I might be the only person who has performed in a production of “The Vagina Monologues” that finds masturbation cheesy. It’s not a popular declaration in post-riot grrrl circles. But, I was a fast girl- started “doing it” at age 14 and had adventurous and mostly awesome sex solidly for 20 years. I dabbled in masturbation before humping full-time, but jumping into sex at a relatively young age, I kind of skipped the masturbation stage. After that, playing with myself was just an enhancement to partner sex. Alone, I’d lose interest quickly and need some type of human stimulation (via phone, video or text) to get off.
Then my fantastic two-decade run of carefree sexuality came to a screeching halt like tires in a late night Wal-Mart parking lot. I fell pregnant and the Dr. said, “No more sex” as it may potentially harm the baby. My body, never entirely claimed by me but always open for others, suddenly served a very different purpose as I incubated then nursed, for 2 ½ years, a tiny human. It is not surprising that I went into total sexual shock.
My husband is the kind of hot where my co-workers drool over him and I still look at him and think “Day-um.” However, he is the father of my child, and having a child is the reason I stopped finding pleasure in my own body. The occasional wet dream became my biggest thrill (maybe there was still a fire within). My mind and body were screwed, but sadly, just figuratively. I went so far as to suggest that my husband look outside the marriage to be physically fulfilled, as I had no energy to bring to the table and felt guilty that I couldn’t muster the interest, but neither of us really wanted that. I had nearly resolved to stay asexual for the rest of my life.
However, FUCK THAT. I was nearing 40 and wanting to experience the so-called “sexual prime” that makes cougars “cougars”. I realized if I wanted to get back my mojo I had to do it right by starting at the beginning. Starting with myself. I was not looking forward to the dreaded act of masturbation that had always bored me so much. I’d had sex toys over the years (what ’90s hipster didn’t have a Rabbit Pearl?), but the smell of rubber and latex, the oddly colored wiener shaped objects felt so cheesy and cringy, and embarrassment is not sexy at all.
Then a curious thing happed on my Instagram. Somewhere between Richard Marx, The Hood Witch, and Jackie Beat, a photo showed up that was the one and only time a promoted post has actually worked on my social media feed. The word accompanying the photo knocked me over the head: “Chakrubs”. The beautiful image displayed an array of dildos made out of a variety (including rose quartz, jade, and amethyst) of stones. This intriguing concept could not be shaken off. With the tongue in cheek name, gorgeously inviting marketing campaign and a founder, Vanessa Cuccia, who’s the kind of cool girl I’d befriend immediately, Chakrubs was glaringly obviously speaking to me.
But was Chakrubs part of the hipster trend of salt lamps, sage, and crystals as fashion accessories, or have witchy women always been diddling their crystals and I’m only just now in on the secret? The deeper I became involved in their story, the clearer it became that Chakrubs was the real deal- a brilliant concept created to empower women.
Chakrubs hold unique properties and energies depending on the type of crystal they are shaped from. Not knowing that much about crystals, I was worried my snatch might go haywire if I chose the wrong one. The Chakrub online presence is so beautifully inclusive, that I already felt like part of the club, so even though it’s not really my style to disclose personal info, I emailed customer service detailing my situation. They got back to me right away with a playful banter that totally put me at ease, recommending the Rose Quartz for the heart chakra. With my heart chakra so clearly out of whack after directing all my love towards my child and none towards myself for so long, it seemed a solid choice.
I was so excited when my Chakrub arrived that I waited three days to open it, alone, in a clean house with no one else around. The packaging was sumptuous, so clearly feminine and ready to pamper in a gold satin pouch. Already the Chakrubs experience was a million times above any previous sex toy experience, and I hadn’t even used it yet.
The Rose Quartz seemed to fly into my hand like Harry Potter’s wand and it took me all of 5 minutes to finish the first time. Yes, the mood needed to be set (my musical crush Ishmael Butler’s “Shabazz Palaces” playing and a little porn), but I let the Rose Quartz Chakrub be my guide. From the first time to the present, my Chakrub is taking very good care of me.
I’ve read the comments on the Chakrubs boards and taken their suggestions; I lay it on my stomach hot as a lava rock after I’m done using it, and sometimes I sleep with it under my pillow to keep us intertwined. It doesn’t quite feel like masturbating, as I am not alone with my Chakrub- it is putting off a gentle energy that is flowing between us and we are developing a relationship. I’ve gone back to the beginning and am resetting the stage for something that should have been done when I was a teenager (or younger). It feels good. Really good.
I have more work to do, but I’m ok with that. My little Chakrub is helping me. Like my favorite homemade gray knit hat, my Chakrub is moving to the top of my possessions to save in a house fire… hopefully, my Chakrub doesn’t start that fire.