I Tried Kegel Weight Lifting With Etsy Eggs And Burned My Insides

Here's how to strengthen your most intimate areas.

woman holding eggs progressman/ Shutterstock

I decided it would be a good idea to strength-train my vagina prior to meeting my current bedfellow, Buddy.

When the small pink Chinese-inspired silk bag arrived I began to have my doubts. It contained three dark green marble eggs ranging from quail-sized to full-on Jumbo chicken. A plastic string was connected to each.

I explained to Buddy that I was to put these eggs up my vagina and then kegel to keep it, as I said to him, right and tight.


Vaginal health matters, you guys. 

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“I’m not opposed,” he said, “but your vagina is very strong already.” He seemed concerned. I flashed to us in bed, my vagina leaping up and punching him as hard as possible in the balls. “Just what do you think you’re doing, tough guy?”

I imagined my vagina demanding Buddy and his c*** and balls. In this scenario, my vagina is voiced by Clint Eastwood. (But I feel like that kind of goes without saying.)

Buddy is correct. My pelvic floor rocks. I’m 32 and wide-set. That’s right, mama’s packing a big old in-hole. But Mama is not actually a mama. And, for all her lewdness, mama was a bit of a late bloomer. Mama’s woman-cat is in fighting form.


But I know the way the human body works. You can't take anything good you’ve got going on physically for granted ever.

I used to have beautiful fair skin. Then I went without SPF and now my arms are a map of the stars ... if the stars were moles that needed annual checkups.

So regardless of its current strength, Clint “My Vagina” Eastwood needed to start thinking in the long term.

That meant ordering a three-egg vagina training kit from Etsy: Home to all your vaginal needs. When I requested this item by way of YourTango’s own Tom Miller, he broke his usual quiet discretion to beg me to make sure I boiled them before putting them anywhere near and/or in my person.


Let it never be said that I did not heed, Tom.

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That said, post-boiling I did not wait quite as long as I perhaps should have before insertion.

Turns out you can burn your vagina.

Imagine sipping hot chocolate too quickly and that terrible peeling on the top of your mouth. Now imagine that there is no hot chocolate and that instead you have shoved a boiling hot marble egg up yourself for purposes of vanity.

Once I recovered from that life-altering ordeal, I went full Three Bears with it and chilled the eggs before insertion.

This was also not a great idea but left me unharmed if overly refreshed.


(I’ll take that permanently startled feeling any day over maybe having to explain to an ER doc that I’ve boiled my vagina.)

Because I am wide-set, I went with the middle egg fearing that the smallest one would somehow bypass my cervix and get sucked inside my heart where it would kill me.

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(Also true story: I did not go to medical school.)

It felt a lot like having a stone marble egg inside your vagina would feel. The weight was surprising. I had to Kegel just to keep it in place, which I guess is the point.

I was terrified it would somehow stimulate my G-spot leaving with rocking all-day orgasms. That did not happen. Which is good. I am a WASP. I am not wired to while away the day fulfilling myself sexually. WHO AM I, MADONNA?


The eggs served their purpose.

When I removed it (it made a hilarious pop, like a less enjoyable champagne uncorking), I was surprised to feel muscle fatigue, and even more surprised by the good-soreness I felt the next day.

After a week of training, I am pretty sure that my vagina could fight a mob of the undead.

Eastwood, out.

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Rebecca Jane Stokes is a freelance writer and the former Senior Editor of Pop Culture at Newsweek with a passion for lifestyle, geek news, and true crime.