted to hasn’t texted me back yet is just too strong.

I recently experienced an intensely sad, but revelatory, mind-wandering episode. After a couple of orgasms with my favorite wand, I grabbed my go-to dildo, the VixSkin Mustang, when the following thought process ensued:

“YES, this feels so good, as usual. I know I can always count on you, Mustang!”
“Wow, I wish someone was here to use this on me. Where’s a cutie with a strap-on when you need them?”
“Hmm… no cute humans here. That sucks, and I’m feeling a little sad and lonely.”
“Yikes. I really do feel lonely. I wish there was a cutie, yeah, but what I’m really craving is community. Where are my people?”

Odd train of thought? Maybe. But connecting with my body and my pleasure has always brought my deepest, most intimate thoughts and feelings to the surface, whether good or bad.

To provide some context: I graduated from college last May, and the past year has been the most difficult time of my life. In the past twelve months, I’ve lived in three apartments, moved twice, and worked three jobs, which is a drastic change from the stability I was used to after living in my hometown for seventeen years and in my college town for four. My big plan to move to Washington D.C. and start my career fell flat on its face. While I did move to the city for my dream job right after graduation, I was miserable. My mental health was the worst it had been in years. I was working 80 hours a week and couldn’t take any time off to see friends or family. Both my social life and my precious and necessary alone time evaporated. I didn’t blog for months and felt like a failure. I knew something had to change, so in September I took a new job and moved to a new state by myself, not knowing anyone in the city I was about to call home.

The hardest thing about graduating, especially moving to a new state, has been a loss of community. In college, I was on the executive board of my schools’ student-led LGBTQ+ group for three years, sang in choir and opera for four years, and helped lead feminist activism on my campus. My college roommates were (and are) my best friends, and we had a caring, generous, and wonderful circle of queer friends we spent most of our time with. Within the walls of my university, there was no shortage of community to be found.

Post-grad life is different. There are no institutional structures designed to help you make you friends when you graduate, unlike the always-together-all-the-time college set-up of dorms, classes, off-campus apartments, and extracurricular activities. I’ve had to work hard to create my own community from scratch in my new state, and while I do have a handful of marvelous new friends here, I’m missing a true feeling of community, of solidarity, a shared understanding of queerness and feminism and being Southern and working together to fight against oppression… which is where sex toys come in.

Sex blogging came to me right when I needed it. I started my blog after discovering the sex toy reviewing community while doing research for my undergraduate senior thesis on how to craft a revolutionary model of sex education, just a couple of weeks before I graduated. So today, as I reflect on the last day of my one year blogiversary month, I am thankful for the companies I work with, the toys I’ve tested, and the ability to have a space to share my voice on everything from sex toys, to gender, to dating, to mental illness, to being an abuse survivor, but most of all I am thankful for the community I have found. When I started my blog, I never could have imagined that one year later I would be friends with the people I most admired when I was just beginning to research the world of sex blogging.

This blog and the community I’ve found through it have been the only constants in my life in the past twelve months. While I wish all my blogging pals lived near me (Woodhull’s Sexual Freedom Summit can’t come soon enough!), I know I can jump on Twitter anytime and talk about any topic – from moving states, to dating, to outrage over misogynist assholes, to Tinder weirdos – and receive instant support from my fellow bloggers and Twitter friends. This community lifts me up in the good times, comforts me in the bad times, and encourages me to be my authentic self all the time. Whether I’m playing Scrabble with Girly Juice on Facebook, live-tweeting Scandal and How To Get Away With Murder with Lilith, talking about the political climate in our state with Sugarcunt, gushing about femme feels with Artemisia, over Snapchat, or chatting with the plethora of other thoughtful, brilliant bloggers I’m lucky to be acquainted with, I know this community has my back. And it’s a beautiful feeling.

So, while I may still crave a community in my new home, I know I have one among my fellow sex bloggers, too. When I feel lonely while masturbating again (which will inevitably happen, I’m sure), I know I can tweet my feelings out or private message my wonderful sex geek friends and receive instant support and feedback. What a wonderful world.

My Masturbation Playlist

A few months ago, I packed up everything I own, moved on my own to a new city in a new state for a new job, and started the next big chapter of my life. The entire move was done hastily and quickly turned into a complete disaster: the moving company took a full month to deliver my furniture, so I ended up sleeping on the floor for a few weeks, alone in my bare apartment surrounded only by the few still-packed boxes I was able to fit in my car.

When the rest of my belongings finally arrived, I knew I would have to spend a weekend unpacking and truly getting my apartment in order. Even though I had lived in my new home for a month, it was completely empty. So I did what anyone else would do: put on a great playlist and got to work.

Almost absentmindedly, I searched for London Grammar’s album If You Wait, one of my favorites. When the first song, “Hey Now,” came on, I felt like I had been punched in the gut. I was immediately flooded with feelings and emotions I hadn’t felt for a long time. It was one of the strongest visceral reactions I’ve ever experienced. I felt vulnerable. I was also confused. What was going on?

And then it hit me: That song was a regular in my playlist when I started masturbating for the first time. And I hadn’t heard it for months.

Music has always played a huge role in my life. I’ve been singing for as long as I can remember; as a hobby at first, and now professionally in choirs and operas. When I was a teenager in serious emotional pain, my favorite bands were always there for me and showed me that music is a way to, sometimes, make the darkness a little brighter. As an adult, music continues to ground me and consistently provides me with a safe haven and an outlet to create beauty and energy and something all my own.

My masturbation playlist started off as a way to cover up the noise from my first vibrator. Since I had never “done this” before, I wasn’t sure if I even wanted any background noise. Maybe just lying there in silence would be better, I thought. However, I quickly discovered that wasn’t going to work – wands are noisy! At first, I tried putting on a poppy remix of one of my favorite artist’s most recent albums, then tried a TV show to just play in the background, neither of which provided me with the atmosphere I was looking for.

I learned that just covering up the noise wasn’t going to cut it. I needed more – I really wanted to connect with my body. My search for the proper playlist evolved into more of a desire to connect rather than a necessity to drown out vibrations. After trying pump-up music and general background noise, I finally put on an album by an artist I had only recently started listening to, London Grammar. It was perfect. I mixed in some songs by Daughter, some by Broods, and my playlist was born. The deep, atmospheric, haunting songs by these three groups opened the door to the headspace I was looking for; a place where I felt truly connected to my body and my pleasure and ready for exploration.

Everything in my life had a playlist. It only made sense that my masturbation sessions would too.

However, sometime in-between when I started masturbating and when I moved to my new state for my new job, I lost that playlist. I didn’t lose it in a physical sense – I could still open Spotify and start playing it whenever I wanted – but I lost that connection to my body; lost my incredible fascination with sex toys and exploration and discovery and pleasure. About nine months passed in that in-between phase, and a lot happened. I graduated from college, moved away from the place I called home for four years, started my very first job as a college graduate, quit that job four months later, and moved to an entirely new state alone after finding a new job. My mental health plummeted and I found myself back in a deep depression from the turbulence of graduating, cycling quickly through jobs, and essentially starting my life over all on my own.

It’s understandable why masturbation, and especially working on my blog, took a backseat for a while. I also quickly realized why listening to even just the opening chords of “Hey Now” gave me such an intense emotional and physical reaction. I was disconnected from my body for months. Hearing that song reminded me of the vulnerable, intimate place where I first discovered pleasure.

Now, four months after I heard “Hey Now” again while unpacking my moving boxes, I have a revamped, longer masturbation playlist. It still includes all of the favorites I mentioned above, but a lot of new discoveries, too. I’m thankful that my lifelong connection to music helped me discover my body – and that it brought me back to my body when I felt detached from pleasure and exploration for so long.

Do you have your own masturbation playlist? What do you listen to while masturbating, if you listen to anything at all? Let me know in the comments!

To Men Who Think They’re Experts on Queer Women’s Pleasure

A few nights ago, I was out having drinks with a man I’d slept with once a couple of months ago. We started talking about queerness, and he asked me when I first knew I was interested in women. I told him I knew when I was in high school, but couldn’t be out for fear of retaliation from my then-boyfriend, and that I was finally able to come out to myself fully in my first year of college. I also told him that the first time I seriously dated a woman, in my third year of college, it changed my entire life.

And this is when our conversation began to go downhill.

As soon as I told him how my first queer relationship opened up my world, he started asking me details about what it was like to have sex with another woman. Alright, I thought, I can handle this. I’ve been a queer educator for years, and I’m used to people asking me all kinds of questions about queer sex and relationships. Usually they’re something along the lines of: “How does that work?” and “So, scissoring, am I right?” and “But… if there’s no penis… how is it really sex?” (Hello, cissexism! Get out of here with that shit.)

This man asked me no such questions. Instead, he looked me directly in the eye and said, “How could sleeping with women possibly be as intimate as sleeping with men?”

Oh, Christ. Here we go. He followed up this question by informing me (poor, ignorant me!) that face-to-face sex “means more” than other kinds of sex, so that when a woman goes down on another woman, it cannot be as meaningful or intimate as when a man and a woman have PIV sex. Furthermore, he so graciously explained that even if women engage in penetrative sex, a strap-on “isn’t really you” (as in your physical anatomy), so your connection with your woman partner still can’t be as intimate as it would be with a man.

First of all, holy shit, cissexism. I want to be clear that I do not support any of these claims, and that they represent an incredibly exclusionary view of bodies, identities, gender, sexuality, and relationships.

I could write for days just refuting his points: That there are many, many ways to have sex, regardless of your gender; that PIV sex is not the ultimate, “final” sex act; that queer people have amazing, mind-blowing, deeply intimate sex every damn day despite what straight cis men have to say about it.

I’m not going to do that, though. At least not now. This isn’t about one conversation I had with one man who happens to believe that when we had sex, it was more intimate than any of the sex I’ve ever had or will have with women (or, really, anyone who doesn’t identify as a cis man, even though he didn’t say that explicitly.)

This is about men thinking they can dictate, and are experts on, queer women’s sexual lives and pleasure.

Remarks ranging from belligerent questions about how queer women actually have sex to deeply personal comments getting at the core of queer women’s intimate lives all have one thing in common: Straight men who think they know what’s best for women, and that what’s best for women is men.

I am well aware that people of all genders and sexualities may have questionable things to say about queer women’s pleasure. I’ve encountered this with straight women who say they just can’t imagine being with another woman, and most often with queer men who openly and freely express their disgust over vulvas and vaginas. (Misogyny from queer men is very, very real. More on that some other time.) However, I have only ever experienced aggressive interrogation and a toxic “I know more about your pleasure than you do” attitude about my sex life from straight men.

This mindset among straight men is incredibly prevalent. I deal with it all the time, and I’d venture to say that most other queer women I know do as well. I experience it on Tinder and OkCupid, where men tell me daily that I just “need some dick in my life” to “turn me straight.” I experience it walking down the street, hand-in-hand with a partner, when I’m met with gross misogyny, harassment, and queerphobia. I experience it when a man I’ve slept with tells me women can never pleasure me the same way he once did; when he becomes threatened and reactive as soon as I tell him he’s wrong.

This attitude towards queer women is dangerous and harmful. While the comments and events discussed here may seem like outliers to those who haven’t experienced them, they are part of a toxic pattern of queerphobia, sexism, and misogyny that seeks to control the way queer women live their lives and express their sexuality.

Stopping this pattern is not queer women’s responsibility, but rather lies on the men who perpetuate it, and even men who don’t. Thanks to patriarchal ideas and standards of sex, toxic hypermasculinity, and heteronormativity and cisnormativity, many straight men claim to have a supreme knowledge about sex and have opinions about how everyone regardless of gender identity or sexual orientation should be having sex.

It is up to straight men themselves to break down these detrimental ways of thinking and start to truly listen to the experiences of queer folks as well as the needs, desires, and experiences of their women partners. For straight men who already understand that queer women’s sexuality is not owned and controlled by men, it’s essential to actively work on breaking down and calling out this toxic pattern when they see it.

I think by now it goes without saying that the only experts on queer women’s sexual lives and pleasure are, surprise, queer women themselves.

Real Neat Blog Award!

Last week, three truly lovely people I admire in the sex blogging world – Emmeline Peaches, Miss Ruby Reviews, and Kinky Kitten – nominated me for a Real Neat Blog Award! I was shocked when I received my first nomination, and even more so when I got my second and third. My website has only been up and running for a little over three weeks, so I feel quite honored to be nominated! I’ve been blown away by the truly amazing and supportive community I’ve found since I started my blog and incredibly thankful to all of those who nominated for the Real Neat Blog Award.

For folks who don’t know about the Real Neat Blog Award, it gives you all, my wonderful readers, a chance to know a bit more about me, how I came to be a blogger, and what I envision for the future of my website. A couple of the nominations I received featured different questions, so I’ve tried my best to combine those nominations here while still keeping things relatively short and sweet. I hope you all enjoy!

neat-blog-1024x218

1) Why did you start blogging?

I started blogging to give myself a platform to express myself in a way I could never do before. I’ve worked for sexuality-focused companies and written extensively about sexuality and sex education in college, but I never had a safe space (and a brave space) that was all my own before I started Formidable Femme. This desire to carve out my own corner of the internet was borne out of a personal pleasure-based journey I’ve been on for the past year or so in an attempt to reclaim my sexuality after an abusive relationship. I was so inspired by the countless amazing sex bloggers I was reading day in and day out. When I finally realized that this was something I could do too, it didn’t take me long to purchase a domain name and get to work on setting up my site.

2) If your site had a goal, what would it be? How do you feel you’re doing with that goal, right now? How do you feel you’ve done with that goal over all?

Well, as I’ve only been blogging for a little over three weeks, I’m not as far along with my goals as I’d like to be. However, my overall goal is to offer a unique lens on sex toys and sex blogging in general through the lens of my intersectional identities – as a queer femme woman, as a survivor, and as someone living with a mental illness. While I’ve only posted a couple of reviews so far to get started, I want to get in touch with those intersectional identities through not only how I feel about (and use) sex toys, but also in a “Personal Musings” section where I discuss my thoughts about sexuality, gender, and feminism. I love writing reviews, but I’m really looking forward to writing about social justice issues as well. So far I think I’m doing pretty well with my goals considering how young my site is! (I also want to work on building an educational section of my website beyond the content I include in reviews or musings, but that’ll be a work in progress. Ideally, it would be focused on sexuality education as it relates to the intersectional identities I mentioned above.)

3) How has blogging influenced your life?

Again, even though I’ve only been blogging for a short amount of time, it’s already influenced my life in profound ways. On the night I bought my domain name and began to set up Formidable Femme, I felt a huge weight lift off my shoulders. Just having a place to call my own was incredibly freeing, and I felt so comforted by taking that first step. Over the past few weeks, that freeing feeling has only gotten stronger – I feel more empowered than ever before about my sexuality, my queerness, and my femmeness. Having a shareable, interactive safe space is amazing!

4) What is your favorite part of blogging?

My favorite part about blogging is the extremely welcoming, open, and supportive community I’ve found over the past few weeks. Everyone in the sex blogging world is unbelievably helpful and willing to get new bloggers up and running by giving them as many tools, tips, and tricks as possible to help them succeed. There’s no competition here – only love, support, and mutual understanding. I was surprised to be welcomed with such open arms, but I’m so, so thankful that I was, and every day I’m happy to interact with all the lovely humans in this community. Of course, I also love the educational aspect of sex blogging in general and can’t wait to work a bit more on that part of my website.

5) What website on the entire web, besides your own, do you spend the most time on?

Tumblr! I’ve been super involved on Tumblr for the past six or so years and I think it’s a fantastic place to learn, grow, and cultivate new interests. Tumblr helped me immensely with my coming out process and also helped me find a supportive queer feminist community when I hadn’t yet found one in college. (That being said, if anyone would like the URL for my personal tumblr, just let me know through Twitter or e-mail!) I also spend a lot of time on Twitter, especially my account for Formidable Femme, and Facebook.

6) Are you kinky? How did you come to this conclusion?

I’m still trying to figure this one out!

7) What do you want to be when you grow up?

When I grow up, I want to continue doing the kind of work I’m doing now, just on a larger scale. My roots are in pro-choice activism, queer advocacy, and sexuality education, and are all tied to political work and grassroots organizing. My full-time job is in the reproductive justice movement. In a couple of years, I’d like to go to graduate school for a program that combines all of my passions, so I’ll likely end up studying human sexuality or something politically-based with a focus in women’s, gender, and sexuality studies. We’ll see what happens after that, but ideally I would love to be senior-level staff for a reproductive rights organization. I could also see myself going on to get my PhD and becoming a professor. Only time will tell!

8) What is the most important thing about you that you want everyone to know?

This is supposed to be about me, but I’m making it about you. I want you, dear reader, to know that I think you are worthy, you are loved, and you are enough. For too long, I was made to feel like I was unworthy, unlovable, and inadequate, and I never want anyone else to feel that way. Along with writing reviews and musings, I also want to provide a safe, brave space for my readers to feel accepted, understood, and heard.

Here’s the part where I’m supposed to nominate other folks for the Real Neat Blog Award – however, I’m pretty sure that all of the bloggers I had in mind have already been nominated! (Also, admittedly, I’m a bit late in writing this post – I’ve been moving into my new apartment and then on a beach vacation – so I’ve had some of these folks in mind for the past week or so.) So, while I think all of these wonderful folks have already been nominated (and some even nominated me!), there’s no harm in posting my list anyway: Emmeline Peaches, Artemisia FemmeCock, Sugarcunt, Miss Ruby Reviews, and Bex Talks Sex. You all are fantastic and so deserving of this award!

If you made it to the end of this post, thank you so much! This was such fun to write, and again, I’m incredibly honored to be nominated.