I reviewed this toy with the help of a partner of mine. Post-playing I turned to her and asked,

“So? What do you think?”

My partner took a moment to regain the ability to speak in coherent sentences, and *smiled really big*.

“That doesn’t belong to you anymore,” she said.

(She is a little cheeky sometimes.)

This is the Njoy Eleven-

And it’s a really beautiful beast of a dildo.

Things I am really into about the Njoy Eleven:

• It is steel. 100% solid surgical steel. Steel is a great material because it can be heated, cooled, used to conduct eletctricity*, and sterilized. Sterilizing means that  you can safely share it with all your friends! *Internal electro play can lead to really nasty burns, so do your research/just don’t do it/be risk-aware and consensual.*
• It’s heavy. 2.75 lbs. of metal. This toy is a little intimidating, and a bit of an upper body workout. Heavy toys also provide an extra challenge to the person recieving, espeically if you are playing in a position where that person is not horizontal.
• It’s BIG. 2″ radius/4″diameter for the large bulb, and 1.75″ radius/3″ diameter for the smaller bulb. It’s a nice toy to use when you are working up to fisting. There are less ridges than a gloved hand, and it’s an extremely smooth surface.
• It has two ends, one smaller end with ridges, and another end that is much larger and completely smooth. These two ends can be used in lots of different ways. The toy is great anally or vaginally, or however you want to refer to your many lovely orifices.
• Great to use by yourself or with a partner.
• The design is completely beautiful. I wish I had a glass coffee table/antique curio cabinet so I could display it all day long. Industrial design is something that really counts when it comes to sex toys, and with the Eleven, like with all of Njoy’s products, you can really tell that body form was considered during the design process.
• It’s shiny. I can see myself in it when I’m fucking someone/be the vainest person ever and check my hair swoop mid-doin’ it.
• It comes in a handy black leather carrying case. In the case there is also room for gloves and a small bottle of lube if you want to add them. It’s packaged as a great to-go toy.
• It’s compatible with any and all lubricants.
• Unlike the Njoy wand, which I reviewed last year, this toy stays put. The wand is a fantastic tool, but it can fall to the side easily when a partner is not Kegeling, contracting to keep in in place, or when the yielder is a little distracted and may not have the angle just so. The Eleven does not have this problem.

Things to think about when considering using/acquiring this toy:

• Cost. This toy retails at about $300, so it’s a serious investment.
• Size. Part of the appeal of this toy is how large it is. However, it may be too big for some, and it may be a toy that you need to work up to.
• It’s heavy and unforgiving. If you are not at least 3/4 of the way to fisting your partner/yourself then it may be too much for you.
• Ask yourself, “How do I want to use this toy?”  It’s a terrific toy for penetration (anal and vaginal/front hole and back hole), and is deliciously thuddy when used to for impact play. It is also great for kneading knots out of shoulders/back/butt/hamstrings/you get the general idea.
• It can be slippery. Because the material is smooth perfect steel, the Eleven can be slippery to hold onto. I have found that just using a glove solves this issue, but for those who may have a hard time with grip/hand strength I would recommend being wary of this.

As a whole, I am smitten with the Njoy Eleven. So far it has helped me cause lots of lovely bruises that look like nebulas, helped me learn a whole new meaning to deep lez (fisting+eleven-ing someone while the Indigo Girls played in the background/no shame November), and has been a welcome addition to my sex life and a completely spoiling toy.  I recommend it highly, and hope that if you want to add the Eleven to your life, you purchase it at your local feminist adult retail store.

I have been working at Oh My! Sensuality for about two years, and they have been years filled with dancing, tasting a lot of lube, watching/reviewing a lot of porn and products, and helping western Massachusetts pick out all sorts of awesome, totally silly at times, but always worth smiling about, toys.

The work I do is important, and it’s really difficult sometimes. Carol, Beth, Sturgis, and I often laugh and tease with customers about our jobs being the best jobs in the world (and they are), but we don’t tell you all about the hard work we do on an interpersonal level with most of our customers.

Oh My! is woman-owned and feminist-operated. We are a safe space where anyone (eighteen and up) can come to ask questions about their sexualities, their bodies, where to get a good piercing in town, how to discuss new things with partners, the weather, their days, anything they need to feel good that day.

We really care about you. We do. We remember you, we remember your names if you introduce yourself, and we consider ourselves to be a big part of the community. And although we may not say hi to you on the street (we value confidentiality), we do notice you. And we may smile as we pass by. Beth and Carol have been at it for nine years, living, working, and lovin’ in the Valley. I am a much more recent addition to the Oh My! family, but I am proud to be among its ranks.

And yes, we are a quirky bunch. Carol likes cat figurines and is an amazing artist. Beth collects art and likes going thrifting. Sturgis is in a band and is one of the funniest people I have ever met. I wear ascots and bake bread. We are your neighbors, and we love getting to know you.

Sometimes we have all women* in the store, more often than not, and that’s really cool. The fact that women come to our store seeking access to their own pleasure is huge. Pleasure is radical, and feeling good about one’s body is radical. Laughing with your best friends while you all hold brightly colored buzzing objects to your noses is silly, and it’s also a moment when a group of people are celebrating bodies. Together. In a room filled with other people who are doing the exact same thing.

It’s really magic.

*can include anyone and everyone who wants to be included within this. Also everyone in the store at the time may not identify as a woman, because we don’t ask everyone’s identity at the door. But the absence of heterosexual cisgender males is a common occurrence at Oh My! (Not to say that het/cis males are not great, because you are. But having a bunch of women in the store is unique.)

We  have had many survivors of all sorts of trauma (fat shaming, sexual assault, domestic abuse, ableism) share their stories with Beth, Carol, and me and ask for help reclaiming their bodies through our products. But it isn’t really done through our products. What these people are reaching out to us about is something much bigger than that.

This is about more than a sex toy. (I am going to use a vibrator in this example.) A vibrator is a fairly simple tool. It is a motor, in some sort of casing (some silicone, some plastic) that, well, vibrates. It is a machine. However, it is a machine that can act as a bridge between self and touch. 

When couples come into the store and are really intimidated about using a vibrator, I often suggest that they use it as it was “intended”, a personal massager. Litterally use it to massage each other’s muscles. Vibrators, I have recently discovered, feel really great on sore backs, necks, butts, legs, feet, etc. I suggest that anyone who is hesitant about how to incorporate a vibrator into their sex lives try using it on these still sensitive but less sexually charged places first.

Then move it from leg to thigh, and from neck to lips to nipple to clit. Make a journey of it.

Use it as a bridge between touch. Use it as a tool to do things your body can’t quite do, which is okay.

(I wish my tongue could go Hitatchi speed, but that will never happen. So instead our brilliant society of perverts has invented a vibrator so strong that you could use as a high speed mixer. Hallelujah!)

As a survivor myself, I can personally attest to how sex toys have been a part of my healing process and body reclamation. Strapping on for the first time was one of the most humbling and terrifying experiences I have ever had, and my partner at the time handled it so well. But even with her entirely loving support, it was still hard to look at my body in a way that made it reflect my perpetrators.

But I had the option to take it off, and it was a choice to strap on or not. My gender and self could be expressed through the toy, and then I could remove it, and put it away. And putting it back on the shelf, I could step back from a part of me that is really hard. And re-examine. And re-approach when I was ready.

Something as simple as lubricant can change a life as well. I’m serious.

Last Christmas, an older woman I am very close with told me that she was having problems getting wet. She felt ashamed because she was aroused, but was “dry as can be.” I assured her that there was no correlation between arousal and self-lubrication in female sex’ed bodies, and gave her samples of Sliquid Sea and Uberlube. I told her to let me know how they worked for her.

I got a phone call later that week asking me to mail her a “few bottles” of “those small gifts you gave me.”

She was touching herself again without pain. After twenty years. She was feeling good about her body.

THIS is why we do the work that we do. This type of story is incredibly common.

People come into the store wanting to learn about themselves and their partners. Mothers and fathers come in with their adult children, expectant parents send us copies of their ultrasounds inside “thank you” cards, artists who are just starting out can show their work in our space free of charge (just ask!), we are happy to advertise for your local event, we sell work from local artisans, we will encourage you to try new things, talk with your partners, and sometimes we can give you samples to take home and try.

We have resources for you if we can’t answer your questions. We are happy to look things up for you, sit down with you and search for that one toy you have been dreaming of but we don’t have in the store. We are happy to let you try stuff on (over clothes), and show you a few options of how toys can be used. We are happy to trouble shoot with you, place special orders, and we love a challenge.

We are happy to be working in Northampton, MA. We are happy to be a part of your community.

This past Saturday, Oh My! Sensuality celebrated nine years in business, and we look forward to the party we will be throwing for our ten years, and then our twenty, and then who knows.

Part of this is that when I began this blog, a little over a year ago, it was a project to add to my résumé. It was a way to become published on other websites, because most places will not publish you unless you are already an established blogger/writer in some public way. I also began it as a way to discuss sexuality and social justice without making my partner at the time really fucking angry. It was an act of rebellion against her and our crumbling, mutually abusive, shattering partnership, and a way for me to receive lots of instant “stats” gratification.

Ending relationships is rough. I needed to be liked. I started a blog.

This summer has also been really rough. I spent this summer seeking out familiar comforting dangers, dodging drunken slurs, and feeling the most stoic and manic I have ever felt. It was full of wanting and anxious hopeful expectation. I felt really stuck and like I was just not enough. And to be honest, I have not written because I could not seem to write a post that was not full of feelings. And when this blog began, it was not to be a project about feelings. This blog was a project that I could put on my business cards, a résumé-worthy website that my family and friends could follow.

But the truth is, you really can’t discuss something as personal and complex as sexuality without talking about feelings.

My solution as a blogger is that from here on out, I am going to have password-protected posts. If you want the password, simply hit the “follow” button on my blog and I will email it to you. (This is a strategy that a mentor of mine uses on their blog sugarbutch.net and it seems to work really well.)

I also want to (with the consent of my partners) start blogging about the sex and play I am having. I want to be more direct about fucking on this blog, because I do not want it erased from queer discourse. Also because I really like talking about the sex I am having.

I am working on hosting and publishing guest posts written by folks I love, admire, and look up to.

I am going to be doing more toy reviews. (Because y’all love them and they are really fun.)

I am going to be recording my experiences working with two mentors. I expect us to focus on identity politics, becoming an adult, and BDSM.

I want to write more about women. And what that word has come to mean in my life, my identity, and my survival. (See also: butch identity, daddy identity, and service.)

I am currently working on putting together a resource page for the blog.

I am trying to figure out how to discuss my survival in a public way while also being respectful of those I have had mutually abusive relationships and experiences with.

I am working on a side project of collecting oral histories of survivors of trauma who see their practice of BDSM/Leather sex to be a part of their survival. There will be a longer post about this later.

I have so much planned for this year, and I am so excited to share my progress with you all.

Thanks so much for reading, and please follow me to receive the password to upcoming protected posts.

What do you think about being out/coming out as kinky? Any advice or tips on how to navigate being a deviant?

Please visit soon,

Milwaukee, WI

I was not sure how much longer I would keep this blog fairly BDSM/kink-free. Recently, so many of my students and peers have been asking me about it, and because of certain popular book called Fifty Shades of Grey, BDSM is now being discussed in a more mainstream way. So lez do it!

(Flag of leather, latex, and BDSM pride)

BDSM, kink, and consensual power exchanges/dynamics are also a part of a lot of people’s sex lives, including my own, and I want to represent and provide information about sexuality, all parts of it, with this blog and with my future as a sexuality educator.

So, coming out kinky…

I think it’s important, when sharing any information about yourself, that you consider why you want to share that information. Is it because you want to feel politically represented? Is it because you want your loved ones to know what you are all about? Is it because your dad straight-up asks you what the San Francisco Citadel is and why you are going there so often and “Um…it’s a nonprofit for sexuality education, exploration, and consent studies” just isn’t gonna cut it anymore? (True life.)

Is it because someone sees your marks and is like “Are you okay? Did someone (he, it’s always a he) hit you? You don’t have to take this anymore. I know a place you can go,” and coming out is just a part of assuring others that you are safe?

Is it because you need to out yourself in order to access more information about safety and how-to’s, and to find others who have similar identites?

Is kink a political identity for you? Or is it just something fun that you do sometimes in a very private way?

Do you want to come out as kinky?

Are you ready to explain what BDSM is? And why it’s not a monstrous thing?

Do you have the support systems  you need to feel safe coming out?

(I should really make a flowchart for this.)

Coming out can be a scary thing. And coming out kinky, well, it’s often seen as an over-share. This is because kink, BDSM, and all that jazz are immediately seen as sexual. Kind of like whenever someone mentions gayness anal sex is immediately thought of.

Kink, in my opinion, and in my personal life, is a political identity. So much so that I flag every day.

When you tell someone you are into kink, into BDSM, you may align yourself with power exchange community. You are sharing a part of your identity that may tell others:

1. How you fuck
2. How you date
3. How  you may form your family
4. That a lot of what you do is actually illegal in most states (‘cept New Jersey; you rule, New Jersey)
5. That with its illegality, you risk losing your job/kids/other important things by sharing this part of yourself with others
6. That your sex ed did not cover what your sex actually looks like
7. That you have not been represented in most sexual health books
8. That you are having queer sex, because the sex that you are having is non-normative, making it queer

You also need to think about how when you come out as kinky, you may be outing partners of yours as well. If you tell someone “I only have kinky sex” and that person knows who you are dating, guess what? You just outed your partner.

So ask your partner(s) first, and discuss how to share your sexuality with others without outing people without their consent.

You will also probably have to have a conversation about consent with most people you come out as kinky to. Because they will honestly and well-meaningly want to know why kink is not abuse.

Kink and BDSM are not abuse because they demand the consent of everyone involved. If there is not consent, it is assault. Not kink, not sex, not play, but sexual violence.

Plain and simple.

(This is not to say that abuse does not happen in the BDSM community, because  it does.)

It’s important to focus on the positive aspects of why you love kink. The blog Happy BDSM has a lot of smiles and kink (NSFW).

People will also say a lot of stuff like this:

(Yes, this was one of my internet procrastination projects with one of my best friends. And that is my room. And that is my speculum.)

Sometimes it’s also important to keep it simple when coming out kinky. As a friend of mine put it, “This is not a game of shock and awe.”

Sometimes I come out by saying that “A partner and pet of mine…”

Or when someone asks me about a bruise, “Everyone involved had a great time,” and leave it at that.

A friend in NYC on coming out kinky: “… I often just act like it’s a normal part of my life. Because, you know, it is.”

Remember that you are normal.

Focusing on the positive, on the caring, on the joy, eye contact, smiles, and intentional planning that goes into BDSM/kink is really important. 

Have resources available for when questions arise. You do not need to be the resource, but you can help guide people in your life to literature and videos that can help them get it.  Here is a link to Clarisse Thorn’s BDSM Resources. This is a wonderful resource list. 

Remember that you are not alone. A lot of us love this stuff, live this stuff, find the hardware store a super-erotic place, and get off on dark and perverted stuff. Good luck! Godspeed! May there be wind in your sails and tails on your back.

And let me know how it goes!

If you ever get in bed with me, I will say something to you that will sound like a laundry list of how to touch my body.

Don’t grab my thighs. Don’t come up behind me when I don’t know you are there. Don’t ever pull me back into bed with you, don’t grab me, don’t spank me, don’t meow at me, don’t wear vanilla perfume when you come over. I need you never to call me your boyfriend, or assume that I will strap on for you. Sex can never be an expectation.

I will tell you that touching above my belly button is okay, but please don’t grope my chest like we’re in some bad teen movie. You may not touch my cunt, my cock, or my anus without asking and receiving a clear “Yes, I want that.” Please suck on my hands. Please bite my neck. Please get as naked as you feel comfortable getting. Please do not ever ask me to take my clothing off because you “want to see me” or because you feel that my clothing is covering who I am.

Do not ever use male pronouns for me.

Ever.

Sir might be okay sometimes, or Professor, but we will talk about that when we come to it.

I am stone. This means different things for different people. For me it means that I cannot be touched in my “genital region” without being instantly and harshly triggered.

If you do fuck me, there is a 99% chance that I will be repeating “No. No. No. Stop. No.” in my head and burst into tears. It will look terrifying. I will look far away. I will be far away. This is dangerous sometimes, but I need you to trust my body and trust me to know how to handle it.

There is also a high possibility that it will feel great and powerful and clear, being fucked.  I will ask if you want to watch me make myself cry, so that you don’t feel responsible for it when it happens. So that you will understand that it is not you who are triggering me, that it is a choice I make for myself, and that I have reclaimed my trauma to the point that it now can become erotic.

The adrenaline is erotic. Pain is erotic. The anger I feel when being penetrated is because I hate and feel you.

I cannot separate your wanted touch from the unwanted touch I have experienced in the past.

I will yell at you to hurt me. I will tell you that you’re not going to break me. I will yell at you to fuck me harder. I will tell you I can’t even feel you. I will yell at you to make me bleed.

This rawness, this trigger-rich part of my body is a tool at my disposal.

Being stone is about survival.

Thank you for using it with me, for me. Thank you for touching me.

The first time I was assaulted, I actually couldn’t tell you. I can’t tell you about the second, eighth, or hundredth time I was coerced to have my body taken in the name of sexism, transphobia, homophobia, or because “We’re friends, right?”

I can tell you that I am considering getting a tattoo at my “touch line,” the words “boundless” and “insatiable” over my hips. I can tell you that I can count the number of men who have never expected my body in return for basic human rights on one hand. I think about those five fingers when my partner asks me to slap her across the face when we fuck. Some days I self-identify as a man-hating dyke. I get nauseous when I see a penis. My own masculinity is constantly disconcerting, which is probably why it took me so long to come out.

I do not know if I would be stone if I were not a survivor. I cannot remember a time when I was not a survivor. Stoneness was never an option for me, so even to imagine my body any other way than it is feels unproductive and stupid.

Do not ever see getting me on my back as a challenge. Do not ever see fucking me as a success. Do not ever see my body as a failure.

There is so much strength in how we fuck.

I think my body is incredible. I love what it can do. I can cry as hard as I come, and as much as I ejaculate, which is a lot. I love what I have done with it, as two separate parts coming together to use my trauma to create really really great orgasms.

Being stone is like having marbles in my mouth that make it hard to approach people about my body, about interacting with it. Being stone is about being afraid of the confused looks when someone says “But it’s your turn…” or “But I can smell you, and I can feel your wetness, that’s not fair” or “Oh my god. You’re actually crying?! Are you okay?”

I’m perfect.

“We know some of the titles are funny. Please do not yell them out loud.”

This is one of my favorite things in the store, for two reasons:

1. It gets really annoying when I hear “Bears in Heat?!  HAHAHAHA” for the millionth time.
2. It’s a really interesting and fitting metaphor bridge for one of my main criticisms of sex positivity.

People yell the names of the porn for one reason: to show off . No, really. People will come into the store and yell out about the sex that is portrayed in the video to show off how cool and collected they are in the store. (I know, yelling as cool and collected baffles me as well.) The fact that customers yell to seem cool to others is similar to advertising their comfort with what is in the video–sex. This exuberant yelling about “Bears in Heat” is advertising comfort, coolness, and a positive reaction to the content of the video. It is an attempt to be positive about sex. Sex positivity for rude people.

The issue I have, besides the rudeness, is that the kinds of porn that are yelled about portray a specific kind of sex, and are yelled about to mock the sex in the film (“Bears in Heat” is an example of this one because it’s a film about gay men).  I’ll bet you know the distinction I’m talking about. I bet you know the kind of sex that is bragged about, and the kinds that are mocked.

The celebrated sex, for the most part, is not queer. It’s not inclusive. It’s pretty rapey, racist, and ableist, and we are currently trying to phase it out and replace it with lots of queer and feminist porn at the store. (That being said, some people really like what is commonly called “bad” porn, and that’s totally okay!)

The thing about sex positivity is that it is a term that implies that politically speaking (both in our bedrooms, relationships, and outside of them) we are positive about sex. We are stoked about sex, we are excited about it, we are writing it on our identities and are striving to be as sexy and positive as we can be. It also creates the idea that if one is not sex-positive, they must be sex-negative, and that  can leave out anyone who identifies as asexual. (Really awesome article about it here.)

So who is having the sex we are raising up? What kind of sex? What makes something “sexy” or something “sex?”

Disclaimer:

I want to take a second to remind you all that sexual assault is not sex. Rape is not sex. Sexual assault is assault. Rape is rape. Violence is violence. Sexual violence, in any form, is not sex, it is violence. “Sex” on this blog will never mean “sexual violence”, and should not be considered an umbrella term for nonconsensual acts of violence.

Back to sex-positivity: 

What I am asking here is: what acts, done by whom, are deemed worth our positivity?

Then I ask what sex is, and then I get flustered/confused, and then someone gives a definition, and it doesn’t fit how I fuck.

And then I look to resources to find out how to define “sex” and “sexy,” and all of the things I find represent those who are creating the resources.

White. Upper/middle class. Degree-holding. Mostly male. Heterosexual. Monogamous. Non-kinky or not into BDSM practice. Currently able-bodied. Representing and working within institutions of power that are created by and run by white, upper/middle class, degree-holding, mostly male, etc.

Master’s tools, man.

So all I get to learn about is the sex that people who fit those categories are having. Or I get to learn about what they think about the sex lives that are not theirs, and are therefore not “natural,” and are therefore deviant, and are therefore illegal in some cases.

Your sex is not the same as my sex. What you consider sex I may never do, or may never have heard of. “Sex” implies that there is a specific thing that we are positive about. That thing is so subjective, it is often difficult to figure out how to use “sex-positive” as a political platform.

And when my sex life, my pleasure, my relationships, my body, my identity, and the way I create my family are not represented, I do more than “feel” invisible. I am invisible. And my partners, my family, my friends, all of us are made invisible in some way or another.

A recent article on RH Reality Check (a sexuality news source) gave a really great example of the dangers of leaving out making certain people in the representation of sexuality invisible, in regards to the current field of sexologists and sexuality professionals.

“Have you noted the lack of people of Color in the field? When I’ve brought this to the attention of some of you, your responses have mostly fallen into the category of: ‘the field is what it is. This response is problematic on numerous levels. It ignores and erases the people of Color who were a part of the field, helped create it in the US, those of us here today, and those of us to come. This response does not question the colonial legacies and white supremacy of which the US field was created and remains.” (Bianca I. Laureano, An Open Letter to White People in the Sexology/Sexuality Field)

We need to work to create representative definitions of sex, and acknowledge that even if you and/or I may not belong to a particular misrepresented (or non-represented) group, our liberation is tied up with the liberation of others. (So everyone start organizing, celebrate the sex you are having, and help each other have the sex you want to have).

I understand that some of you who are reading this identify as sex-positive, and have just as complicated and fraught and wild and inclusive a definition of sex as I do, so I am going to offer up an alternative. (Ah, semantics!) *Thanks to my awesome editor Meg for giving me the words for that last bit, you’re awesome!*

Until the understood definition of what sex is/who is having sex is more inclusive, I would like to offer up the term “pro-erotic” as an alternative to sex positivity.

I consider “erotic” to be more of an umbrella term for whatever you find arousing, awesome, and makes your brain/body all electric in the ways that it is able to be. It’s not sex, but it can be sex. It literally can be whatever you want it to be.

(Yeah, I know, Erika Moen nerd alert.)

And everything you want it to be is normal.

Ask yourself that before negotiating/playing/having sex with someone. “If I could fuck any way that I wanted to fuck, how would I fuck?”

And the answer to that question is erotic. It’s being erotic with yourself, with your partners, in your brain, etc.

And think twice before using the term “sex-positive” and reading porn titles out loud.

Sometimes we talk about what I am doing with my life. You know, college, who I am dating, any good recipes I have tried out recently, how my crew team is doing. I was discussing consent and how I encourage students and friends and partners to go on testing dates together. (Coffee and a cheek swab! So dreamy!)

And Grandma Dunlap looked me straight in the eye and asked me, ”Doesn’t it just take the romance out of it all? Is there even any mystery left?“

“Grandma, it takes the rape out of it all, and I don’t want there to be any mystery regarding my health.”

My grandma doesn’t understand how consent can be spontaneous, cute, sweet, and frisky.

A lot of people do not understand how consent can be spontaneous, cute, sweet, and frisky.

I was asked in a comment about how to ask for consent to kiss someone.

Ah, kissing. One of my favorite things.

So to help my grandma, the reader who asked about kissing consent, and all of you, I have compiled a few lines that I have used or had used on me to ask for first-time kisses. That all felt spontaneous, cute, sweet, and frisky.

(And for those of you who know me personally, and know my partners, you can play the fun game of who said what.)

True (Slightly Awkward and Endearing) Stories: How To Navigate Kiss Consent

• “We should make out and see what happens.”
• “Would it be okay if we kissed before I start drinking?” (Heck yes! Sober kissing!)
• (Leaning in really close to the person, and whispering practically on their lips) “Would you like that?” WARNING: Do not attempt this with someone you have not already discussed wanting to make out with at a prior point. This can feel really hard to say no to for some, and may be a violation of personal space.
• “I really want to kiss you right now. Would you like that?”
• (To dog who lives in my house) “Lexi, I am going to say goodnight my date now. Are you going to bark if I kiss her?” (To date) “She might bark. Want to risk it?”
• “Garlic kisses: best kisses. Here, I can prove it if you let me.”
• “May I/Where may I kiss you?”
• “Wanna mack?”
• “I’m, like, really gay for you. Can I kiss you?”
• “May I kiss your collarbone?” ”May I kiss your arm?”
• “Maybe we can learn through osmosis? Oh man, sorry, I’m a nerd. But really, wanna try?”
• “Let’s make out about it!” (cue air guitar)
• “You have three seconds to kiss me somewhere on my face before I bike home. One…two…”
• “GOD. MAKE OUT WITH ME ALREADY.”
• (Whining) “Kiss meeeeeeee.”
• “We have talked about kissing, and we have been giggling for a few hangouts now, so how would you feel about trying it?”
• Text message: “This may be presumptious, but how would you feel about maybe kissing later on tonight?” Then follow up with “So you got my text, wanna try it?”

So, in summary, like everything else, it’s all about timing and not accidentally burping when you are about to kiss someone. Because that’s a little hard to recover from, even for the smoothest of us.

Happy spring, everyone!

Because nothing says “I’m glad we are buds” like lube samples and dental dams!

I use, and carry, all sorts of barriers.

In my bag right now there are:

• condoms (latex and non)
• Dental dams (polyurethane and latex)
• Lube (Slippery Stuff Gel, Swiss Navy Silicone, and vegan Sliquid Sea to be precise)
• Mini-bullet vibe (waterproof)
• My Consent Log (it’s a book where I document my partnerships and everyone’s limits–it’s super nerdy)
• Raincheck cards
• Tea (for snugglin’ up afterwards, before, and for aftercare)
• and about twelve medical gloves of assorted materials and length

Why so many gloves, you might ask?

Because chances are they are the BEST MULTI-PURPOSE TOOL FOR THE JOB.

(Also because it’s hilarious when my partners become conditioned to get turned on when gloves come near them, and I get frustrated text messages from when they have doctors’ appointments and just get to giggle a lot.)

Gloves come in all different shapes and sizes.

When purchasing gloves, consider whether you want exam or surgical gloves. Exam gloves should fit the bill for most every occasion; however, surgical gloves, for a little more money, are a much tighter fit and can allow for more feeling.

So, what are gloves made out of?

Latex

• Super stretchy!
• Easy to find! Easy to steal from your work/school/doctor’s office!
• Inexpensive!
• Comes in lots of colors!
• **Sometimes people have latex allergies, keep this in mind.**
• Tastes like latex! (This could be a great thing for some folks.)
• Not compatible with oil-based lubricants! (Because it’s latex.)

Nitrile rubber

• Some stretch, but not as much as latex.
• Compatible with all lubricants!
• Also pretty easy to find!
• Comes in a few colors! (Black…blue…)
• Tastes like…a glove!
• Could potentially be a little easier to put on because it’s not as stretchy.

Neoprene

• VERY similar to nitrile rubber.
• A little harder to find.
• It does contain substances in the rubber that are not recommended to use for medical purposes in England. (But in the US, it’s just fine!) Yeah, it made me feel weird too, but Wikipedia doesn’t always have up-to-date info.

Vinyl

• I don’t know a lot about vinyl gloves just yet, but as soon as we get some in the store and I get to review them, I promise to post the pros and cons of the material.
• One thing I do know is that they are thinner and tend to tear more easily, especially if you have long nails.

Ways to use gloves:

Rowing lyfe side note: they are great to use when you need to wash your hair and your hands are too blistered to do it without stinging pain. Put gloves on your hands to cover your blisters and the whole process will be a lot less painful. Or for when you want to have sex, but your hands are too cut up to feel good/safe.

How to use a single glove worn during sex:

Step 1: Pick out which gloves to use. Talk to your partner about gloves. Ask them whether they have latex allergies or other allergies to materials. Everyone involved in fun/hot/consensual play should probably put gloves on.

Step 2: Put gloves on! Be sure to snap the gloves because it’s fun and a little sassy.

Step 3: Lube up! (Tip: get an automatic soap dispenser and fill it with lube. That way you never have to worry about cleaning off your lube bottle after play, and it’s a little nerdy and makes a fun sound.)

Step 4: Play! Fuck! Get busy! Giggle lots!

Step 5: Remove glove. Do this by holding it at the base, and turn it inside out as you peel it off your hand. That way all the fluid is now trapped inside. Throw it away in a plastic bag.

Step 6: Put a new glove on if you want to play again!

Glove crafting!

I made a short video for you of two ways to use gloves. Hope this gives you some ideas. Happy crafting!

–Parks

**Gloves are also really great because they are a smooth surface, unlike your hands, which have lots and lots of tiny ridges and texture. Gloves can be used to make penetration more comfortable, and I would not recommend attempting something like fisting without them. **

I am glad that people like my dad, who grew up never having heard about consent outside of a legal context, are now telling me about how much they wish consent had been tied together with sex and celebrated as a sexy, positive thing (family discussions in the Dunlap house are pretty rad).

I am glad that people are consuming consent culture. I am glad that people are seeing consent and sex as connected.

I am glad that consent is, through this campaign, marketed in a way that means people will buy it. I will always say “Thanks!” when people tell me that my work is sexy, or “That’s awesome” when someone is wearing a “Consent Is Sexy” pin or shirt or has a poster.

But consent is not a magic wand for eternal hotness, no matter how dreamy clear communication is.

Consent is not always sexy. Sometimes asking for what you want sucks. Sometimes it hurts, sometimes you feel nauseous, sometimes you need to take big risks to ask for what you want.

Sometimes you ask for something that you want, and you and a partner try it out, and then it turns out you are not so into it after all, and you have to tell your partner that it isn’t something you want to do again, and risk hurting your partner’s ego or feelings/being embarrassed.

Sometimes you spend weeks working yourself up to a point where you feel secure enough to voice your needs or wants.

And then it turns out that your partner is not into what you are into, or shames you for wanting it.

Sometimes you have to do without what you asked for, or find creative ways to get what you want.

And often, it hurts to go without.

Sometimes it hurts all parties involved to feel like they may not be “enough,” which is another issue entirely, but I wanted to make it clear that not wanting what your partner wants is really really difficult.

It’s scary to voice your needs, it’s scary to tell someone “I want this” or “I need you to listen to me” or “No” or “Yes” or “I don’t feel safe doing that” or “Not now.”

Every time you ask for what you want, or state what you do not want, you are risking rejection and being shamed.

Every time you ask for what you want, or state what you do not want, you are communicating really critical information that will always positively affect the situation.

Because even if the answer is “No” or “I don’t feel safe doing that” or “I think we should take space from each other because I feel uncomfortable with what you just said” or, more realistically:

• “That’s disgusting”
• “I can’t do that with you”
• “You want WHAT?!”

You are making sure that lines are not crossed, that boundaries are discussed, and you are learning about yourself and about your partners. You are learning about what you all want from your interactions and relationships, you are learning about the shame and stigmas that exist in your communities, and as we all know, learning can be seriously uncomfortable.

Being uncomfortable is not a bad thing; successful communication may be just being able to communicate at all. Communication does not need to be about sex to make it about boundaries and respect.

Consent does not have to be connected to sex.

I can successfully teach about consent and consent culture to a group without once mentioning sex.

This is because consent is about all boundaries and mutual respect and acknowledging humanity and the act of actively working to improve your interactions with others, be those interactions platonic or naked and frisky.

It’s about things like cultural closeness, info-sharing, intentionality, accountability, good manners, and what to do when you make mistakes.

When consent is seen as “sexy,” I am pleased,  but when consent is taught and defended as necessary, as a birthright, I am elated.

I am affirmed. I feel like safe spaces could be a large-scale reality.

It is critical that consent is embraced as a part of every day interactions. It is critical that we feel the discomfort of actively pursuing consensual interactions, and that we continue to put ourselves out there when inquiring about sharing touch/space/food/friends/partners/stories/money/experiences/books/clothes/beds/seats on the bus.

Because when asking for what you want, or when stating your boundaries, you are reminding yourself and those around you of the power or yes, and of the power of no, and how they are both something that you want to know about.

And that inquiring, that discomfort you feel, is the discomfort of challenging and rejecting rape culture.

Keep it up.

]]> http://parksdunlap.wordpress.com/2012/02/03/why-consent-needs-to-be-more-than-sexy/feed/ 13 parksdunlap http://parksdunlap.wordpress.com/2012/01/11/why-sex-and-love-should-be-taught-separately/ http://parksdunlap.wordpress.com/2012/01/11/why-sex-and-love-should-be-taught-separately/#comments Wed, 11 Jan 2012 19:14:56 +0000 parksdunlap http://parksdunlap.wordpress.com/?p=418 ]]>

I have already discussed how “Sex” is a really subjective term, and is not reliable as a stand-alone vocabulary word for teaching.

I want to make it very clear that I think that having sex with someone you love can be wonderful. I think sex is wonderful, I think love is wonderful, and when they combine its wonderful. I do not, however, believe that they must go hand-in-hand. I also believe that it can do great harm to teach sex and love in a way where it is implied that one may include the other, and that they are not separate feelings, acts, and experiences.

For some, this is a really difficult thing to wrap one’s head around. And is often met with disapproving glares.

When I teach, I make an effort not to bring values into my classroom. Love, in my point of view, is similar to a value. It is something that is individual for each person, and is a very personal thing. It is not something that I can teach. I can teach about things that are hopefully a part of a loving healthy relationship, things like communication, consent, respect, honesty, boundaries, self-love, and health resources. I cannot teach a student what love is, what it looks like, or how to acquire it.

I do not want my students thinking, even for a second, that sex and love are the same thing. I do not want them thinking that just because they had sex with someone, that they must love them. I do not want them thinking that one implies the other. I do not want my students to think that sex is the only way to express love to another.

I am going to break down a few quotes that I have heard from all sorts of educators ( parents, teachers, older siblings, youth group leaders, etc.) and discuss why they are problematic and potentially harmful.

Problematic Educator Advice #1)

“Wait until you feel really special about someone”

• This is a well-intentioned statement. What the educator is trying to convey is that its okay to wait until you feel special about someone, and that waiting to have sex is a good thing. Statistically, the most successful way to combat all the negative parts of teen sexual risk is by prolonging time before a teen’s first sexual experience.
• The Problem with this statement is that it tells the student that it is not okay to have sex with someone until you feel really special about them. This implies that any sex that is not with “someone special” is wrong, and that if you feel really special about someone, now is the time to have sex with them. This is a dangerous message, because it adds pressure to both find someone special, and to have sex with that person to make it right. It also implies that there is a right and wrong time to have sex with someone, without discussing the communication between partners that should happen before sexual acts occur.
• This statement could also accidentally dismiss the experience of sexual assault survivorship. If you are telling a survivor of something like incest to “wait until you feel really special about someone” this is an incredibly confusing statement.

“You’ll know when you’re ready”

• What if you don’t know? How do you know? This statement really tells the student nothing about sex, and instead implies that there is this magical moment where you will automatically know “I’m ready!”
• What if you have had sex and you did not feel ready? What if it was not your choice to have sex? What if you feel ready physically, but do not know anything about accessing contraceptives? What if you are ready, but your partner is not? What if your partner says they are ready, but you don’t know if they are, but you might be, and you just don’t know? You feel ready, but are you? Is this what its like to “know”? What if your partner swears that it’s not sex, but you think it is and you are not ready for sex? What if all of your friends are “sexually active” and you think they are ready, and you want to be like them, but you don’t know how to become ready? (remember how hard it was to navigate this stuff?)
• Instead of saying something like “You’ll know when you’re ready” try teaching with something like “so, what are some things to consider before making the decision to have sex with someone?” This will do a few different things. It will help you to see where your student is at, and immediately lets you know what sorts of questions they may have. It also does not imply that there is some sort of magic moment where you emotionally know you are ready to have sex, and leaves room for the educator to discuss things like communication, consent, pleasure, and that individual personal values.

“There is no such thing as safe sex”

• Again, this statement is well intended. It is implying that there is an emotional and physical risk that comes with any sort of sexual act. It implies that sex is risky business, and that rejection or heartbreak can often be a part of that risk.
• The problem here is that it is dismissing the fact that there are ways to practice “safe sex”, and creates fear about any sort of sexual activity. It immediately shuts down any room for discussion about contraceptives, barriers, and lower risk sexual activities like manual sex or masturbation.

And while we’re at it, “Boys only want one thing”

• This dismisses anyone who is MAAB, male-gendered, or masculine presenting as being sexual predators, who only want to have sex, and do not have the capacity to share in the human experience at all. Its dehumanizing to anyone who is male, and creates a hostile environment for you and your student to discuss the male gender and/or sex. Whenever I hear “boys only want one thing” I make an effort to respond with “yeah. Kindness, respect, and communication. Oh wait, is that three?”

More on this later. Its a really large topic that I have been thinking about a lot, and I would love some feedback on. How do you discuss sex and love? How was sex taught to you? Did it include lessons about love and being “ready”?

Share your experiences with me by commenting! I know you all have opinions and feelings, and I want to know about them.

-Parks