Quick little update

Can’t get into too much detail right now but I’ve had quite some milestones in the last year or so…

For starters, here is an article I was featured in by PBS regarding my contributions to gender-affirming care.

Here is the updated resource guide for gender-affirming providers, please distribute and use as you wish.

And here is a quick Instagram post of me coming out of my social media break to say hello, I’m doing great, and lots of new prospects are on the horizon both professionally and personally.

That being said, given how blurry professional and personal lines get when doing the work I do in the communities I am a part of and, well, for as long as I’ve been in the field, please remember that I have to maintain these boundaries out of ethical responsibility. I cannot advertise here my new endeavors nor would I wish to, but I also am aware of how highly visible and accessible my information is in the world. If you happen to find my personal contact info from searching, please use your discretion as to whether it is appropriate to use that channel to reach me. Otherwise, just do a bit more searching and maybe you’ll find a better method to get in touch.

Be well, choose love, and never stop fighting,

Avery

PS: A little edit…I got the all-clear to disclose where I’m working now and my email. I am a full-time therapist for the LGBTQ+ community at CogniCare Psychological Services and can be reached at aheimann@cognicarepsych.com for inquiries about that.

Rough Draft

So I like, wrote an op-ed. And I’m gonna be like, interviewed for something else. And there’s been a lot of developments and awards and events over the last year, I don’t really want to do an update. But it was suggested to me to copypasta the rough draft of what I had written for that op-ed article because so much of my voice is in it and it’s all messy and rambly and has its own timbre within the composure so fuck it. Here goes:

The discussions around gender-affirming healthcare as it pertains to Pride, human rights, policy, and empathy have been increasingly polarizing.  This narrative, however, does not need to be an either/or, but rather a both/and.  Political developments and barriers around gender-affirming healthcare are horrifying, to say the least.  They entail a landscape of doom and gloom.  They illustrate how personal intolerance and bigotry can be both overtly and insidiously invested into actions that actively harm our communities on all ends of the spectrum.  AND we still have the capacity to love, to understand, and to celebrate our differences as part of what makes our world brighter, more colorful, and more uplifting.  In my 15 years of advocacy for the LGBTQ+ community and its individuals, whether through education, mental health, or healthcare, I have learned the many ways in which mutual support grows from ongoing interpersonal connections and broader recognition of the historical efforts to fight for the safety and well-being of our people.  “Fight” is the operative word here for sure, as it is a struggle, a push, and a movement.  

When I teach people about the LGBTQ+ acronym, I am often asked why the “T” is included in an otherwise sexual orientation-related assortment of letters when it stands for a gender identity.  The explanation is both simple AND complex: it is the T, the transgender piece of that umbrella that has been fundamental in the fight for LGBTQ+ rights, yet simultaneously the letter representing a community that is constantly rendered less visible, less accepted, and more of a subject for debate rather than an acknowledgement of transgender humanity.  Transgender people are not a concept, or a philosophy, or a debate.  We are people who deserve basic dignity and respect just like anyone else.  People who deserve not just to survive in a world seemingly so hellbent on making survival impossible, we are people who deserve to thrive.  You might think that survival is a basic need, but there is a reason both of the following expressions circulate with equal fervor during the month of June: “Love is love,” and “Pride started as a riot.”  Love and anger are not mutually exclusive, and as the great lesbian poet Audre Lorde once said regarding anger, “Focused with precision it can become a powerful source of energy serving progress and change… Anger is a source of empowerment we must not fear to tap for energy rather than guilt.”  

Gender-affirming healthcare would never have been a reality if not for the efforts from Black and Brown transgender individuals over fifty years ago.  With figures like Stormé DeLarverie helping set the 1969 Stonewall Riots in motion in New York City, Marsha P. Johnson and Sylvia Rivera forming Street Transvestite Action Revolutionaries to care for unhoused transgender youth, sex workers, and formerly incarcerated people, and Miss Major Griffin-Gracy’s creation of the Transgender Gender-Variant & Intersex Justice Project in San Francisco, we must honor and respect the shoulders who lifted up the possibility for gender-affirming healthcare to exist at all.  The very first Pride itself was a celebration of the one-year anniversary of Stonewall and everything it set forth to protect the LGBTQ+ community.

Just like the narrative around LGBTQ+ rights and Pride as a “both/and,” gender-affirming healthcare addresses both a patient’s mind AND body as it relates to their overall sense of wellness.  Broadly defined, gender-affirming healthcare is healthcare, period.  For the purposes of what type of healthcare can be provided for trans and gender diverse patients, it includes things like STI testing, cancer screenings, hormone therapy, regular lab testing, surgical procedures, and linking people with additional services like mental health, just to name a few.  Gender-affirming care is all-encompassing and holistic: it takes into account the obstacles many trans and gender diverse folks have had to face or are currently facing to access medical means to help them feel more affirmed in their identity.  

To be clear, these obstacles are fueled by hatred on both personal and political levels of federal, state, and local policies.  In 2023 alone, a record-breaking 543 and counting anti-transgender bills have been introduced in 49 states preventing and prohibiting gender-affirming care of all kinds.  To put this in perspective of the magnitude regarding anti-transgender policy expansions, 2023’s anti-transgender legislation almost doubles the combined bills introduced in 2020, 2021, and 2022.  These bills attack everything from transgender youth’s access to safe bathrooms in schools to gender-affirming medical professionals being charged with a felony for providing hormonal treatment to mitigate the distressing and dangerous symptoms of gender dysphoria.  Most recently, as of May 17th, Florida governor Ron DeSantis signed into law the ability for the state to forcibly remove children from the custody of their families if they are receiving any form of gender-affirming care.  The most daunting task of writing this article is knowing that by the time it is published, these policies will increase in both quantity and severity with consequences of incomprehensible harm to the community.

Audre Lorde also once said “Your silence will not protect you.”  Anger and love are both kinetic energies that amplify our abilities to break through silence, whether that is having tender discussions with our families about what we can do to help, writing to our local legislators about what they can do to help, speaking up at work meetings, cheering on drag queens at brunch, or singing in joy at Pride parades.  It is that liminal space of silence that breeds fear, stagnation, helplessness, confusion, and loss.  Love, anger, understanding, and support are just some of the antidotes we can use in our own ways.  What will you do to keep the momentum going?  What are your intentions to break through this silence, no matter how big or small you feel they might be?

Sources:

Broady, K. E. & Romer, C. (2022, March 9). The black and Brown activists who started Pride. Brookings. https://www.brookings.edu/blog/the-avenue/2021/06/29/the-black-and-brown-activists-who-started-pride/

2023 Anti-Trans Bills: Trans legislation tracker. 2023 Anti-Trans Bills: Trans Legislation Tracker. (n.d.). https://translegislation.com/

Lorde, Audre. Sister Outsider: Essays & Speeches by Audre Lorde (Berkeley: Crossing Press, 2007).

Review of Lovense Ferri featuring special guest review of 3 Tenga Products

It’s time.  I don’t know how to begin, where, why, etc.  I just know it’s time.  I’ve had at least a dozen shower thoughts over the last few months on how this post would begin, reminding me of rehearsing a script before a therapy session, whether that’s me as the therapist or me as the client.  Yup.  I’ve been a part-time therapist for LGBTQ+ clients at CogniCare over the last 6 months.  Yup.  The practice I’d refer patients to back when I worked at PROUD.  “When I worked at PROUD.”  Wow, that feels really different typing out versus just briefly glossing over it in conversation.  I left my PROUD family to begin a new chapter of my life as a full-time Patient Navigator for Gender Affirming Services at Planned Parenthood Metropolitan NJ.  A position I had ached for so badly while at PROUD, wanting to work by Danielle’s side and be a part of all the change and love she spread throughout the community.  A position I now have because of my fellow board member from Masakhane and brilliant sex educator at PPMNJ, Bethany.  

It’s happening again.  Full-time navigation, part-time therapy, coalition meetings, sex toy workshops, new romances, meaningful tattoos.  It’s all overlapping.  And I can keep putting off this post because I am at the tip of the “overlap iceberg” in my own self-discoveries or I can just, you know, fucking write and see what happens.  Which will, as it usually does when I get momentum going, get super long-winded and then suddenly stop because I’m in the process of doing the very overlapping things I am trying to capture on the keyboard.  I’ve been playing a lot of keyboard, speaking of which.  Something about it infuriates me like a good challenge, from the intention tremors in my hands to what feels like an increasingly foggy memory…the daily mini crossword on the toilet isn’t really stimulating my synapses anymore.  I guess terrible videogame covers are it right now.  

My attention span has been shot, too, which I need to give myself a little more grace with.  I’m finally doing all the things I said I wanted to do in two careers, writing letters of support, helping with grants, training affiliate-wide staff, attending nationwide meetings, compiling resources, connecting with trans providers in New Jersey and across the country, meeting all new patients in my OWN FUCKING OFFICE, WAIT WHAT?!  No seriously, it was a week in and I already had an office with a standing desk that I’m turning into an art gallery for various queer and trans artists, including little labels under each piece to promote their work.  It’s so reciprocal, but reciprocal doesn’t quite describe the energy in my life right now…it feels beyond transaction, no quid pro quo, no sense of competing for seats at the table.  That whole spiel people give about how everyone has their own skills and can shine because of their unique lived experiences?  It exists.  It exists here.  At my job.  In my life.  I feel like throwing up, my cheeks are hot, and I feel like I’m going to cry.  

Every damn day I have to wrap my brain around something new and amazing I thought I’d never experience, something I thought I never deserved.  But here I am, experiencing it and deserving it.  For as inundated as I was with the word over the last three years of my life, and for how bittersweet that path was, I feel so wholesomely and compassionately “proud” of myself.  No wait…yup.  I AM going to cry.  The world has held me lately.  It’s simultaneously terrifying and cruel and nourishing and warm.  The cognitive dissonance of the thrill in spreading my Mothra wings to soar and remembering that everything is still on fire is dizzying.  And it’s like I said to my therapist, my supervisor, my loving friends, partners, colleagues, former colleagues, and family.  I’m thriving in my existence right now, and I don’t think that needs to be indulgent in a way that’s bound to values or binaristic morality.  I think that growing into my queer joy has transformative potential too.  I know it does, let me stop with that iffy “thinking” crap.  I know it does.  

Mothra Larvae toy in Miyazaki Cat Bus style
Seriously though, a Motrha/Miyazaki mashup was too good not to include somewhere in this post.

People reach out to me, saying they’re living through me right now, the vicarious pleasure they’re feeling from seeing me at peace and starting each new day with the same jaw-dropped awe as though I’m unboxing a new vibrator.  I feel reborn.  Free, self-directed, and goddamnit I feel sexy as hell lately.  Like, so sexy.  SO confident.  I just put my chin in my hands for a moment to feel the heat of my cheeks and bask in the fact that I made my own damn self blush.  

Avery selfie
Click the pic for bonus pit hair action!

One change I already felt within myself over the past few years is how I’ve deepened my commitments to sustaining relationships with people and forging new ones.  I used to have this tired line I’d give people when we parted ways about how, realistically, I was unlikely to keep in touch because I was “terrible” at doing it.  That’s not me anymore.  I don’t know if it ever was.  Maybe I was just scared.  But I’ve kept in touch with people from all parts of my life lately, even people I had hurt over 15 years ago and thought would never want to speak with me again.  I’ve said it before in previous posts: people CAN change.  And they can’t.  I’m pretty sure I used those exact words.  Either way, Aries season is about to rain fire and I’m charging full speed ahead while hooking my horns around everyone close to me.  Yes you, you’re coming too, if you want.  

Tweet about LiveJournal friends

And I’ve also left some people behind.  And that’s okay too.  Not everyone wants to come for the ride.  Not everyone gets to.  AND I’m dating someone new, with that being said.  Someone who has given me an entirely new appreciation for radical vulnerability, for cracking open my mind, for showing me that being a dad who loves with their whole heart is celestially beautiful beyond anything I could ever imagine.  That whole vicarious joy I talked about before?  I have the cheesiest smile on my face right now just thinking about how much he adores his babies.  

It makes me feel so appreciative of my own father, having a person like that in my life who loves people unconditionally, weirdness, warts, and all.  You’d think I wouldn’t mash up family and sex toys.  But you’d be wrong.  And if you knew me, like really knew me down to the pith, you’d know why my brain skipped no beats transitioning from talking about good parenting to talking about sex toys.  Vibrators to stimulate tomato pollination.  Explaining a Game of Thrones reference regarding a dildo.  I’m weird, and the apple never fell far from the tree.  Circles of sexuality, all that.  It’s my throughline, my root.  So let’s talk.

Gif of dropping the magnetic disc near the Ferri and it snapping to the toy immediately
Fucking magnets, how do they work?!

I’ve acquired quite the collection of new toys over the last year and yet somehow I keep finding myself going back to all the oldies and reassigning new meanings to them.  It’s not surprising, as this has been something I do whenever I’m embarking on a new life chapter and reinventing my relationship with things, rituals, ideas I’ve once associated with people or circumstances I wish to move past.  After my breakup with Mike, it was really difficult getting back into toys again until I was able to reclaim them.  It’s similar to a good song, meal, or movie I feel deeply connected to and need to remind myself that they represent facets of me, a fragmented kaleidoscope of self-reflection that can be pointed in any which way and still retain a function and significance intrinsic to my own unique being.  

My Lovense Ferri is one example, which I initially purchased to be used in public situations like arcade nights at 8 On the Break or other nerdy social activities.  I loved the technology of the Ferri, the fact I could have more than one person logged in at a time to take control of it, a sense of silliness and camaraderie when friends would plug in the rhythm of the Terminator theme song while I’d be playing the pinball game (and inevitably losing due to the distraction and/or my lack of skill).  I loved using it on my housemate, that deviousness of knowing I could watch her from across a room and see her squirm with an eyeroll or sassy smile on her face.  But the Ferri, while about pleasure and fun, was never really intended for orgasms.  I liked the psychological torture of it, the connections and memories it made, but it was a novelty thing.  And then a new partner entered my life this winter, one who lives all the way out in Washington state.  The Ferri wasn’t about novelty anymore.  Psychological torture sure, but unadulterated lust this time.  

A fiery Leo who matches my erotic and reckless Aries energy, dancing circles around my sexual rhythm, a partner who knows at any moment what my breath rate means or even the sexual subtext of a seemingly innocent “How are you?”  When I told Kenny about the Ferri, it was game over, man.  I knew that if nothing else, the way he holds my mind like he would hold my body is enough to make me feel so linked into him that I was undoubtedly going to orgasm from this thing.  And the mind is a powerful thing.  Then again, so are the Ferri vibrations.  So lo and behold, I have had several orgasms at the touch of Kenny’s fingertips using this device.  

Witnessing him learn so eagerly how to manipulate its modes, coming up with new patterns, giggling with glee when I forget it’s clipped to my underwear and he suddenly gives me a gasp-inducing jolt…it’s so affirming and sexy.  I’ll never forget the vision of him on camera, his phone just within eyeshot with the app open, watching his hand reach to change the speed and me whimpering in anticipation only for him to jerk his hand away without touching a thing.  Visual, audio, and tactile edging at its absolute fucking finest.  

Ferri laying on its side

Specs-wise, the Ferri is about the size and almost the width of my thumb, with a slight taper and curve upwards as it progresses away from the ridged tip.  Like I always say with toys, there’s no one single way to use this thing, just keep it out of your butt since there’s no flared base.  Flip it any which way you want.  Use the app or don’t, since you can control the vibrations by just pushing the button.  Even with bottom growth, it still fits neatly between my outer labia and stays put, the shape of it tucking into me but not so bulky that I can’t sit with it.  It’s comfortable whether turned on or off (pun intended), and the vibrations are so strong that they reverberate consistently throughout the device.  

The magnet adheres with so much force I either need to get my thumbnail underneath the black disc to pry it off or just slide it using the texture of the printed “Lovense” on its silky smooth silicone to push it away from the toy.  It comes with a replacement magnet, but I anticipate this isn’t because the magnetism is going to weaken, rather, if you drop it anywhere near something remotely magnetic, like behind a radiator or down a vent, that thing is gone and stuck to whatever it touches.  The silicone has zero drag and is easy to clean, plus it’s waterproof with a magnetic charger which plugs into any USB port.  It holds a charge really well; Kenny can edge me for over an hour and it showed no signs of dying at all.  And finally, maybe most importantly for some people, it is oh so quiet.  But that could also be my deliciously thick thighs insulating the noise, and if you’re sitting on something hard like a plastic stool, it’s probably going to transmit sound down both your and the stool’s legs.  

Back of the Ferri pointing upwards to show ridges

I’ve talked to so many people who use or want to use Lovense products.  I was in the middle of teaching a toy workshop last month when an attendee talked about their partner’s experience with the Max 2.  And as always when I learn and share experiences about toys, listening to them review it and show how its mechanisms worked was a glittering moment of bliss for me, as it’s definitely something Kenny and I want to try in the future.  

One of Kenny’s many green flags (like, SO many, holy heck), is how authentically sex positive he is.  One of our first conversations in Discord with our friends was focused on his love of the Tenga Flip Zero.  So naturally for Valentine’s Day I bought him a bunch of other Tenga products including the Spinner, the 3D, and two bottles of lube.  He commissioned a portrait of us from our best friend in “selfie mode” because we won’t be able to take one together until the summer.  I’m shaking my head smiling at our love languages as I write this.  It was easily the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me on a Valentine’s Day.  And I sent him fuck sleeves.

NEVERTHELESS: the Tengas have gotten a lot of use, to which Kenny agreed to write a guest spot in this blog post and I’m not editing a single thing in it… take it away, lover!


I’ve been tasked with writing a blurb about my sex toys, and I’m just excited I can be a part of this blog!  Me?! Hell yeah!  I have been given a lot of power being told “I’m not changing anything you write.”  So now I have a huge urge to just write stupid stuff and make Avery roll their eyes, but I’ll contain myself. I had a few prompts I tried answering like bullet points, but I think it’d be best if I just talked about them all since my thoughts started to all blend together anyways.  

     I started using toys shortly after I had a break up and decided it was time to start the sexual healing process, and explore my interests because I do what I want and I wanted to “treat yo’self”.  I made my own for a while which was cool and all but it got old, so I looked up penis sleeves and eventually decided to go to a local sex shop to see some in person.  I ended up walking out with 3 Svakom Hedys, the blue, pink, and white egg.  

Svakom Hedy trio

These were great for jumping into the sex toy world.  They were affordable and safe to try.  A summary and experience of the 3 would be

Blue – from what I can understand blue is supposed to feel like a mouth and it wasn’t very good for me, didn’t offer much in feeling besides an equal pressure all around.  What’s a mouth texture without suction????

White – I didn’t like this one much at first, but eventually I started to use a light pressure on it and I figured how to make it shine.   The tiny ridges really make for fun changes during sessions.

Pink – it has like…5 main ridges, they’re solid and pretty firm which was nice for me.  The best way I can describe it is that it was like entering someone 5 times and then exiting 5 times in a row which I’m all for. 

   With these they’re all easy to clean.  Just wash immediately use a mild soap or toy cleaner and pat dry with a clean towel or paper towel.  They’re supposed to be single use, but I used mine until they started to show signs of wear.  I got rid of the blue one pretty quick, but the pink and white I kept for a couple months, rotated uses.  I’m not a daily ‘bater so YMMV.

  Eventually I was ready to upgrade to something more serious.  I got the Tenga Flip 0 for black friday I think, and for V-day i got a wonderful gift of a Tenga spinner and a Tenga 3D polygon. So on to those

Tenga Flip Zero

Flip 0 – fanciest one I’ve tried and probably my favorite.  It opens up fully so it can clean easy and has easy prep for use.  It has….3 zones?  First is a soft ball with texture the I feel is supposed to simulate a tongue, and on the other side has more intense ridging that kind of…flicks?  That’s the best was I can describe it.  I don’t know maybe you can see in the picture but it’s cool you can rotate it around for different intensities and feels how you want it.  The 2nd zone is the same knobs all around nothing really more to say about it.  3rd zone is a weird hooded ball that is fun to get into but I don’t think you can enter the hood but it’s fun to get up in there.   My favorite part is you can push out all the air and make a vacuum in it for suction.  You can control the strength of it and overall it’s an experience when you get used to all you can do with it.   It’s great for intense heavy sessions and also more gentle love making times. 

Tenga Spinner Shell

Tenga spinner Shell- this one was a treat.  It’s intense, knobby, tight, and suctiony. 

The plastic spring in it sure twists it.   It has so much texture and all the air gets pushed out as you enter, I think it has more of a vacuum that the Flip, and harder to get off than the Flip but in a good way.

3D polygon – I didn’t like this one at first.  I couldn’t feel the texture, the firmness was different, material felt different, it just wasn’t what I was used to.  Gave it a couple more tries and now I like it a good amount, and I can feel the grooves.  It isn’t intense so I like to use it when the mood matches that.  Nothing fancy about it, no bells or whistles, but in the end, I find it something I’ll use in my rotation often enough.

Tenga 3D Polygon

     I talked about it briefly but the Flip is the easiest to clean IMO, while the hedys and 3D are equal difficulty (just turn them inside-out), with the spinner being the hardest just for the fact you can’t to my knowledge turn it inside-out.  A bit of warning with the 3D is that it can launch whatever is inside it when you invert it so be careful of cannoning your lube, cum combo all over your backsplash.  For cleaning though I just use dish soap, any gentle soap would work too, or just by toy cleaner since I’m sure it’s really the best for them.  All the fancy toys each came with their own drying stands but I just leave it in my dish rack…. where babysitters and ex’s can accidentally see it and makes for funny stories to friends.  Eventually I put them somewhere safe once they’re fully dry.

     I missed a few prompts that I think would be good to go over, one is lubing.  They’re all easy-peasy to get ready, just put some lube down the hold and a little bit on the entrance and you’re good to go.  The hard part is figuring out how much is enough.  Too much and you’re leaking everywhere and making a mess, too little and you can feel friction heat and that’ll cause your toy to degrade faster.  After some questioning I recommend using just water based lubricants, I have a couple different viscosities from some random brand on amazon to “slippery stuff” and one with menthol in it.  I complain about this often but I do wish Tenga would rename their brand lube.  Hole Lotion is a cursed name.

     Another prompt that felt oddly specific to me was a bout Lovense products.  I’ve talked with Avery about their app-controlled toys several times and for ones I’d try…to be honest I’d try them all probably, but the only one I can see myself putting money towards is the Max 2.  I think the ability for one’s partner to control it is what sounds the most exciting.  I don’t feel there’s many choices for sleeves that are able to be controlled by someone else, and with how online and long-distance dating isn’t uncommon at all anymore especially after Covid, I feel that this market should get some more effort in it.

     For my final thoughts/summary if you’re interested in masturbation sleeves at all, just go try one!  The “Disposables” are like $6-$9 and last longer than they recommend for the most part.  Some people do just wear them out in a session and I’m intimidated by that.  I’m going to go with a personal thought here and use gendered terms since I only know experience as a CisHet.  I always felt there was a stigma for guys owning fleshlights and other sex toys, as if it’s like… a degenerate thing to do, have, or use.  I think it came from how jokes were delivered when it was something that was talked about.  In the end I realized that is silly, and I deserve quality, quality time to myself and there is nothing wrong with using an aid for it.  If you are self-conscious or have doubts, I want to encourage you to do what I’ve been doing that past year and “let go for dear life” and treat yo’self.  You deserve it! You are amazing!  Take care of them and they’ll take care of you.  Also I love you Avery, and I can’t wait to spend time with you later! <3


Thanks babe! Okay, so piggybacking off of Kenny’s thoughts on Lovense sleeves, there are two which initially piqued our interest: the Max 2 and Calor.  Some of Lovense’s products even pair up, meaning they provide haptic feedback (just a fancy term for vibrating responses to touch, but I’ll roll with it) when people are using each of their toys at the same time.  I was talking about this with a friend of mine who wants to try this with her boyfriend when we both paused to consider how, especially during the isolation of the pandemic and so many other barriers, Lovense’s products are literal lifesavers.  

Growing up in an era where cybersex in AOL chat rooms and 900 hotlines were the closest thing to sexual interaction via tech, the fact that someone can use their kegels and somewhere across the world another person feels their sleeve contract is incomprehensibly wonderful.  It says loads for sex work, disability, long-distance relationships, kink, and so much more.  Kenny and I are vacationing to California in August to meet for the first time in person, and I am absolutely bringing the Ferri.  There are just too many possibilities not to bring it.  And even though I’d probably never do it, we could be in two entirely separate airplane bathrooms mid-air and the Ferri would still work with Wi-fi.  That is just beyond.  Life right now is just beyond.  

Gif of Screencapped Instagram Story

So I guess I’ll close this whopper of a post, if you’ve even gotten this far, by reminding you that Aries season (linking to a Google search result because I typed in “Aries,” “Mothra,” and “meme” and my new tattoo comes up, what is life even) is rapidly approaching.  As is my birthday, March 31st, the same day as the International Transgender Day of Visibility.  My birthdays these past few years, whether because of the pandemic or just me getting crotchety in my older age, are not of much importance anymore.  The International Transgender Day of Visibility is.  So if you want, consider donating some money to a transgender organization.  Buy your trans buddies a burger.  Put your pronouns in your email signature.  Whatever.  But do something.  Fire can sustain and destroy, and while I love everything Aries-related, I also can’t ignore the amount of damage being done to other trans folx around me.  Especially the kiddos.  Visibility is vulnerability, and trans youth are more vulnerable than ever these days.  We don’t have to be parents to care about theybies, so let’s take care of them in any way we can.  Deal?  Deal.

A Double Review! Products by TheCottageCoreWhore and EroGeisha

Alright so we are fully mercury in retrograde and I’m in an all-or-nothing/catastrophizing headspace, so it’s entirely likely I might lose this post into the ether of technology or just get so mad at the keys for every typo I make until I begin screaming at the top of my lungs.  Today was a stressful day.  It was expected to be; Pride month has started and we’re in the middle of a major IT overhaul at the hospital, but just like when everything in my life overlaps in terms of what I do and who I am, it can overlap in some really shitty ways too.  Like, the work situation is extremely frustrating in terms of my learning disability and my desire to finally grow into the roles I am clearly qualified and passionate about…but that’s a conversation for my therapist.   

I guess I’ll start this post with a brief update, maybe throw in a thematic review or something, whatever.  That’s the flow I have pictured in my mind as I’ve been clinging so hard to structure over the last few years and I fear I might have squeezed it to death.  I graduated with my MSW in May, academic honors, an award for Service to Community Recognition for Rutgers’s Center for Social Justice and LGBT Education Rainbow Graduation, lots of certificates to frame and hang, possible teaching opportunities in the next few semesters thanks to my amazing mentors at Rutgers…I’m also like 99% sure my picture is going to be featured on Somerville’s little walkway billboard thing for Pride as a resident of the town and hospital employee yadda yadda…our class speaker, Marleina Ubel, named me and highlighted my commitments during her speech in the entire graduation ceremony, I’m on my own trading card, people are reaching out left and right to consult with me for several projects.   

I lost my shit when Marleina said my name.

There’s been so much affirming, validating energy in my life over the last few months reminding me that I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be in my trajectory.  The pace at which I lived my life over the last two years was so full and so rigid that although I was in Stress City, I could rely and lean back on knowing that there were distinct time frames to which I could dedicate my work and specific time frames when I knew I needed to take off that hat (even though I still find that transition damn near impossible).  Pretty much every area of my life is informed and informing my work, whether that’s just hanging around town outside Retro Classics while engaging in random conversations about LGBTQ+ opportunities and causes, playing Overwatch with my queer online community, checking in with fellow bloggers, watching movies with classmates, shit, even talking with my therapist still directly links to career brain.   

Avery's Garden
There are going to be SO MANY BEETS this year.

For a month so saturated with Rainbow Capitalism, a time when I usually enjoy blasting the shit out of marketing and media for inundating people with performativity, I feel like I’ve already hit my limit in terms of queer discourse.  I know it’s inextricable: the closest thing I have to self-care is digging into the dirt of my garden and even that feels like queer culture sometimes…but I just, I just don’t know how this all fits together right now.  And I know maybe it’s supposed to be messy, but I’m still riding the momentum of this degree and my certification in Child and Adolescent Well-Being with a concentration in LGBTQ+ Advocacy, thinking “Okay, what now,” chomping at the bit for any morsel of direction or promise.  And I still have to study for the damn LSW exam by the end of June which again, overlaps in a not-so-comforting way.   

I’m struggling at work with the new system because of my dyscalculia, and I’ve failed all my practice exams for the very same reason.  I struggle with taking tests.  Not necessarily the hints, strategies, key words, mnemonics, or acronyms, but simply the format of multiple choice.  I’ve gone from writing 25 page single-spaced strategic plans on opening a hypothetical pleasure-focused resource center by and for the Asbury Park community to now facing a 4-hour exam which determines the next major steps of my life.   

My “elevator pitch” from my Program and Strategic Planning class…a dream I’ve had for over a decade.

So I guess for just right now, focusing on the present, I was faced with some options as I got out of work this afternoon and almost began hyperventilating.  I could either fumble around for something to do, riding out my caffeine binge and likely cleaning frantically or getting salty in videogames, I could study for the LSW exam, or I could write.  I’m still in the mentality of needing to create something, and I figured conjuring up some semblance of a blog post could scratch that kinetic itch in a way that disrupts my feelings of inadequacy on the work front.   

TL;DR… Life has been great and super gay, but the transition post-graduation has been really rough on how I determine where I spend my time and energy. 

I’ve gotten SO many new toys since my last blog post; I wouldn’t even know where to begin.  I got a Jollet Thrust, a Number One Laboratory Amethyst Geode, a Lovense Ferri, a Blush Nocturnal that blows the old We-Vibe Tango out of the water, a Crystal Delights plug, a  Lovehoney Galaxy Super Soft Silicone Dildo…just so much good stuff.  But for today I wanted to bring up a couple of custom pieces I recently got.  Customs mean many things to me in terms of feeling connected to makers, feeling validated when I get a product that comes out exactly how I wanted it to (almost akin to the feeling of helping create my own tattoo design), and that overall collaborative effect when supporting crafters and how that ripples into a bigger picture of increasing visibility.  I’ve talked about customs before and what that process has been like, whether that’s a personal message from the artist checking in to update me with developments or even sending extra goodies in the package.   

Two major customs I’ve received in the last few months have come from TheCottageCoreWhore and EroGeisha.  Both reflect my geeky side, but also reflect a lot of the friendships I have made in the last year.  I’ve been seeing someone who runs a videogame store downtown…the one-year anniversary of my back surgery in June is also when we first officially started connecting as I watched his Twitch streams while recuperating in the Poconos with my parents.  Mind you, I had my eyes on this dude for years after seeing him at various cons, so when I moved to Somerville, I crushed even harder.  One thing led to another and not only did I end up becoming a part of his life, but became really close with a lot of his amazing friends.  Like there are no words for how amazing his friends are.  My friends are.  These people.  Whatever.  It’s just this lovely mix of humans from all different walks of life who bond over nerdy shit with traditions like Eight on the Break Tuesdays, fighting game Thursdays, and Monster Movie Sundays.  I never dreamed I’d be such a huge Godzilla (ahem Mothra is bae) fan, and I feel like I’ve learned so much from them.   

Cameron and Avery at the Silverball Museum in Asbury Park
We hella cute, ngl.

Two of Cameron’s (that’s his name) best friends joked with me that I should get a custom Pac-Man dildo made since it’s one of Cam’s favorite games, and I reached out to TheCottageCoreWhore on IG to see if it was possible.  Sure as shit, this thing came to fruition, and it sits atop Cam’s cabinet of Pac-Man memorabilia in a way that brings together both of our collector mentalities; it’s super fucking corny and adorable and I wouldn’t have it any other way.  Like I said, it’s been a year of abundance, and being with someone who never had previous exposure to sex toys and consistently provides feedback for me every time we use one is a joy of theory meeting practice in a really affirming way.   

TheCottageCoreWhore's Pac-Man Dildo in Cam's Pac-Man display case

Although it’s not my favorite dil, the Pac-Man custom proves, yet again like many of my pieces, that a toy doesn’t need to serve a certain prescriptive function in order to fulfill their value and purpose in my collection.  I have a ton of toys I don’t necessarily physically enjoy but still represent something precious to me…kind of a “pleasure of the text” situation in phallic form.  The Pac-Man is a custom 6 inch dildo, not really my ideal length or girth, and it has a scrotum that doesn’t really hold firmly enough to the shaft for me to use it as a grip when thrusting.  There’s no flared extension at the base even though I know there were options for it, so it’s just not the most easy-to-maneuver toy but also not completely cumbersome.   

TheCottageCoreWhore's Unicorn Dildo posting on the Instagram story

I love it nonetheless, as each character is suspended perfectly in clear silicone, even placed with the intentionality of having the ghosts chase Pac-Man up the shaft to the tip.  It’s comical, a conversation-starter, and done really well by a maker who was just starting their business at the time.  I feel tickled I was able to support them with my purchase and really glad that I can write about them here.  In addition to customs, TheCottageCoreWhore also puts out drops in their IG stories here and there, so if you’re following them you might see some products up for grabs at awesome discounted prices.  I got a really cool unicorn horn from them made up of extra silicone pours they had from previous projects.  A few colors had glitter and glow-in-the-dark elements, and I’ve always wanted a unicorn horn as many makers offer them.  So for forty bucks and a completely unique product…you just can’t beat it.   

The second custom fell into my lap by providence divine (okay it was actually a Twitter post), modeled after a Ramune bottle.  Anyone who knows me knows how much I love Ramune, whether my old college days where I created a wire wrap necklace with one of its marbles or my ongoing quest to find as many flavors as possible.  I had been eyeing EroGeisha’s products for a while, especially their Takoyaki tentacle-inspired dildo.  When I saw their post about the Ramune dildo, I knew what had to be done.   

This process was full of great surprises, from finding out that EroGeisha could actually implant a rattle inside the dildo to make it sound like an authentic bottle, the fact they could make it with rainbow tie-dye colors, the extra merch that came with the package, and the overall usability of it.  Let me tell you, that rattle is NO gimmick.  I remember always wanting a FunFactory Bouncer because of its novelty and great reviews but not really wanting to shell out that much money for something I was unsure if I’d like.  With the Ramune dildo, I figured that even if the rattle wasn’t for me, I’d at least have a really kitschy piece in my collection.   

But holy cats, that rattle RESONATES.  DEEPLY.  Like I can actually feel it clack against my G-spot during thrusts and it was such a delightful bonus.  Another element of this dildo which I never considered until actual use was how the firmness of the silicone and the texture would feel.  It’s not a G-spot dildo and yet it stimulates it with the ridges along where the cap would be.  The little lip separating the “cap” from the rest of the bottle feels amazing during initial entry and just generally sitting inside of me.  I still can’t wrap my brain around how one tiny rim of texture can make such an impact but I’m so cheesed that it does.   

And although the bottle doesn’t have a base, it doesn’t really require a lot of deep thrusts in order to feel full, so I can use the lower half of it for an easy grip.  The drag of the silicone surface also helps when I’m clenching onto it…Cam agreed it was notably easy for him to use on me even when I wriggle around.  And if you’ve read my blog before, you know how much I love those times when a toy affects me unexpectedly.  Whether that’s a squishy textured corncob or an unusually rounded pumpkin plug, that moment where I realize a toy offers so much more than I visually anticipated is a really grounding reminder to hold space for the variability of pleasure in whatever form it takes along time and space.   

So yeah, two great customs, unique in their own ways, wonderful additions to my collection, made by folx who clearly put a lot of thought and care into what they create.  June is going to be jam-packed with companies promoting rainbow products, some for really great causes and some just to cash in on the season…so if you’ve been overwhelmed by the heavy promotion or maybe even already own your fair share of LGBTQ+ inspired toys and are looking for something a little different, I absolutely recommend both TheCottageCoreWhore and EroGeisha.  If you’re still looking to get your hands on something Pride-themed, you can always check out this post for a presentation and YouTube clips about the companies I endorse (will never stop singing my praises for Blush, though 😉).  We’re in a weird time of colorful recursion, which is saying the least.  But we can still show up and be here for one another however we can in that moment.  For me, today’s moment was a blog post.  Tomorrow who knows.  Maybe I’ll finally get around to studying for the LSW. 

Also can we PLEASE stop using the word “crazy?”

Ideas for new blog posts: 

Reviewing the Number One Laboratory’s Amethyst Geode Silicone dildo and discuss the problems with companies like Chakrubs who sell “crystal” dildos sourced from areas they won’t disclose their relationships with, the overall unethical sales of crystal regarding mining labor, cultural appropriation, the fact that many times it’s just glass, the porosity, and the ridiculous upcharge.  But alas, I have yet to try the Number One Labs dil. 

Talking about my newest tattoo on my pubic bone of onion and garlic, what those foods have historically meant to me culture-wise, health-wise, and dysphoria-wise and how getting that tattoo was a way of reclaiming my body odor.  Talking about tattoos in general, how I stay away from cover-ups because I want to honor each tattoo for its respective time in my life no matter how ridiculous it seems now, also that I want to be accountable for these marks, allusions to SI scars and how every part of my body is a palimpsest of decisions. 

Talking about my experiences at S.L.A.M conferences and what it feels like to sit inside of performativity for as much as I wriggle to call it out, what it feels like to be among other white folx where conferences are centering BIPOC folx and how and when to be in that space.  How inevitably I will be bringing my shit in no matter my participation and it will always need examination before, during, after, and simultaneously I also need to be present in those moments to actually internalize (and compensate for) the work BIPOC individuals and communities are doing. 

Getting back to my punk roots, Ska Against Transphobia, DIY ethics, the battle vest, the importance of groundwork and sustained communication outside of social media, talking about SESTA/FOSTA, censorship, terms of (dis)service and how existing in a world before cellphones and internet as a young punk teen taught me the value of knowing the work is out there and the motivation to seek and promote it. 

I don’t know, y’all…the last semester of my (hopefully) final degree in Social Work is coming up, as are the overlapping themes, which tend to be the impetus for me to write, or sometimes they get so tangled into each other that I just want to spit at the screen.  I don’t give up.  I’ll never give up.  Productivity is white supremacy, my value and your value and OUR value isn’t determined by how much I create but fuck no I will never stop engaging in these discussions with a mindset that learning and loving is an eternal fire.  I guess I just wanted to plop these here as means to keep the embers burning.  For now.  And I know academia is a pyramid scheme, I am now understanding more and more that lots of people hide behind their values (myself included), and intentions don’t mean shit if the outcomes are dehumanized.  I’ll pause for now.  This just needed to exist somewhere. 

So about that last post…

This isn’t going to be so much a post as like, a two second update. I have no memory of making that last post. Memory is kind of eluding me these days. Time is blurring for everyone, shit is shitty for everyone. So that last post could have been referencing literally anything and it’s valid all the same. I’m still here. I think about putting up a review or two here and there…I think about just doing one of these rambly little blurbs maybe with an update maybe just to spill out my head. When it happens, it’ll happen. I’m still a blogger. I’m still an educator. I’m still me. Battling the imposter syndrome measurements of what it means to be productive in a world where there is little humanity in production. Words are obsolete, all pithy venting aside. I’m still here. I say that a lot when I post, because I do so infrequently. There are things to celebrate. Little victories, well-written papers, new relationships, good food, a shot at Cali sobriety. But we’ll just end this here. For now.

From Pink Bunny to Rainbow Buttplug: Sex Toys, LGBTQ+ Identity, and Queer Capitalism

(Links to the presentation featured in bold font below!)

So I’m sitting here in my newly air-conditioned bedroom looking out on the beautiful day, waiting for my Telehealth therapy session and following Teams Board Meeting for Masakhane, dirt between my toes from propping up freshly transplanted tomatoes after they endured last night’s storm. I tried hardening them as I grew them from seed, but I started with the mission that even if one tomato plant survived, I’d consider it a success. I’m sticking to that mentality regarding a lot of things right now.

The semester ended, weirdly of course. But it’s over. 3 professors suggested I apply for the doctorate program, which while flattering, I cannot afford financially or mentally. It’s time to dig into this career. I have the whole rest of my life to flirt with a PhD. Now is the time to focus on the abundance I already have.

So enough of updates. My back is my back. I finished out what ended up being a glob-awful LGBTQ+ Issues course with a highly problematic gay, white, cismale, older professor, and my classmates and I have forged a lovely trauma bond from the experience. Which happens all too often in my academic life, so I’m going to try to spring this collaboration up and out of the shitty pedagogy into some nurturing and sustainable connections.

The people have spoken!

For my MSW final project, I had the opportunity to re-present a redux of a workshop I botched at Widener’s CareersCon in 2016. I made a downloadable PowerPoint with notes, clickable links, and transcriptions, made a captioned YouTube presentation, and included a supplemental show-and-tell video to give a different experience to the content. Take your pick, there are options!

This presentation absolutely FLOPPED. Improvements have been made, I promise.

The board meeting with Masakhane starts in an hour and I just realized how cool it would be for us to host Sex Toy “Show-and-Tell” Zoom meetings: a space for us to show our faves, share what they mean, show how they function, do flame testing, ask questions give modular ideas, riff on the knowledge we have, etc. What do you think? Would you want something like that?

A Review, A Reflection, A Wish of Wellness

I outlined this blog post and honestly debated just leaving it as a messy outline the way I did in a previous post.  But I want to craft it a little.  I’ve been crafty lately.  DIY has always been a big part of my life, whether due to punk ethics, queer community, or disability survival.  When the pandemic hit, narratives exploded around these identities and more, and I knew I had to create a post.  It was just a matter of time and space.  Now and here we go. 

I write most of my posts when everything in life explicitly overlaps to the point where it feels like universes are collapsing into one another and everywhere I look is a sign to put my fingers on the keyboard.  Right now I am writing as the sun sets on my porch, reclined on my Liberator Chaise to ease my back still aching from the six epidurals I received three weeks ago.  I rushed these epidurals, paying out of pocket because my sciatic flare was so bad I could barely walk.  I knew COVID-19 was about to shut the world down, and I invested an entire paycheck knowing that most elective procedures were not going to be available soon.  What I put out of my head until my orthopedist firmly reminded me, is that the five extra shots given due to resistant scar tissue were five extra doses of immunosuppressing cortisone.  This is something I still continue to shove from my consciousness, as my concerns for loved ones have put my sense of self on the backburner.  My mother and father tested positive for COVID-19 over three weeks ago, and my mother has suffered greatly.  It was not until four days ago that her fever finally broke and she was able to breathe without coughing.  I’m not much for prayer, but I pretty much told everyone and anyone close to me with the hopes that we could all send a little bit of energy her way, and I think that might have done the trick.   

Epidurals and Bandaids on Avery's Back

I’m also working every day at PROUD now, answering the phones, helping patients figure out how to navigate telemedicine and listening to their worries and fears during this difficult time.  I’ve had horrible impostor syndrome as media latches on to the notion of “Frontline Heroes,” as I am not technically on a front line, nor do I feel like a hero.  I am here because I need to be.  I am here to support my community and I am here because I need the fucking money.  My coworker, a veteran, blew my mind when she said “How do you think vets feel when they get thanked for their service?  What if they’ve never been deployed?  What if they’ve never been in combat?”  Imposter syndrome, like comparison, is addictive.  I’ve been doing a lot of comparing lately, and in addition to the overlaps with compassion fatigue, it gets dark and suffocating a lot of the time. 

Thank you Doctors nurses and staff sign on someone's lawn
I pass this sign thanking hospital staff on my way home from work every day.

Everything is overlapping whether I like it or not.  The times when I was able to celebrate how interconnected my life is are now becoming very confusing, and I’m having difficulty pulling positivity from it.  I’m lying on the chaise, typing with bookcases in the background filled with literature on sexuality, disability, mental health, and theory.  The sun beats on my face and I smile with gratitude for the Vitamin D and Wellbutrin coursing through my veins, the bowl of medical marijuana awaiting ignition upon completion of this post.  Medical marijuana prescribed to me for back pain and PTSD.  As though those things were mutually exclusive.  As though any of this could ever be separated. 

Avery flippin the bird at work.
These wipes, known as “that good purple,” have been coveted by every part of the hospital. This is our last container.

But something clicked last night during the full moon.  I cleansed the pendulum given to me by my aunt and began a ritual of gratitude, hope, and awareness.  A ritual of existing in the present, moving and breathing with intentionality but also sensing that there is so much beyond my control.  I journaled, writing down thoughts and stopping at moments to realize that the thoughts were aligning with lyrics from Air’s Moon Safari.  I didn’t even register that the word “Moon” is in the album title.  I chose it for how it felt and what it has done for my life in terms of holding ritual, of making space.  I drank my tea in gulps of three, closing my circle with a tea reading that settled into an array of valerian resembling a jaw.  Stubbornness, tension, inability to let go, buckling down onto disintegration to the point of self-injury.  Caz suggested it could relate to my TMJ, which is equally true.  My SLAP tear has been unbearable lately as I chew my cheek with fluctuations of anxiety.  It figures my jaw connects the right shoulder I would normally use to masturbate. 

Avery's spell journal page on their back in the sun
A page from my ritual journal last night.

Which I do, sporadically, for reasons I choose not to name, reasons I choose not to align with this current discourse of masturbation as healing and therapeutic.  I know chemically this can be true, but I wonder where the dissonance is when people speak about trauma and isolation in challenging households, how disability needs more recognition now that we are all quarantined, and yet nobody is talking about how masturbation can trigger a whole world of trauma around those very things.  How baking bread and doing push-up challenges is not only an inaccessible coping mechanism but also potentially downright harmful.   

I push back against bloggers who contribute to the hype of “universally” liked toys or lubes.  I push back against a lot.  So I guess I’m consistent when I say that jerking off has been really problematic with regards to my dysphoria, dysmorphia, and living with my ex. 

Tomato seedlings in cups
Tomatoes and Tomatillos are still growing!

Spring is happening.  A friend mentioned a reimagining of seasonal depression as the flowers bloom and plants grow and yet we are adjusting to a closing in.  The circles of life and death are wobbly in flow; another friend keeps reminding people in his Instagram feed that this is all “temporary,” which stung during the days where I feared my mother was about to die.  My best friend from childhood left this earth voluntarily in 2012, leaving behind an association with magnolias.  I see these trees from my porch and do not wince; I remember Katie as a presence who has never left.  I know they were beginning to bloom into their own understandings of gender before they left.  I wince more at using their birth name, as I know they were considering using a different name but never got the chance.  I can’t fall into imagining what the world would be like for Katie right now.  I couldn’t let myself drown in the “what-if’s” during my mom’s illness.  I can’t speculate when the next time I’ll get to eat sushi is or if Mike will ever want to make love to me again. 

A photo taken beneath a giant blossoming magnolia tree

What I can do is put my belly into the sun (thank you Shayne), squeeze a giant prismatic unicorn (thank you Simon), and sift through these photos of the items I am about to review (thank you Kathleen). 

In terms of alignment and overlap, I am in the process of revamping a previous sex toy presentation for my LGBTQ+ Issues Social Work course due in a few weeks.  I aim to talk about sex toys and sexual orientation, gender identity, gender expression, and how they are richly indicative of the evolution of the field as a whole.  I am also crafting a presentation for PROUD about gender affirming products and the companies who provide them.  Which reminds me, I’ve just recently affiliated with NYTC, which was a collaboration long overdue. 

Avery Putting Their Belly in the Sun
Took this selfie for Shayne but it was too good not to share.

Every year I write a blog post about Pride in June, usually picking a toy as a vehicle for my thoughts.  I don’t even know what Pride is going to look like this year.  Everything is online now, condensed to any media consumable from the fingerprints of our phones, to mice, to remotes.  Pride has already exploded into media over the last years with rainbow capitalism, and now that it’s likely to be entirely digital, I cannot fathom the oversaturation we are about to experience as a community.  How Pride coverage informs accessibility will be fascinating and mercurial.  I figured this post might as well talk about Pride before that point of inundation. 

People are right when they say communities have been taking advantage of online formats long before the pandemic.  I think about lying on the beach in Asbury Park this summer as I tuned in to Lizxnn Cobalt Chrome’s Collaboration with Colleagues presentation for Ducky Doolittle’s Sex Ed Skillshare Series.  The webinars were free, they were formed by our unique specialties and intersections with the field of sexuality, they were transcribed and recorded, and they were absolutely fucking brilliant.  They were also sponsored by amazing companies like BlushSheVibe, Kink Academy, and Peepshow Toys.  This meant that each webinar featured a giveaway to those attending.  And since I attended damn near every session, I won a couple of awesome items from Blush.  One was a body-safe dilator kit with soft, rounded silicone for comfort, perfect for all types of bodies, even ones like mine which have experienced “vaginal atrophy” (blech I hate that term) after going on testosterone.  The straight and narrow flexibility of each dilator, plus the rounded tip means nothing pokey, nothing unnecessarily scraping against a G-spot, just a range of fit in four different sizes.   

Blush Wellness G Curve in a bed of yellow flowers
Blush Wellness G-Curve

My favorite win, however, was the Blush Wellness G-Curve.  Strong vibrations with plus and minus buttons to cycle through strength and modes, plus vibration modes that don’t make my junk feel like it’s being jolted by an alarm or forced to keep up with a cha-cha.  It’s made with silky smooth silicone, a light lavender color as per the branding of the Wellness line, and holds a charge really, really well.  The curve of vibrator isn’t so drastic that it scrapes my insides, but the head is nicely rounded with a broad distribution of vibes to make it really wonderful externally.  The vibes are strong but quieter than any other vibrator I’ve ever had.  It’s a no-nonsense vibrator and it just feels right to have it in my life. 

Blush Wellness G Curve nestled into yellow wildflowers

Blush has done a lot for the LGBTQ+ world, not just because their Avant Pride line is all different colors of gender and sexuality flags, but by how they have touched deeper parts of these communities.  Their fundraiser for local LGBTQ+ youth organizations last year provided a generous donation to both the Masakhane Center and the Ali Forney Center.  I know at Masakhane this has meant so much for us as many of the toys we use during our toy trainings and condom demonstrations come from Blush.  The fact Blush makes their products so affordable and body safe, plus the multifunctionality of each item, combined with their missions in social justice leaves me again in adoration and gratitude.   

I previously reviewed the Avant Beyond, a plug made with the colors of the genderqueer flag.  Being genderqueer and queer in general has been the closest identity I have ever understood, and although purple and green are my favorite color combination, it has been a challenge to find genderqueer flag representation in a lot of Pride products.   

Blush Avant Pride True Blue atop a bed of yellow wildflowers
Blush Avant Pride True Blue

I recently bought the True Blue from Blush’s Avant Pride line, a dildo using the colors of the transgender flag with unique curvature and a slim profile.  It was a crucial addition to my collection of Pride-themed toys, but it wasn’t until I first used it when I appreciated how interconnected it was in terms of aesthetic and function.  Frankly, I can’t take thick dildos anymore.  I either end up sore and achy for days or nursing brutal urinary tract infections from the friction, no matter how much lube.  The True Blue is thin enough to fit perfectly inside of me, long enough to help me feel like I’m actually being penetrated, and the placement of the curves offers just enough G-Spot stimulation without too much pressure.  It has the added squish and bend to conform to my innards, but somehow still has a suction base with enough heft to grab onto when thrusting.  It’s a perfect blend of shore, length, width, and usability.  A perfect overlap. 

Blush Avant Pride True Blue on a hoe
The suction is no joke. Alright, kind of a funny picture, but still…no joke.

Time has been exploded for a lot of folx lately.  People I talk to are experiencing Circadian disruption for what may be the first time in their lives.  Some days fly by where others are brutally slow, mushing together until we forget what a “case of the Mondays” may ever have meant.  We’re all traveling through this differently, figuring out what works and what doesn’t at our own pace, making memories while forgetting others, grasping for comfort and pleasure through familiarity, newness, and everything in between.  I may not masturbate the way I used to.  I do and don’t know what’s in the future.  I know I have this toy presentation due, I know I am taking a shower in fifteen minutes, I know Masakhane just got our presentation approved for Sex Down South in September, and yet I don’t know the struggles of tomorrow or what people are feeling on levels beyond checkout lines and social media.  I don’t know if anyone will read this post, but as I am slowly coming to re-realize again and again, some things I just need to do for me.  Whether that is rediscovering the erotic joy of writing this the sunlight as the good Lorde intended or listening to my mind/body when it tells me it is time to end this post.   

Avery's belly in the sun showing their moon ritual journal
The other page from my full moon journal.

I wish you wellness, pleasure, safety, and peace.  These may not be realities, but I can hold them in my heart as wishes.  Take care of yourselves and survive in the best way you know how, if you can, if you want.  I love you.