Over at The Frisky, the writers been getting all touchy-feely with their emotions for "Love Yourself Week." But what about the more literal and physical side of the phrase "touchy-feely"? You know, the more hands-on approach to self-love. Masturbation, to be blunt. This little act is, uh, an important part of learning to love yourself. Up until yesterday, I have always taken a manual approach to masturbation and my fingers have suited me just fine. But I couldn't help but think I was missing out on something by being sans sex toys. So I decided to be a big girl and set out to buy my very first vibrator. The Frisky: Sex With Steph: How Do I Use Sex Toys In Bed?
I have to be honest and say that my decision to go out and buy something to get me off wasn't as split second as it may sound. I've been feeling the urge since the beginning of the summer, especially since I knew I would barely be seeing my boyfriend for the next three months. "Love Yourself Week" was the extra push I needed to get the fires of curiosity hot enough to finally get me to seek out battery-powered satisfaction. Once I made the decision, I began the prep work for my purchase.
I get a little anxious when I am about to go into a new situation. I had this awful vision of myself walking into a sex shop and clumsily man-handling vibrators and sending jiggling dildos flopping to the floor. Or ending up in some shop like the Badd Kitty or Lion's Den that I pass on the highway, where I imagine most of the customers are pit-stained men choosing between "Barely Legal" or "The Axis of Anal" pornos. So I did a little bit of browsing online and decided to make my right of passage purchase at Babeland. I chose a close by New York City location that was praised for having "a friendly, knowledgeable, and mostly female staff." I spent another half hour browsing their web page getting familiar with the carnal gadgets they had to offer so I wouldn't go in totally intimidated. The Frisky: Top Ten Scariest Sex Toys For Men
The following day, I decided to dive in before I could come up with some lame reason why I shouldn't give a sex toy a try. On the walk to Babeland, I spent the whole time practicing the hypothetical conversation I would have with one of the employees, replaying it over and over like a mantra to prevent me from standing there mouth agape and blubbering out half-words.
As usual, I was getting myself worked up about something that would turn out not only be a calm experience, but an empowering one.