Tag: mental health

Header image for Destiny Marshall guest post on losing your libido on antidepressants

[Guest Post] When Your Antidepressant is Anti-Libido by Destiny Marshall

Published on by Amy

Remember the fantastic guest post about navigating OCPD and sex back in October? I’m delighted to welcome writer Destiny Marshall (she/her) back again today with another post about antidepressants and libido – a struggle I know all too well! This post was inspired by, and forms a companion piece of sorts, to Karen Colby’s personal essay about losing her libido in her 50s and then finding it again in her 60s.

Over to Destiny!

Amy x

When Your Antidepressant is Anti-Libido by Destiny Marshall

Sometimes, we have experiences but don’t give serious thought to them until something or someone else draws our attention to them. That’s what happened to me when I read Karen Colby’s post about her sex life on Coffee & Kink. When she mentioned coming off certain medications and regaining her sex drive, I suddenly remembered my own experience with psychotropic medication.

For a bit of background, I grew up in purity culture, and it wasn’t until I was 20 that I had sex for the first time. Even before then, though, I knew I was really into sex. I had a multitude of crushes, and I was an accomplished flirter. Feeling guilty over my “sins” didn’t stop me from making out often.

Sometime after starting university, I broke out of purity culture. That was when I started actively considering having sex. The first time didn’t cause stars to fall from heaven, but it was beautiful and I knew I wanted to do it often. Once I started, there was no stopping me. I was sex-positive before I knew the term existed.

In 2020, I was diagnosed with borderline personality disorder, clinical depression, and generalised anxiety disorder. My psychiatrist wanted to place me on medication. I was hesitant, because of some vaguely negative view of psychotropics. But I was at rock bottom, thanks in part to the coronavirus pandemic, and I needed help to get myself up. I was prescribed an antidepressant, and soon afterwards, an antipsychotic. And so it began.

I daresay that no doctor ever hands you a prescription and says, “Here’s to wrecking your sex life!” (though I haven’t seen enough of them to be sure.) In my experience, the only drugs worse for my sex life than those associated with mental illness were hormonal contraceptives, but that’s a whole other blog post.

I lost a great deal of control over my body while on the medication. I no longer had any say over when I wanted to sleep, because I was sleeping most of the time. I bloated up like a ball. My dreams got weirder and weirder. My already healthy appetite felt like it was on steroids. Worse still, I nearly had an aneurysm thinking I’d got breast cancer when I started secreting breastmilk (a side effect of risperidone that nobody tells you about). But, perhaps, no side effect got to me more than the loss of my sex drive.

At first, I didn’t notice what was happening. It started as feeling a bit disconnected when sexting with my then-boyfriend. I thought the physical distance between us was the matter, and I’d feel all spicy once I was with him again. But the anticipated spiciness still failed to come through when we got together in person. I couldn’t find my enthusiasm any more. I admitted to myself that I was having a low libido moment, and assumed things would be better next time.

I started getting worried when the next time was a lot worse. Here I was, with a person I loved and was crazily attracted to, and I didn’t want to kiss him. I didn’t want to be touched by him. I finally had a lightbulb moment and linked my libido dip to the drugs I was taking. It felt a bit comforting to know I wasn’t losing my love of sex out of the blues, but that didn’t make it any easier to accept.

I tried to fight my way back to being a sex lover. The disconnect between the great sex I’d had in the past and my present fumbling self was disconcerting. I tried going into a performative mode to keep my reputation alive, but it just wasn’t working. I didn’t feel like sex, and that was that about that.

Tired out, I surrendered. When sex partners asked what was up, I let them know I was on medication and as a result, was no longer in the mood. I started thinking that, perhaps, I might never like sex again. I started wondering what all the fuss about sex was about. Porn nauseated me. I forgot how it felt to touch myself.

On the flip side, I was feeling better mentally. Trading sexual pleasure for peace of mind seemed like a perfectly good bargain. Despondency soon gave way to acceptance. I had lost my sex drive to my drugs, and that was alright. I settled into my non-desire for sex. It wasn’t the end of the world.

I was on the meds for two years. I got quite a lot better. But the side effects had still not really worn off, and I was becoming weary of them. After two years, I did some research and weaned myself off the meds, since the psychiatrists wouldn’t listen to my consistent request to be taken off them (medical gaslighting is a real thing). I can’t remember what I expected, but my sex drive didn’t come roaring back. For some time, things were as they were. It didn’t help that I was far away from most of my sex partners.

But slowly, my desire was returning. I started off returning to masturbating. I was thrilled to feel horny again, even if slightly. When I had been with myself for a bit, I finally wanted to be with another person again. My hormones were still finicky, so the road to libido restoration was slow and bumpy. But it did happen.

I’m glad I got off the meds. They had done their job when I needed them to, and I was doing well with therapy. I’d gotten to the point where their side effects were beginning to outweigh their benefits. The medical community has a long way to go in listening to the patient, so it helps to be in tune with our bodies, to know what they need at each point and to honour that.

Looking back at the experience, I wish I gave myself more grace and didn’t feel the need to force a desire that wasn’t there. It’s alright to not want sex all the time, no matter how sex-positive you are. We needn’t place sex-god(dess) expectations on ourselves, and we have no business shouldering other people’s expectations, either.

Sex drive isn’t a constant. It dips and peaks, based on several variables. But what we can make a constant in our lives is being true to how we feel at any given moment. The best sex we’ll ever have is the sex we really want to have.

About the Writer

Destiny Marshall is obsessed with the interconnectedness of mental health and sexuality. When she’s not writing about that, she works on her meme scientist ambitions and gets to know her bed better.

Header image for guest post on OCPD by Destiny Marshall

[Guest Post] Navigating Sex When You Have OCPD by Destiny Marshall

Published on by Amy

I’m sure you all know by now that I am passionate about mental health, destigmatising mental health challenges, and integrating our sex lives with our mental health in positive and sustainable ways. That’s why I was delighted to accept this guest post from writer Destiny Marshall (she/her) all about navigating sex with Obsessive Compulsive Personality Disorder, or OCPD.

Navigating Sex When You Have OCPD by Destiny Marshall

Obsessive Compulsive Personality Disorder (OCPD) is a mental health disorder that causes a chronic preoccupation with orderliness, perfectionism, and control. A person with OCPD is rigid in the way they see life and carry out everyday tasks. Flexibility and compromise are dangerous and hated words. And they often don’t realise that their behaviour and thought patterns are problematic. As far as they’re concerned, their way is THE way, and you lot are just wrong.

OCPD is different from the more familiar Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD). With OCD, unwanted and intrusive thoughts (obsessions) cause one to engage in repetitive behaviours (compulsions) to relieve the distress. People with OCD are usually aware that they have a problem and need professional help. Not so with OCPD folks.

When I got my OCPD diagnosis, my obsession with perfectionism and order and absolute control suddenly made a lot of sense. But I never considered that the disorder might be affecting my sex life. 

That was until one night, a partner texted to say they were in my neighbourhood and what about a quickie in the car? That sounded far from great to me. I’m not a spontaneous person who will just dash out their door to go grab an orgasm, even if they were in the mood and the world was ending in ten. If it’s not in my to-do list, it will have to wait to get pencilled in.

I tried to wiggle out of the proposition from my partner. But in the end, I acknowledged to myself that living a little would not kill me, even if it messed with my precious daily schedule.

The sex wasn’t bad. It could’ve been much more, but I couldn’t shake off the fact that this was deviating from how I thought sex should be. And that’s before we get into how tricky cleanup can be in a space as constricted as a car. I was thoroughly uncomfortable.

That experience made me introspect and realise all the tiny little ways that OCPD was sabotaging sex for me.

A person with OCPD may find themselves having rigid expectations of how sex should play out – which is perfectly. Any deviation from this “ideal” is nothing short of a failure. And because life is life and we can’t guarantee perfection in every situation, OCPD folks find themselves in a pattern of avoidance, dissatisfaction, or both.

In trying to keep up to standard, people with OCPD may turn sex into a performance. You know what I’m talking about – hitting those moan-notes you think you ought to be hitting even when you’re not feeling like it; keeping it going even when your mind is no longer in it, because it’s supposed to be enjoyable and admitting it isn’t is a catastrophe of great magnitude.

Strategies for Navigating Sex and OCPD

Sex usually calls for some level of spontaneity and surrender. But are we really our OCPD selves if we relinquish control? The universe forbid we should let go and enjoy ourselves without inhibition!

It’s stifling. You want to live a little, but you feel like you’re wired not to. What to do?

Having OCPD and having a fun sex life don’t have to be mutually exclusive. In my experience, patience and communication and self-compassion can Make Love Great Again. Below are some strategies that have helped me. Feel free to pick what works for you and trash the rest:

Acknowledge Your Feelings

It’s essential to recognise and accept how you feel about sex. Whether you’re anxious, frustrated, or even ashamed of your struggles, these feelings are valid, and acknowledging them is the first step toward addressing them. Sit with yourself and have that solo TED Talk.

Communicate with Your Partner

One time, right before meeting up with a partner, I got into a depressive bout. I didn’t want to bail out because that would ruin my schedule and all the expectations, which would be unforgivable. At some point, prodded by my partner, I finally opened up about how I was feeling. They were super supportive, and we walked through our feelings to a place that felt good. It ended in the tenderest lovemaking.

Communicating with your partner is key. Let them know about your challenges and how OCPD affects your experience of sex. This builds understanding and a supportive environment where you both feel comfortable. Be honest, and set clear boundaries that make you feel safe. 

Focus on Connection, Not Perfection

Sex, like life, doesn’t have to be perfect to be enjoyable. We all know this, but we usually need to be reminded. 

Mindfully ground yourself in the present. Attune all your senses to the moment. When you find your mind wandering, gently draw yourself back to your body, where it is in space, and what’s happening to it.

Give yourself grace to let yourself go, then let yourself go. If it helps, take away attention from yourself: focus on the person(s) you’re with, and how they’re experiencing the moment with you.  

Develop a Pre-Sex Ritual…

Creating a pre-sex ritual can help you transition from your daily routine to a more relaxed state. Maybe you take a warm bath; practice mindful breathing; say a mantra (you can borrow mine: Right now, in this moment, pleasure, not perfection); or spend time cuddling with your partner. A ritual helps signal to your brain that it’s time to shift gears, which can help reduce anxiety.

…And a Post-Sex Ritual

It’s a lot easier for me to let myself go and get as messy as the situation calls for, when I know I can take all the time I need to clean and organise and get back into routine afterwards.

Personality disorders take time to work on. You’re not going to wave a wand and suddenly banish your desire for order and control. Making provisions for returning to whatever normalcy feels like for you after sex can help you enjoy the moment a lot more.

Seek Help

If OCPD is significantly affecting your sex life, consider seeking help from a mental health professional. Therapy can provide you with tools to manage your symptoms and navigate sexual experiences more effectively.

If trustworthy professional help is something out of your reach (and even if it isn’t), prioritise self care. A therapy skills workbook, which you can work through at your own pace, can also help greatly.

Practise Self-Compassion

Living with OCPD can be challenging. We tend to beat ourselves up for every little failure, real or imagined. Self-compassion, then, is a must. 

Remember to be kind to yourself when things don’t go as planned, and remember that it’s okay to struggle. You’re doing your best, and that’s enough. Paste that everywhere so you don’t forget for a second.

Celebrate small wins when you make progress, and forgive yourself when you fail a little. Everyone falls off sometimes. Even your favourite influencer.

So, yeah, sex can get messy and disorderly. But that’s not going to stop us from channelling our inner Inanna and lusting ourselves out, OCPD be damned. Amen.

About the Writer

Destiny Marshall is obsessed with the interconnectedness of mental health and sexuality. When she’s not writing about that, she works on her meme scientist ambitions and gets to know her bed better.

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How Negative Past Experiences Can Impact Your Polyamorous Relationships and 5 Things You Can Do About It [Polyamory Conversation Cards #17]

Published on by Amy

Unless we have been exceptionally lucky, almost all of us have had at least some negative past experiences in our lives. This can range from the regular “difficult stuff” of life (bad breakups, relationship struggles, work woes, money worries, and so on) through to trauma, abuse, loss and grief, serious illness or injury, and more. We carry these experiences with us and, in many cases, they can continue to harm us long after the original bad thing has passed.

In case you missed it, this post is part of a series inspired by Odder Being’s Polyamory Conversation Cards. As often as I can, I’ll pull a card at random and write a piece of content based on it. There will likely be some essays, advice pieces, personal experiences, rants, and more! You can read the whole series at the dedicated tag. And if you want to support my work and get occasional bonus content, head on over to my Patreon.

This week’s card asks:

“What do your partners need to know about anxieties or bad experiences you’ve had in the past that might influence your relationships?”

So today we’re talking negative past experiences that can impact your polyamorous relationships and how to navigate these challenges successfully.

How Negative Past Experiences Can Impact Current Relationships

We are all a product of the various life experiences we have had, beginning pretty much from birth. There is now good evidence, for example, that our attachment styles are formed in very early childhood in response to our relationships with our primary caregivers. Bad experiences in relationships, in particular – from painful breakups to abuse – can continue to impact us in future relationships.

Has your partner ever done something, even inoccuously or with good intentions, that reminded you of a bad past experience in another relationship? If so, you might be familiar with those awful feelings of your stomach dropping, your nervous system kicking into high gear, or your fight-flight-freeze-fawn impulses jumping to life.

Perhaps you reacted badly, as though you were still living through the bad past experience. Perhaps you got extremely upset or distressed, or fought with your partner. Maybe they were confused, hurt, or angry because they didn’t understand where this extreme reaction had come from.

In a less obvious but no less damaging way, negative past experiences can cause us to put up walls, refuse to make ourselves vulnerable, hold back from trusting even the most trustworthy partners, or even hesitate to form intimate relationships at all.

How This Can Look in Polyamory

In many ways, the manifestation of bad past experiences in present relationships is broadly similar whether you’re monogamous or polyamorous. However, there are particular and specific ways this can manifest in polyamory that aren’t relevant in monogamy. Most commonly, this appears in the context of your feelings about or reactions to your partner(s) having relationships with other people.

For example, past relationship traumas or attachment wounds can manifest in extreme jealousy, possessiveness, insecurity, or anxiety around your partners’ other relationships. Some people will turn these feelings outwards, attempting to control their partners or implement rigid rules in an attempt to keep themselves safe. Others will turn them inwards, convincing themselves that they are unworthy, unloveable, and that their partners are inevitably going to leave them for other people.

You might experience intense feelings such as sadness or rage, or you might feel empty or “numb”. You might experience intense feelings of fear, rejection, abandonment and so on. This can happen even if polyamory is something you genuinely want and are wholeheartedly on board with and consenting to.

…And 5 Positive Things You Can Do About It

So you’ve identified that in some way, your negative past experiences are having a detrimental impact on your current relationship(s.) In this section we’ll look at five things you can do about it.

This is not a recipe to never feel difficult feelings in polyamory again. This also isn’t a substitute for professional support in dealing with your struggles. It’s just a collecton of tools that I and my partners and friends have found helpful, in the hope that some of them might help you too.

1. Take Stock to Make Sure Patterns Aren’t Repeating

Sometimes, triggers or responses to negative past experiences are inaccurate. They are simply your mind trying to protect you and being a little over-vigilant about it (more on this in section 5 below). However, sometimes they’re also on to something real.

Take a moment, once you’ve calmed your immediate nervous system response, to take a critical look at your situation and take stock. What is actually happening? How do you feel about it?

It is possible that your current partner really is doing something similar to you that a past partner did, whether intentionally or accidentally. If so, this might require action, from talking to your partner up to leaving the relationship. It’s also possible that your feelings are revealing an unmet need in your relationships, which you can address with your partner(s) once you’ve identified it.

In other words, before you assume your reaction is irrational or doesn’t reflect your current reality, make sure that’s actually true. Trauma survivors are notoriously good at gaslighting ourselves and convincing ourselves that our valid and rational responses to present harm are simply a manifestation of our past experiences.

2. Talk to Your Partner(s) and Ask For What You Need

Good partners want to love and support you through difficulties. In safe relationships, it is vital that you have a space to tell your partners that you are struggling and ask for support.

Try to have this conversation when you’re calm, not while triggered or in the immediate aftermath. Tell your partner(s) about the negative past experiences that are coming up for you, how you are feeling, what strategies you’ve tried so far if any, and what you think you might need from them.

It’s also okay to not be sure what you need and to ask your partner(s) to help you come up with possible solutions, try things out, and figure it out as you go.

3. Go to Therapy

When it comes to dealing with trauma or bad past experiences, there is really no substitute for professional therapy. If you can possibly afford it (or live in a country with a functioning socialised mental health system!) then get yourself into therapy. Many therapists also offer sliding scale systems to help those on lower incomes to access treatment. Look for a sex-positive and polyamory-informed therapist if you can.

In addition to therapy (not instead of!) some people may find it helpful to work with a polyamorous relationship coach. Coaches are not therapists, and are not qualified to help you through trauma and mental health struggles. However, they can help you to develop skills that will improve your polyamorous relationships, teach you more about yourself, and teach you various tools you can use to manage challenges when they come up.

4. Learn to Identify Your Triggers (and Short-Circuit Them)

Chances are, if you pay attention, you will be able to identify some common themes in the specific negative past experiences that are coming up for you and the ways that they manifest in your relationship(s.) Start identifying your specific triggers, or the things that cause you to feel those intense and painful feelings associated with past trauma.

Once you understand what’s being triggered and why, you can implement strategies to bring yourself out of that place more quickly. What will work for you is deeply personal, but here are a few possibilities you might like to try:

  • Giving yourself reassurance, either out loud or in your head, that you are safe and that your partner is not the person/people who harmed you (my therapist likes the phrase “that was then, and this is now”)
  • Taking some deep, intentional breaths (e.g. breathing in for a count of four, holding, then breathing out for another count of four)
  • Doing something physical such as dancing, running, yoga, or even just a few stretches
  • Pausing to count to 10 before reacting
  • Distracting yourself with reading, TV, a video game, a craft project, or any other activity you enjoy
  • Getting out of your head and into your body by doing something physically pleasurable such as taking a hot bath or masturbating

By learning how to calm your nervous system from the immediate, overwhelming intensity of a triggering incident, you can better self-regulate and then address things from a healthier and calmer place.

5. Give Yourself Time and Grace

Here’s something I want you to understand: in holding on to these negative past experiences, your mind and body are trying to keep you safe. They want to prevent you from further harm and keep you from finding yourself in the same situation again.

That is amazing.

If you can, try to show grace and give thanks to the parts of you that are trying to protect you, even while reminding them that they can dial back their vigilance because you are safe now.

I find the technique of self-parenting helpful here. What would you say to an upset or distressed child who was feeling something like what you’re feeling? How would you treat them? Now offer that support, understanding, and compassion to yourself.

These things take time. Your negative past experiences were real and it’s understandable that they still impact you. But you’ve got this.

Resources

This stuff is complicated and I cannot possibly create a comprehensive guide. These are a few resources that helped me; maybe they’ll help you too.

If you’ve identified that baggage, trauma, or other negative past experiences are impacting your polyamorous relationships, how have you dealt with them?

This post contains affiliate links.

Header image featuring a woman sitting on a sofa with a cat on her lap and a book by her side. For a post on tools I use to manage anxiety and depression

5 Tools & Strategies I Use to Manage Anxiety and Depression

Published on by Amy1 Comment

Like so many people, I’ve had mental health challenges since childhood. Anxiety of some kind is my near-constant companion, and fluctuating bouts of depression come and go in waves. Learning to manage anxiety and depression is an every day part of my reality, and something I’ve got pretty good at over the years.

In this post I wanted to share five of the tools and strategies that work for me. The same things may or may not work for you. We’re all different! If anything here resonates, take it. If not, find what works for you and do that.

Disclaimer: I use all these tools alongside support from professionals, including prescription medication and regular therapy.

Crafts

I am not a person who can meditate. Sitting still and trying to “just be with my thoughts” makes me want to crawl out of my own skin. Apparently this is pretty common for people with ADHD. What I do find meditative, though, is doing things with my hands. Crafts are amazing for this because they are just complicated enough to draw my focus, while also allowing me to mull things over in my mind and process.

Fibre crafts such as knitting, crochet and embroidery have played a central role in getting me through the most devastating breakup of my life and pulling me out of the resulting depression-pit these last few months. (You can’t ill-advisedly text the person who broke your heart if your hands are full of yarn, after all!)

Stories

It’s perhaps not surprising that, as a writer, one of the main ways I understand the world is through stories. Absorbing stories – whether through paper books or ebooks, audiobooks, TV, films, or other media – is absolutely essential in keeping my brain relatively healthy and functional.

When I need hope that there is still love out there for me, I reach for sweet sapphic romances. If I need to draw my attention away from spiralling anxious thoughts, an absorbing thriller that keeps me guessing can distract me. Redemption stories remind me that we can bounce back from our worst failures, utopias allow me to believe that the world can get better, and if all else fails it’s just nice to get lost in someone else’s world for a while.

My Weighted Blanket

I just recently tried a weighted blanket for the first time after hearing about them for years. Some studies suggest that the deep pressure provided by weighted blankets might help to promote relaxation, alleviate anxiety, and help people to feel calmer. Extensive anecdotal evidence also suggests their effectiveness.

All weighted blankets are slightly different. Mine is the size of a single quilt and weighs in at 15lb (just under 7kg) and is filled with glass nano-beads that apply pressure evenly across the body.

I have always found touch, pressure, and intense physical sensation to be helpful in pulling me out of my head and grounding me in my body. This is one of the reasons I like to get a massage when I’m feeling really stressed or anxious. I believe it’s also one of the reasons I like BDSM. The weight of the blanket is another way to apply firm, pressured touch to my body. Personally, I’m finding it a highly effective (not to mention cosy!) addition to the array of tools I use to manage anxiety and depression.

Extroversion

Does this sound counter-intuitive? There seems to be a pervasive assumption that people with anxiety, depression and other mental health struggles are always introverts. This just isn’t true. I have found that tapping into my extroversion is amongst my most powerful tools in helping me to manage anxiety and depression.

Extroversion is about craving connection with others and loving social interaction. Getting into extrovert mode and going out, even when part of me just wants to curl up with my cat and a strong gin, helps me to feel like a part of the world again. It reminds me that I can be fun, I can be engaging, I can chat and laugh and dance and flirt and feel happy, even if just for an evening.

Sex & Kink

I’ve probably fallen into the trap of using sex and kink to alleviate mental health challenges in not-very-healthy ways in the past, from attempting to use BDSM as a form of self-harm (FYI, no safe and reputable Top/Dominant will ever knowingly help you to do this!) to sleeping with people I probably shouldn’t have just because I wanted to feel loved and desired.

Fortunately, I’ve come a long way and I can now integrate sex and kink into my mental health toolbox in a much healthier way.

Having an orgasm, whether through masturbation or sex with a partner, can elevate mood and relieve stress. Connecting intimately with a partner can increase feelings of closeness, belonging, and being loved and cared for. Intense sensations from BDSM can be grounding. Getting into subspace can quiet the noise in my head. Getting into the flow of rigging a rope harness can be focused and meditative in much the same way as a craft project. And so on.

How do you manage anxiety and depression or other mental health struggles? Feel free to share your favourite tools and strategies.

Thanks to Simba for gifting me their weighted blanket! All views and writing are my own.

Header image for Tracy's Dog mindful masturbation sponsored post featuring a vibrator, handcuffs and anal beads in a drawer

What is Mindful Masturbation and How Can It Benefit Your Sex Life?

Published on by Amy

It’s no secret that I am a big fan of masturbation in all its forms. I believe it should be promoted, celebrated, taught as part of sex education, and totally destigmatised. There are countless ways to have solo sex, and none of them are better or worse than any others. Are you having fun without harming yourself or anyone else? Congratulations, you’re doing it right.

Today I wanted to introduce you to one possible self-pleasure tool you may not be aware of. Let’s talk mindful masturbation.

What is Mindfulness?

To understand mindful masturbation, we first have to understand mindfulness. In short, mindfulness is all about being present and in the moment.

Many people practice mindfulness meditations, but these don’t work for everyone (they don’t work for me at all, which I think is because I have ADHD.) You can also incorporate it into your day to day life. One of my favourite forms of “meditation” is actually doing something with my hands, such as knitting, colouring, or putting something together and paying attention to how it feels. Simply taking a moment to notice your body, its sensations, your surroundings, and your reaction to those surroundings is a mindfulness practice.

The potential benefits of mindfulness can include stress reduction, improved focus, enhanced self-awareness, and better emotional regulation. It’s not the magic pill some have made it out to be, of course, but it’s a great addition to your mental health and self-care toolbox.

What is Mindful Masturbation and How Do You Do It?

Mindful masturbation, then, is all about being present in your body while you touch yourself. Stay curious and exploratory – it can help to imagine that you’re touching yourself as you’d touch a new lover when you don’t know their body super well yet. You’d experiment, try things out, and stay open to feedback. Do the same thing for yourself and let yourself be surprised.

Mindfulness is also about encouraging your thoughts to stay in the moment. Each time you find your mind wandering, kindly but firmly guide it back. Breathe deeply, ask yourself how you feel, and observe your body and mind’s responses without judgement.

Finally, try to take the focus away from orgasm. If you cum during your session, great! If you don’t, that’s fine, too! The point is to move away from goal-centered masturbation into a more exploratory and pleasure-centric frame of mind.

Whether you choose to use your hands, sex toys, or a mixture of the two is completely your choice. I’m personally an advocate for using both as they can allow you to experience a wide array of different sensations. Why not pick up a new sex toy? For long, slow, luxurious masturbation sessions, I love clit suction toys such as the Flowliper, a new and beginner-friendly clitoral toy with a unique “dynamic pulse” function from Tracy’s Dog.

How Can Mindful Masturbation Benefit Your Sex Life?

No matter your gender, orientation, or relationship status, touching yourself mindfully can help you to tune into your body, get to know your desires, and improve your sex life. Here are just a few of the ways it can benefit you.

Learn More About How You Experience Pleasure

Mindful masturbation isn’t about getting off and getting on with your day as quickly as possible. (Not that there’s anything wrong with that type of masturbation! I’m a big fan, in fact, at times. But that’s not what we’re doing here.) Since you’re chasing pleasure without necessarily having the explicit goal of orgasm in mind, you can take your time to try things out and touch your body in different ways. You might be surprised what you learn!

Stress Reduction

Mindfulness has been shown to reduce stress for many people. Guess what? So has masturbation! So combining the two has the potential to give you a powerful stress-buster. Take the time to touch yourself mindfully even just a few times a week, and you might start feeling calmer and more centered throughout the day.

Better and More Frequent Orgasms

I know I just said that orgasm wasn’t the goal here – and it doesn’t have to be. But if you do want to get off, practicing mindful masturbation can help you to have more frequent, stronger, and easier to reach orgasms. This is because you’re more present in your pleasure and turning away from distractions, and because you’re likely learning new ways to enjoy your body.

Paradoxically, taking the focus off orgasm – particularly if you ever struggle to cum – can be one of the best ways to help you get there.

New Skills to Bring Back to Partnered Sex

Masturbation is wonderful regardless of whether you’re in a relationship. And, of course, not everyone who masturbates has (or wants to have) partnered sex. But if partnered sex is a part of your life, mindful self-pleasure can teach you all kinds of new skills and tricks to bring back to your partner(s.) This can include new ways you like to be touched, but also skills such as staying present in the moment and waving away distracting thoughts that get in the way of your pleasure.

Self-Pleasure as Self-Care

Unfortunately and despite the fact that almost everyone does it at least occasionally, masturbation is still heavily stigmatised, especially for women. However, I firmly believe that masturbation is a form of self-care. It feels great, has no negative repercussions, and doesn’t require much beyond a little time and privacy to explore. If you ever struggle with shame around masturbation – or even if you don’t but have treated it in a perfunctory way until now – then mindfully masturbating can be a great way to shift it towards more of a holistic self-love and self-care practice.

Have you tried mindful masturbation? Will you be giving it a go?

Thanks to Tracy’s Dog for sponsoring this post! All views, as always, are mine.

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[Guest Post] Anorgasmia and The Pursuit of Pleasure by Alessandra Fraissinet

Published on by Amy

It’s been quite a while since we had a guest post, hasn’t it? I’m happy to be welcoming Alessandra Fraissinet (they/she), a queer, sex-positive relationship, sex and health educator (RSH), talking about anorgasmia, the orgasm gap, and orgasm difficulties. This has come at a pretty perfect time, especially given that I wrote recently about my own struggles with orgasm and vow to never “fake it” again.

The Pursuit of Pleasure by Alessandra Fraissinet

TW: mention of depression and sexual violence

Part of my job as a sex educator is to encourage people of all genders and sexualities to follow their pleasure. To have sex because it feels good, to release expectations, to be playful, and to move away from the idea of sex as a performance. Under heteronormativity, in particular, sex can be viewed as something you do with a particular aim and, specifically, something that must lead to orgasm.

Now, there are a few things to know about orgasms:

First, orgasms are an involuntary response to a mechanical stimulus, pretty much like a sneeze. That means you or your partner(s) can facilitate the reaction by creating a set of ideal circumstances (trust, relaxation, appropriate stimulation), but that technically no one can make you orgasm except for your own body.

And just as there are a few things you can do to facilitate orgasm, some things can also make it hard to reach. Relaxation, adequate stimulation, good pelvic floor health, safety and trust all contribute to creating an ideal environment for orgasms. On the other hand, physical and psychological factors like depression, anxiety, certain medications, stress, and sexual trauma can prevent you from having orgasms either occasionally or all the time.

People with vulvas, especially cis women who have sex with cishet men, are known to have it harder: this is a well-documented phenomenon known as the orgasm gap. When discussing the orgasm gap, people most often place emphasis on poor communication between partners, male selfishness, and a lack of appropriate pleasure education.

Regardless of sex, gender or sexual orientation, orgasms can be difficult to achieve. This can result in significant pressure during partnered sex especially. Unlearning the idea of sex as a performance, and embracing it as an experience, requires us to release our expectations of a specific outcome and allow pleasure to take whatever form comes naturally in a given moment. This is challenging, especially if – like me – you live with anorgasmia: the extreme difficulty or inability to orgasm.

Anorgasmia can be primary (when you have never had an orgasm) or secondary (when you used to be able to orgasm). It can depend on a variety of different factors: excessive worrying around sexual “performance”, depression and other mood disorders, chronic pain, sexual trauma, hormonal changes, gynaecological surgery, and other health conditions can all cause anorgasmia.

Being a Sex Educator with Anorgasmia

So here I am, embodying the contradiction of being a sex educator who is not only unable to orgasm, but is also consistently failing to address what is “wrong” with their body. Here I am telling people they need to stop obsessing over orgasms and start enjoying sex for pleasure and connection… when I can rarely practice what I preach.

And don’t get me wrong, it’s not that I don’t enjoy sex for the sake of pleasure and connection because I do. Because I don’t cum, pleasure and connection pretty much constitute the whole deal to me. But to be completely honest, most of the time, I am immensely frustrated with my body. I feel betrayed. And I feel like my body has failed me.

I can’t seem to recall my first orgasms – or even whether I have ever actually experienced one. My first experiences with sex were turbulent, to put it mildly. But even now, when I am having super hot sex, when I am really turned on, and when I am having sex with someone who I trust and who cares about me, I cannot ever bring myself to climax. No matter the amount of adequate stimulation I am receiving. No matter how many sex toys I’m aiding myself with.

I always come super close to it, and then… I wish I could say it’s like a deer in headlights that simply stops and goes away, never to be seen again. But the reality is that the pleasure becomes unbearable at this point, and I ask my partner to stop (or I stop if I am masturbating).

Reactions are mixed. Some people (you guessed it, mostly cis men) don’t say a word, and I am not even sure they notice. Some seem puzzled and thrown off or ask me questions. I then explain what happens to my body. While there is a general understanding, most people seem very surprised by it.

Talking About It

Telling partners about my anorgasmia can be even more frustrating than having the condition itself. Attempting to articulate what happens to my body while I’m experiencing intense pleasure without ever being able to follow through puts me right in front of the issue I’ve consistently been trying to avoid (which is another perfect example of “do as I say, not as I do”). And the reason why I avoid the issue is that actively trying to overcome it seems way too overwhelming.

There’s something terrifying about realising that you are indeed in charge of your own pleasure. Your partners can aid and facilitate it but cannot create it from scratch and give it to you. If you want to experience it, you must show up for yourself. That can mean a few different things: communicating with your partner openly and honestly and asking for what you want, making time and being intentional about solo sex, or going to therapy and facing uncomfortable truths. Sometimes all three, and more, together.

For years, I’ve refused to address my anorgasmia in the name of pleasure. Because sex feels good no matter what. Because I can still feel close to my partner. And because I firmly reject all sorts of expectations around sex. Wanting more doesn’t make me a hypocrite, though. If you take away one thing from this post, let it be this: you can embrace orgasm-less pleasure while being curious and trying to overcome your limitations. I deserve powerful, earth-shattering orgasms, and so do you.

“You deserve pleasure” has become a popular catchphrase in sex-positive communities, and rightfully so. But to internalise this message is difficult. And if you’ve been struggling with depression, low self-esteem or sexual trauma, taking charge of your own pleasure can feel overwhelming and out of
reach. There’s no quick fix and no magic wand, but there is important work to do.

If you would like to support me in bringing more amazing guest writers to the site, the best way to do that is by becoming a supporter on Patreon. You can also chip in by buying me a virtual coffee!

Header image for a post about dealing with guilt after masturbating

How to Get Rid of Shame and Guilt After Masturbating

Published on by Amy

Did you know that May is Masturbation Month? This month, aimed at celebrating all things jerking off, started life with the first National Masturbation Day on 7 May, 1995, declared by sex shop Good Vibrations in honour of Surgeon General Joycelyn Elders (who was fired by President Bill Clinton a year earlier for suggesting that masturbation should be part of the sex education curriculum. Yes, really.)

It will not come as a surprise to anyone who reads my writing that I believe masturbation is a wonderful thing. (What else would the woman who owns over 150 sex toys say!?) Unfortunately, it’s still a highly stigmatised and under-discussed topic in society generally. This is particularly true when it comes to the subject of masturbation for women and people with vulvas, though all genders can be and are impacted.

I couldn’t find any reliable statistics on how many people feel shame and guilt after masturbating. However, based on anecdotal evidence, I am willing to bet it’s a significant number. So what can you do if you’re one of them? I don’t have any easy answers, because this stuff is complicated, but I do have a few suggestions for you. As always, take the ones that work for you and leave the ones that don’t.

Figure Out Where the Shame is Coming From

If you feel shame or guilt after masturbating, those feelings have come from somewhere. None of us are born with an inherent sense of shame about our bodies and our sexuality.

Often, it’s religion. Unfortunately, repressive religious teachings about sexuality have a lot to answer for. These teachings tend to be utterly unrealistic (“never have a single sexual feeling until you get married, then have amazing sex with your spouse right out of the gate”, anyone?) They are often laced with all kinds of factual inaccuracies. They’re also wildly hypocrital, because A) as we’ll see, most people masturbate, including those who rail against it, and B) sexually repressive religion is an absolute hotbed of sexual abuse and violence.

I’m a committed atheist and I’m certainly not going to tell you what your relationship with religion or God should look like. But I invite you to consider this: do you really think that, considering *gestures at the entire world being on fire in all of the ways*, God’s biggest concern is whether you enjoy some self-induced orgasms? Religious sexual shame is primarily a mechanism of control, particularly of women and women’s bodies.

Or perhaps your feelings come from a time when someone else shamed you for touching yourself. This shame might have come from parents or other adults in your life when you were young, from peers and friends, from regressive sex education, or even from sexual partners.

It’s also possible that you have had none of these experiences, and have simply internalised some societal messaging about masturbation. That happens to so many of us. It’s also possible that a collection of experiences have led you to where you are now.

Once you understand where your guilt after masturbating stems from, you can start addressing it. Whatever it was, start by hearing this: you’re not alone, and you’re not broken.

Get Educated

Ask yourself what you learned about masturbation when you were growing up, if anything. Where did those messages come from? Chances are they came from a place of stigma and misinformation, not facts. The absolute best way to combat misinformation you’ve been fed is so arm yourself with accurate info instead. That means it’s time to get educated on all things self-pleasure.

Some of the resources I recommend include the classic Sex For One by Betty Dodson, The Ultimate Guide to Solo Sex by Jenny Block, Getting Off: A Woman’s Guide to Masturbation by Jayme Waxman, Bang!: Masturbation for People of All Genders and Abilities by Vic Liu, and V: An Empowering Celebration of the Vulva and Vagina by Florence Schechter (a more general book about vaginas and vulvas that includes a section on masturbation.)

You know what? Let’s get started right now. Here some facts for you:

  • The vast majority of people of all genders masturbate at some point in their lives, and many do so frequently.
  • There is no “normal” amount to masturbate. Whether you do it multiple times a day, once in a while, or not at all, that’s all healthy and good as long as it is what works for you.
  • It is also normal to go through periods of masturbating more or less frequently. Hormones, physical or mental health and illness, age, disability, stress levels, pregnancy and birth, trauma, body image issues, relationships, living situations, medications, and overall happiness or life satisfaction are just a few of the factors that can impact how often a person masturbates… or if they do at all.
  • Huge numbers of people feel guilt after masturbating, but this is because of societal stigma, not because there is anything wrong with masturbation itself.
  • There is no clinical diagnosis of “masturbation addiction” and it is not recognised as addictive by the American Psychological Association. Some experts believe it can occasionally become “compulsive”, but unless your masturbation habits are seriously impacting other areas of your life, such as work, school, relationships, friends, hobbies, or health, it is highly unlikely that they are in any way problematic.
  • Masturbation is not physically harmful in any way. It will not cause you to go blind (do people still believe that one?), cause you to grow more body hair, cause your penis to shrink, or lead to infertility. If you have a vulva, masturbation will not “permanently stretch” your vagina or otherwise damage your genitals.
  • Masturbation is also not emotionally harmful in any way. (Though shame around it can be emotionally damaging – but that’s why we’re working on getting rid of that shame, not getting rid of masturbation!)
  • In fact, masturbation can have some positive health benefits! It can help you to sleep, boost your mood, relieve stress, relieve pain (especially menstrual cramps), and improve your self-esteem. For people with penises, a 2004 study showed that more frequent ejaculation correlated with a decreased risk of prostate cancer!
  • It is still okay, healthy, and perfectly fine to masturbate when you’re in a relationship. Any partner who tells you not to isn’t someone you should be with.
  • It is impossible to tell from physical genital appearance whether or not a person masturbates.

Reframe Masturbation in Your Mind

Now that you’ve identified the source of your shame or guilt after masturbating, it’s time to start reframing the act in your mind.

Instead of viewing masturbation as something shameful or dirty, how about seeing it as an expression of self-care and self-love? For many people, it can also be tremendously empowering. Think about it: you’re enjoying your body on your terms, no-one else’s input or participation required, and you can give yourself such incredible pleasure.

You might find your mind drifting back to those thoughts of shame and guilt. That’s totally normal. Reframing your thoughts and feelings takes time! When this happens, try to gently and non-judgementally notice the feelings and consciously guide your mind away from them.

Think about the other things you do to look after and pamper yourself. Perhaps you like to take hot baths, practice yoga, go to the spa, get a massage, eat your favourite foods, or just snuggle under a blanket in your comfiest clothes. Masturbation is no different. It’s a sensual and sensory experience that you do because it makes you feel good.

It can also help to focus on all the positive benefits you get from masturbation. Aside from the obvious – pleasure, perhaps orgasm – it might help you to feel happier and calmer, to be less stressed, or to sleep better.

In other words, this is all about teaching yourself – through repetition, affirmation, and positive reinforcement – that masturbation is normal, good, healthy, and absolutely nothing to feel guilty about.

Touch Yourself in All Kinds of Ways

When we talk about masturbation, we are typically referring to touching your own genitals for the purposes of pleasure and possibly orgasm. While this is wonderful, it can also be pleasurable and healing to touch yourself in all kinds of different ways. Why not try giving some love to your balls, labia, nipples, breasts or chest, or any other erogenous zones you have instead of going straight for your penis, clit, or vagina?

You can also get a lot of pleasure from touching yourself in non-sexual ways. Try stroking your own body, experimenting with different kinds of touch. Do you prefer a lighter or a firmer touch? Do certain areas feel good while other areas feel unpleasant to touch? All of this is such valuable information that you can take forward into both solo or partnered sexual adventures.

You could give yourself a massage (with or without a sexy massage oil), or experiment with solo sensation play toys and techniques such as ice, hot wax, Wartenberg wheels, vampire gloves, clips or clamps, sensory deprivation, or stroking with different textured materials.

Watch Others Masturbate

No, not in a creepy or “peeping Tom” way!

Again: the vast majority of people masturbate. Seeing other people do it, and observing the beauty and sensuality and hotness of it, can help to not only normalise masturbation and shed feelings of shame around it, but also to open up different avenues of pleasure that you may not have thought of.

The easiest way to do this, of course, is porn. If you go down this route, please seek out ethical and consensual content and pay for it. Buying directly from the performers is usually best where possible. Some people suffer from increased guilt after masturbating if they use porn. Please remember, though, that – as long as you are not watching content that is stolen or non-consensual – there’s nothing inherently wrong with it.

If porn isn’t your thing, how about a series of educational videos showcasing real masturbation techniques? I’m really into the content at Climax, particularly the videos about self-pleasure for vulvas. You can subscribe for a monthly fee to get access to the full library of content, or buy and keep the individual programmes you want. OMGYes is another hugely popular resource, though I haven’t tried it myself.

If you live in a location where such things are accessible and legal, you could even attend a hands-on masturbation class such as the world-famous Bodysex series of workshops.

Finally, if you have a partner or partners, you could experiment with masturbating in front of one another. This can be not just extremely hot, but also have that validating and normalising effect I mentioned above.

Visit a Feminist, Pleasure-Positive Sex Shop

If you’ve never visited a sex shop before, take a second to think about your idea of one. Do you envision something seedy, hidden away down a back alley and frequented by creeps? Think again! Many of today’s sex shops are erotic boutiques that are welcoming, inclusive, non-threatening, and pleasure-focused.

Visiting a good sex shop, whether to buy a toy or just to browse, can be a profoundly validating and healing experience if you deal with shame around masturbation. You’ll see a huge variety of toys, apparel, kink gear and more on display, showcasing all the different ways people like to get off and get it on (with themselves and with others.)

Some of my favourite UK-based sex shops are Sh! and Coco de Mer in London and She Said in Brighton. US-based readers have places like Good Vibrations’ nine retail outlets, Portland’s SheBop, and Babeland in Seattle and New York. In Canada, there’s Come As You Are and Good For Her in Toronto, and Venus Envy in Halifax and Ottawa. A quick online search will help you find your nearest feminist sex shop.

Can’t get to one or prefer to shop from the comfort of your couch (or bed)? My favourite online feminist sex shops include The Pleasure Garden and SheVibe.

Consider Seeing a Sex-Positive Therapist

Shame is an incredibly powerful feeling, and you might be struggling to vanquish it by yourself. If you are struggling to get rid of guilt after masturbating, it’s time to see a sex-positive therapist. You might go down the route of psychosexual therapy (sometimes just called “sex therapy” for short) or seek out a regular psychotherapist who is sex-positive and experienced in supporting clients with issues surrounding sex, masturbation, and sexual shame.

There’s absolutely nothing wrong with getting some professional support. These issues are complex and you don’t have to tackle them alone. Be gentle with yourself and don’t be afraid to ask for help if you need it.

Have you ever suffered from shame or guilt after masturbating? How did you handle it and do you have any tips or strategies to share that may help others dealing with the same thing?

This post contains affiliate links as well as non-affiliated resource recommendations. Image by Deon at Let’sTalkSex.

Header image for a guest post about being a submissive with ADHD by Redridingbrat

[Guest Post] Being a Submissive with ADHD by Redridingbrat

Published on by Amy1 Comment

While I don’t have an actual diagnosis of ADHD, I’ve long felt that it’s something I very likely have at least to some degree. Whenever I see any ADHD content, from medical information to memes, I find myself going “yep, it me”. So I wasn’t altogether surprised when I also found this piece from my friend Redridingbrat (she/her) deeply relatable.

I feel very strongly that kink is for all consenting adults who want to engage in it. Many of the images we see online and in the media are reductive, exclusionary, and harmful. That’s why it’s so important to me to represent a diversity of experiences on this blog. To that end, I’m thrilled to bring you this piece from RRB on ADHD and submission.

As always, you can help me to pay more lovely guest writers by chipping in via the tip jar.

Amy x

Being a Submissive with ADHD by Redridingbrat

What comes to mind when you think of the perfect submissive?

Perhaps it is someone who is entirely focused on their Dominant, able to follow the rules and pre-emptively do whatever their Dominant might desire.

How does this change when you have ADHD?

ADHD, or attention deficit hyperactivity disorder, is a medical condition that affects the way a person thinks and acts. This often presents as someone being inattentive, hyperactive, and impulsive – three things that can often clash with the pop culture view of submission. As a submissive with ADHD, I have had to work with my Dominant to make sure that my submission isn’t adversely affected by my ADHD.

One of the ways inattention in ADHD can affect a D/s dynamic is forgetfulness. Forgetting rules, forgetting tasks, forgetting where things have been placed… not something that is in the picture-perfect view of a “sub”! Thankfully, this is something this can be easily accommodated. Having the rules written up and displayed somewhere is a straightforward way of not relying on the memory. Having things placed in see through or open containers lets you quickly see where they are. A long-term solution is to have your Dominant help you create habits, so you do not need to remember a thing.

Another annoying symptom of ADHD is being prone to distraction. Sitting in a corner with no stimulation is my personal idea of hell. It isn’t just me who can suffer as a result of this, though; losing interest in an activity halfway through a scene can very quickly make a Dominant feel like they failed at a scene, and make the submissive then feel guilty for not being able to concentrate. This does not have an easy fix but there are things that help. Doing shorter activities can do wonders, as this gives less chances for the brain to wander off. Sensory deprivation can also help as it can force the submissive to focus on their other senses. The biggest things that can help are open communication and being self-aware. By letting your Dominant know when you are having a bad day focusing, you can reassure each other that neither is at fault when focus issues arise.

On the opposite end of the spectrum, another symptom of ADHD is hyperfocus; getting so consumed by a task that everything else is ignored. When a task is interrupted by something else, it can be extremely hard to bring yourself out of the task and into the new thing, regardless of how urgent it may be. In extreme cases, this can lead to ignoring the need to drink or use the toilet for hours on end. One thing my Dominant has found to help with this is simply asking “when will this be done?”, helping me to verbalise what done looks like as well as giving me a subconscious queue to start bringing myself out of the task. Having a set routine and structure also helps with this as it ensures that my body becomes accustomed to performing certain activities at certain time, with an external check (my Dominant) making sure it is adhered to.

Another symptom of ADHD that is often overlooked is internal motivation. I can often sit in “standby mode”, endlessly scrolling social media whilst given tasks go unfulfilled. Part of this is that a larger task can be overwhelming if not broken down into smaller steps, making it physically uncomfortable to get started. Something that can really help prevent situations like this is breaking a large task down into multiple smaller parts, while also being clear about what signifies completion of each part. For example, “make yourself presentable for me” can be broken down into: “Go shower, style your hair into a high ponytail, put on a full face of makeup with red lipstick, and wear the red underwear. I want these tasks to be complete by 5pm”. Rewards-based dynamics are also excellent for those who require the internal motivation to be turned external. Extra orgasms for doing a large task? Yes please!

Whilst I have spoken at length about the challenges of having ADHD, it does come with a number of positives too. Those of us with ADHD often excel when in “crisis mode”, meaning we can be very good if something goes wrong in a scene. ADHD folks are also creative in our problem solving, making us the perfect people to do puzzle-based tasks or mend broken toys. And ADHD people can also be more adventurous, making us the perfect partner for trying new activities in the bedroom.

ADHD can make submission hard. It breaks many of the pre-conceived notions of what a “good submissive” looks like. Someone who is forgetful, distractable, and hard to self-motivate is not the “ideal” that is written about in popular literature. However, there are things that can help overcome the barriers that may come up in a D/s dynamic. The main thing to remember is that D/s is not one size fits all. You can customise and change how your relationship looks. You are not a failure if it does not look like the glamorised novels. Anyone can be a submissive. All you need to do is identify as one and find someone who adores you and your style.

Redridingbrat is a switchy brat who loves nothing more than to engage her submissive side. Her main experiences involve rope, D/s and discussions surrounding disability within the kink community.

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How Wand Vibrators Helped Me Reclaim My Sexuality When Antidepressants Killed It

Published on by Amy

I’ve been on antidepressants for the majority of my adult life, in three separate stints. I’m very pro medication for those who need it which, at the times I was taking it, I absolutely did. I’m not exaggerating when I say that those meds saved my life on more than one occasion.

Wand vibrators - Honey Wand from Honey Play Box
Honey Wand by Honey Play Box

But like any medications, antidepressants often have side effects, which can range in severity from mildly annoying to seriously debilitating. One of the worst side effects I experienced on two out of the three antidepressants I tried was a significant change to my sexuality. This manifested in different ways on each drug.

On Fluoxetine (Prozac), I pretty much lost my sexual desire entirely for months. Anything that had been pleasurable just felt like… nothing. This wasn’t limited to sex, either – I also lost my appetite and all ability to derive pleasure from food. On Citalopram, I lost my ability to orgasm while my body adjusted to the meds. While this did have some pleasant results (particularly discovering that I have an orgasm denial kink), it was also upsetting and frustrating. Feeling like I had no control over my body and like I’d lost one of my greatest sources of pleasure was so damaging that I seriously considered coming off the meds that were otherwise helping with my depression.

Trying Sex Toys

The first time antidepressants killed my sex life, I was so thoroughly miserable (both from the depression and from the side effects of the meds) that I wasn’t even interested in reclaiming it. I’m pretty sure I didn’t have sex or masturbate for about nine months at one stage. In hindsight, this probably made things even worse, because my sexuality has always been one of the key ways that I access pleasure and joy. At that time, I didn’t own any sex toys, and any touch from either myself or my partner left me cold.

The second time was a different matter, though. This time, the antidepressants actually took the edge off the worst of the sadness and hopelessness, and I still wanted sex. I just couldn’t orgasm, either with my partner or by myself. Though orgasm is not necessarily the goal of sex, this quickly became frustrating and then enraging. I felt like my body was betraying me. Like I had to choose between having a properly functioning brain and a satisfying sex life.

The turning point came when my then-partner pulled out a wand vibrator after about a month of this issue. That thing finally broke through the orgasm block. And, once that dam broke, it became easier and easier to get there again. I invested in a wand for myself pretty quickly after that, and it became my go-to toy.

Breaking Through the Depression-Haze

Even now, when I’m not currently on any psychiatric medication (though I accept I might be again in the future), I’m most likely to reach for my wand vibes when I’m in the middle of a bad depression funk. Contrary to popular belief, it’s still possible to feel horny at the same time as being depressed. Sad people need pleasure and orgasms, too! There have also been times when I haven’t felt horny, but I knew intellectually that an orgasm would make me feel better.

Sometimes, when I’m very very depressed, I feel as though there’s a kind of fog around me. The fog keeps me at least partly disconnected from everything and everyone around me. At its worst, it creates a sense of being somewhat outside and detached from my own body. In this state, many types of touch that would normally be pleasurable struggle to penetrate the fog. When that happens, I need intense stimulation and lots of it. It’s times like this that I might crave certain BDSM activities even more than usual. It’s also times like this when knock-your-socks-off powerful wand vibes are a Godsend. It might be possible to power through to orgasm with a lacklustre, buzzy vibrator but ultimately why bother?

The thing with my favourite wand vibes is that ultimately, they can wrench an orgasm from my body with very little active input from me. This has a lot of fun potential (forced orgasm scenes anyone?) It’s also extremely useful during periods of significant depression. If I want to orgasm at my own or a partner’s hand, or with a lower powered toy, it can be fun but often requires significant effort, mentally if not physically. With a powerful enough wand, I basically just put it in the right spot and wait for the orgasm to happen. In this way, I can access pleasure and the positive physical and mental health benefits of orgasm even when I feel so low I don’t want to leave my bed.

Sexual Pleasure Matters

When someone is dealing with severe health issues, either physical or mental, it’s often tempting to see sexual pleasure as trivial. Certainly when I spoke to my doctor about the side effects of my various medications, they dismissed my concerns. Did I want to be able to orgasm or did I want to not be sad? Because I couldn’t have both.

Except I actually could, and I needed and deserved to have both.

If you’re struggling with pleasure or orgasm due to health issues and medication, I want you to hear this: sexual pleasure matters! It’s not trivial and it’s not unimportant. If it’s important to you, then it matters. And you deserve to have what you need to feel sexually satisfied – whether that’s a change of medication, a super powerful vibrator, or just to change up what you’re doing.

Thanks to Honey Play Box for sponsoring this post. All views and experiences are my own!

A woman with long purple hair. For a post on lockdown and body image

How Lockdown has Impacted my Body Image

Published on by Amy1 Comment

I’ve given up, friends – after seven months of this shit, I’m making a COVID times post. So yeah, let’s talk about this clusterfuck of a year as it pertains to body image.

TW: Body struggles, weight (no numbers), fitness, mental health, COVID-19 lockdown, calorie counting (no numbers)

Did any of us think, back in February and early March, that this pandemic was going to impact pretty much every aspect of our lives? Yet here we are. October, and still no end to any of this in sight.

A lot of things in my life have changed this year, most of them directly or tangentially COVID-influenced. And in a world where a lot of things are complicated right now, one of the things that is consistently complicated is my relationship with my body image.

Based on what I’ve read, I’m far from the only person struggling with this. I speak only for myself, but if any of this resonates with you, I want you to know you’re not alone.

The COVID weight gain

My relationship with my weight and body size is a very uneven and complicated thing. I say this with the awareness that I possess rather a lot of thin privilege compared to many folks in larger bodies. Still, I’ve also noticed a drastic change in the way the world responds to me in this body, than the way it responded to me in the (far smaller) body I had in my early 20s.

Prior to COVID hitting, I’d lost a pretty significant amount of weight and was feeling great about it. I’ve put back on…. well, not all of it, but a significant amount. And I know this is Bad Feminist and Not Body Positive of me, but I’m not really okay with it.

The reasons are obvious. No longer walking miles every day across a sprawling University campus. No pole (more on that in a minute). Comfort eating and comfort drinking and honestly, probably just the sheer body-altering impacts of living under chronic stress and low-key terror for seven months.

Breaking up with monitoring

Prior to COVID, I spent c. 4 years dipping in and out of obsessive monitoring phases where I’d track my exercise, my food, my calories, forever chasing the damned green line that said my intake/output balance was “right” that day.

I’ve completely stopped that since lockdown began. I haven’t charged my fitness tracker in months (honestly I’m not even sure where it is at this point). I no longer weigh my food

Strangely, I’ve started to find my way back to a place of equilibrium. I came into lockdown monitoring and tracking and counting, which wasn’t good for me. That gave way to comfort-consuming what food and alcohol gave me a momentary break from the SHEER FUCKING HORROR of it all. Thing is, that approach wasn’t good for me either.

Cake tastes better when I eat it because I actually want it, rather than because I’ve barely slept in three days and a jolt of sugar might help me keep going. I like a G&T as much as the next person, but drinking alone night after night after night in front of a screen doesn’t make you miss your friends and your family and your hobbies and your community and your fucking life any less. It just makes the loneliness worse when the inevitable crash sets in.

Through all this, I seem to have – almost accidentally – hit something approaching balance. I definitely eat more of the things I want than I did when I was counting and tracking everything. And I think that’s a good thing. But I also eat what I actually want and what my body is craving, rather than using sugar and alcohol as a coping strategy.

God knows I am still far from fixing my broken relationship with food. I don’t want to imply for a second that I’ve hit some magical end point. To be honest, I suspect this will be a lifelong journey. All of us, especially women and AFAB people, live in a world that polices our bodies and our food constantly. Finding balance amidst all that? Well, it’s not just a battle you win once.

I’m trying to learn to be more gentle with myself over it all. To accept that I’ll have days when I deal with food guilt and start to slide back into my old obsessive ways. To accept that I’ll also have days where my depression tells me to just lie on the couch and eat my body weight in candy. Both are okay. Both are things I can learn to recognise and work with.

Finding ways to keep fit that feel good

When I found pole dancing in early 2019, I knew I’d finally found a means of exercise that was not only bearable, but brought me joy every time I did it. Of course, I haven’t been able to go dancing since early March (the studio only reopened a couple weeks ago, and my partner and I both feel it’s not sufficiently COVID-safe right now.)

In a world where I can’t do that, I kind of lost motivation to keep fit. It took me a while to even want to do anything else. I tried a few online workouts and didn’t really get on with any of them. The wrong level, absurdly punishing even when labelled as “for beginners”, or just accompanied by too much casual body-shaming commentary.

I was perhaps the last trying-to-keep-fit-on-the-internet person in the entire world to discover Yoga with Adriene. I’ve been working my way through her 30 day challenge for beginners. I’m certainly not going to become a “yoga fixes all things” devotee anytime soon, but I definitely feel physically stronger and mentally more grounded after doing sessions most days for the last few weeks.

What I like about Adriene is the way that she totally decouples the practice of yoga from being about changing your body. Her catchphrase/rallying cry is “find what feels good”. Even her “Yoga for Weight Loss,” which I will admit is how I first found her channel, isn’t really about weight loss.

I also stumbled across a Youtube video that convinced me of the joys of hula-hooping. I bought a hoop and have been doing 15 minutes a day in front of the TV. It’s silly and it’s playful and it’s easy to work up a sweat and feel awesome while my mind is focused on something else (in this case, reruns of Crazy Ex Girlfriend.)

All this to say that finding ways to keep fit in lockdown has been challenging, frustrating, but ultimately pretty rewarding.

…

Though I’ll still be much happier when I can hang upside down from a pole in just my underwear surrounded by badass women again.

Not having to get dressed up is a mixed blessing

Clothing and appearance and dressing up has always been a bit of a minefield for me. As a queer femme, I love all things fancy and glittery and just that little bit extra. However, the combination of not having a body shape that mainstream fashion really understands, coupled with eclectic tastes and being basically perpetually broke until I was 26, means that shopping for clothes has always been… complex, at best.

Honestly, not having to think so much about what I’m going to wear every day has been freeing. I have pretty much worked in some combination of pyjamas, yoga pants, and oversized t-shirts every day since March, and I’m not sorry. Being able to prioritise comfort over dressing “acceptably” has been a blessing during an incredibly stressful time.

On the other hand, not having any real opportunity to get dressed up and sparkle has made me realise how much I miss it. Sure, I could don glitter at home, but it’s not worth the effort if it’s for no occasion. I’ve thought about wearing the catsuit on a Zoom call, but it just doesn’t feel joyful in the same way when it’s just me, my home office, and a grainy camera. I could put on a tight skirt, but where’s the fun if I can’t flirt with a stranger?

I like valuing my body and physicality as far more than a decoration… but sometimes I want to be fucking decorative, damnit! I’ve been kinda dealing with this by playing with nudes and taking more lingerie selfies.

One of the little but powerful self-care rituals I’ve cultivated in lockdown has been to start dying my hair again. For the last several years in jobs in which any non-natural colour was considered “unprofessional,” I’d often look in the mirror and long for my luscious purple locks of old. When I finally did it again, watching the gorgeous, vibrant colour emerge in all its glory as I blow-dried my hair, I felt like me again.

We have to find small joys and small ways to love ourselves in these times. It just happens that one of my small joys lives in a bottle of violet hair dye. I might not love my shape or my fitness level right now, but at least I can love this one little thing.

What I’m trying to say is… it’s complicated

It’s complicated and it’s many-faceted and it’s a work in progress. I have mostly come to terms, at this point, with the idea that it’s probably always going to be kind of complicated, and it’s always going to be a work in progress.

I can’t wake up one morning like “wahey, I love my body now!” If only it were that simple. Instead, it’s more likely to be a lifetime of steps forward and slips back, of progress and challenges, of days where it feels easy and days where it feels hard.

If lockdown taught me one thing about body image, it’s that body image isn’t static and it isn’t a one way journey.

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