Toying Around

The first time I touched myself was in fourth grade. I’d found out about porn after hearing some older kids name drop a few websites like they were the keys to a secret world, and being the curious child I was, I’d checked them out furtively under the safety of my blankets, door locked for extra measure. While I didn’t quite get to the same overt displays of pleasure I saw in porn, I did feel tingling sensations that changed in color and intensity as I played around with different body parts from different angles. I’d mostly been fingering myself under the covers because I felt a sense of guilt in masturbating out in the open—it took me years to even label my antics as masturbation because I’d conceptualized it as a gross thing that guys did, a sign of low moral character. 

So here I was, “accidentally” feeling good if I just so happened to hit the right spot. Of course, I’d ventured through enough women’s health magazines to recognize exciting things I could try outside of the limited lens of porn, and many of those involved either (1) a partner, or (2) sex toys. I was an introvert with no plans of getting a significant other anytime soon, but I’d also grown up in an immigrant household where sexuality was never a topic of discussion. I had no openings to casually drop my interest in a vibrator or dildo to my mom over dinner, so I went for a temporary second option: household items. A toothbrush worked fine as a rudimentary dildo, a vibrator as well if I got the electric. A few websites recommended certain fruits and vegetables if I put a condom over them, but common sense told me that I didn’t want to explain how I got a mushy banana stuck in my vagina to my mom or a doctor. 

I was armed with nothing but my fingers and a trusty toothbrush that helped me reach places my fingers wouldn’t reach, unlocking a new set of sensations and encouraging me to explore new horizons on the land of my body. These carried me through middle school and high school - although I got the pregnancy and safe sex talk from my mom sometime near the end, I was never comfortable enough to bring up sex toys because I was afraid to shatter the image of the good, studious daughter by sharing my desires with her. And while I made do with what was lying around in the house, it’s generally safer and more hygienic to use toys specifically designed for sexual pleasure. Sex toys made with 100 percent medical grade silicone, stainless steel, or glass are ideal, and they should be washed regularly with mild soap and warm water. Putting a condom on your toy further reduces your chances of infection.

I could only really indulge my curiosity for sex toys in the space outside of school and home. Living in a large metropolitan area meant that I could window shop for miles without making the bigger commitment of stepping into a store. I walked past shady “XXX Adult DVD” stores with opaque windows and tacky neon lighting, sensing that I may not have been the intended demographic (a man)—in fact, I never made the trek out to Maxx Adult Emporium in Durham because a quick Google search brought up photos of an isolated, windowless warehouse. The more transparent layouts of Babeland and The Pleasure Chest were more welcoming, styled in more traditionally feminine colors and designs to draw in women who might’ve needed a little extra push to go into an adult toy shop and look around. But I still felt strange about being underage at a sex toy shop, so I never made it past window shopping.

Fast-forward to college—I’d reveled in my newfound independence and gotten involved in partnered sex, but I’d never been able to orgasm from penetration or my fingers alone. As it turns out, only 46% of women report frequently reaching orgasm from penetration, but I didn’t know this at the time. I wondered if there was something wrong with me, stopping my partners if they’d gone down on me long enough for their tongues to go numb because I was feeling the tingles, but nothing beyond that. I still enjoyed the sensation and appreciated the enthusiasm from the opposite party, but I was stuck on the hill of pleasant, but not quite there. I mean, how could I rely on someone else for an orgasm if I couldn’t even communicate what exactly got me there? Clitoral, G-spot, whatever—I’d tried them all, but never to complete success. Maybe feeling good was good enough, I told myself. If I could get a steady plateau of pleasure, maybe it was overly selfish of me to chase after that elusive peak.

After the pandemic hit this year, and I read articles about sex toy sales going to an all-time high, I figured it was time to break the seal and get my first sex toy. My friend mentioned off-handedly about the wonders of her vibrator once in conversation, and my partner at the time suggested that I get a dildo for my personal pleasure. After poring over several articles to find the best beginner vibrator, dildo, anal plug, and whatnot (and balking a little at how steep prices could get), I settled on an unassuming 2-in-1 vibrator and dildo off the third page of an Amazon search. It wasn’t the most reviewed or highly rated option out there, but I figured that no review would substitute for the personal connection between the toy and me once I used it. So I pressed the order button, closed the tab, and received an unassuming package at the Student Mailbox Center a couple weeks later.

I was eager and nervous to try out a toy in the flesh (or in this case, in the silicone), so I bought a pack of batteries and readied myself for the night. I played around with the different vibration settings to figure out what worked for me. I was in awe. Though the first few settings I tried didn’t get me off, they introduced me to a new array of sensations that I’d never been able to get from my fingers alone, making me realize that my journey to self-exploration was still far from done. I’d experienced my first orgasm, and it had been within my grasp all along.

A lot of women are hesitant to get a sex toy because there’s still stigma against women taking their pleasure into their own hands. But a sex toy doesn’t only offer agency and control for women over their orgasms—it can also allow for a deeper understanding and appreciation of one’s own body. While ordering a toy online doesn’t quite capture the experience of exploring a brick-and-mortar shop for the perfect match, it can be a good compromise for people who don’t feel comfortable making the conscious decision to step into a shop and interact with another person to make their purchase, particularly if the shop caters to a primarily heterosexual male customer. Most online sex toy shops offer discreet packaging and recommendations for people at different stages in exploring their sexuality, from beginner-friendly solo toys, to toys designed specifically for partnered sex or same-sex relationships.

Ultimately, you are deserving of sexual pleasure just as much as any other form of self care. So the next time you need to wind down after a long day or get a mood boost, consider making a trip to Maxx’s or making a discreet online order. You may just find yourself falling heads over heels for a toy that brings you places no other human has.