Clementine Ford: How a vibrator changed my life
When I was in my late teens, I bought my first vibrator.
It was a fairly simple contraption. A little purple bullet vibe that I found in one of the X rated shops dotted along Adelaide’s Hindley St. Although the details are patchy (it was so long ago!) I probably went in with some university friends, a gaggle of us giggling as we stared around in awe at walls of giant rubber dildos and videos with titles that seem tame by today’s standards.
At that point in my life, I hadn’t done more than kiss someone else; the thought of going all out on a bells-and-whistles dong on my first foray into toys was a little overwhelming. The bullet was discreet and unassuming, while still being a thrilling kind of purchase.
And gosh, was it thrilling!
Although I’d discovered masturbation at a much younger age, the addition of toys was a game changer. I couldn’t believe something so small could be so POWERFUL, which is wild when you think I’d been in possession of one of the most powerful tiny things for my whole life. I still lived with my parents at this point, and I was terrified they’d find the bullet lying around somewhere. Every day, I tucked it into the back corner of my drawer. Secret. Safe.
I didn’t get another toy until a year or so after I’d left home. I was living in share housing by then, and started sleeping with my very first boyfriend. I thought myself in love with him at the time, but I realise now that what I was actually falling for was the freedom of adulthood. Wild stories, nights spent drinking cheap wine and solving the problems of the world, staying out until all hours and feeling like life was finally beginning. Sex was a small but important part of this, and i was endlessly grateful for having been finally initiated into the secret society of people who had Done It.
My friend Mel (a worldlier and more experienced woman than me) saw a competition in a magazine asking readers to send in their most embarrassing sex story to win a voucher for a sex toy company whose name I genuinely can’t remember. The realisation that I could enter – that I actually had a story – was exciting beyond words. I sent something in, embellishing the best parts and leaving out the more boring bits, and promptly forgot about it. Imagine my surprise when Mel and I both won!
We are so cool and grown up, I thought.
We pored over the options available to us. As students, it was important we increase our bang for buck. Quantity over quality, a swag bag of tools we could show off to anyone even vaguely interested, the days of hiding things in the back of drawer long behind me. We were at UNIVERSITY, for goodness sake. We had no time for those silly hang ups about sex! Which is why I kept the bright blue, translucent silicone dildo casually next to my bed as evidence of how cutting edge and casual I was about these things.
Two decades have passed since then. And while I’m still very casual about discussing sex toys (and definitely open about posing with them), these days they’re kept in a box underneath my bed. Every so often, someone will message me on Instagram or Facebook and ask for a recommendation. Some of them have never bought a toy before, always feeling too embarrassed or exposed somehow. Giving ourselves sexual pleasure is one of our most fundamental expressions as human beings, and it makes me sad and angry to know that the conservative project of shame around sex is still proving so successful. Traditional patriarchal ideas around sex (and people with a vaginas and a clitoris in particular) still insist that ‘real’ sex is defined by penis-in-vagina, and that orgasms achieved outside of this are either cheating or pitiful in some way. I mean, it’s interesting that one of the first things trolls and critics like to sneer at me is the fact I promote “dildos” – as if claiming control of your own sexual pleasure outside of men gifting it to you is pathetic.
Giving yourself orgasms is an essential skill. It makes for better sex with partners, the most worthy of whom will see sex toys as their teammates and not their competition. Remember, cis women who sleep with cis men report having orgasms only 65% of the time (compared to 95% of cis men). Know how many times I orgasm with my Womanizer Duo or my Wild Secrets Glow Wand? 100% of the time, three or four times each. Sorry fellas, you can’t compete!
We have such a finite amount of time on this earth, and only one body to experience it all in – why would you wait for someone else to tell you what good things your body can feel, instead of making yourself the expert in how to feel all those things? Trust me, you won’t look back!
