I'm just a fat gal with a blog and an opinion. Well, lots of opinions.

I have an eating disorder. I will probably always struggle with it.


It reads 2:30 and it taunts me. I’ve been awake for hours and made my first priorities relieving my bladder followed by filling it, with coffee. This would stave off the inevitable headache and belly ache. It fills it and fools it. It begins the cycle of false control. I know this. Not always while it’s happening but now that I’ve seen the clock and heard it’s taunts in my head I know it’s started again. I even got up to pee once again once I noted the time and walked into the kitchen noting a dish I should place in the washer but nothing more and walked to the front door. I peered out to see if in fact it did actually rain after so many months of promise but dryness. It rained. The evidence is apparent on the cement sidewalk in front of my house. I smell it now, that familiar metallic zing in the air and yet, it feels so foreign. I shut the door not knowing what else to do and head back to my bedroom at the end of the hall hating myself for feeling completely unable or unwilling (I’m not really sure) to eat food. I’m hungry. I know I should eat. But what? I go through a mental list of what’s in my fridge and pantry. I let out a big sigh.

Having applied to a few jobs first thing this morning and then after managing the depths of my many inboxes I begin to feel uneasy.

What am I doing? What do I want to be doing?

Last night I was in the thick of anxiety and despair weighted down by a sudden feeling of severe alone-ness. I convinced myself that I was a giant loser. I felt it in the bottom of my gut. I held it with both hands. I felt sick, but only really sick of my own company. I reached out, to so many and yet none could distract me from my own self torture. Completely out of my usual coping mechanism I started a text conversation with a dear but far away friend who surely couldn’t fully understand my situation, but tried wholeheartedly. I knew better, so why couldn’t I do better? For myself?

So good at helping others, re-branding myself “director of happiness” and yet there I was in a weak and dark hour feeling like the lowest life form on the planet. What happened to directing my own happiness first? Why is it when left with too much time alone do I always default to self destruction mode? I know better but yet it still happens. Is it just a comfort or familiarity thing? Ugh!

She tried to lift me up, sweet thing that she is, even though I knew she was struggling, too. But it wasn’t cheeriness I needed or wanted. Soon I realized all I had to do was eat, but I didn’t feel hungry and I didn’t want to start all over again. I’d become disconnected again and wasn’t sure how or when it happened but I knew that’s what the deal was.

I have an eating disorder. I will probably always struggle with it.

I push myself only to later punish myself for doing so. I feel out of control over my entire life right now and so I pretend not to notice the hours stretch and pass. When I can look outside and see no light it almost feels like gentle permission to eat again. Almost only because occasionally that alone isn’t enough and I’ll attempt some sort of sick competition with myself to see just how much longer I can go. I hate it and myself when I do it but am so rarely aware of it when in the thick of it.

Once I decide I will eat it becomes even more difficult to decide on what to eat. Should I go get something? Should I cook? Heat something up? Money is always the constraint. Do I have anything fresh? Is something about to go bad? It’s never just “I’m hungry and will eat food” it’s always gotta be about something else. Always the multitasker. I can never just be human and do human things, I always have to worry about all the things always. Ugh!

Too much time alone seems to be the one consistant trigger I can point to and know for certain that I am not always good for myself. There was a point where it felt good and right to spend time alone. Those long evenings with the puggyman, chilling after a long day of work. I would happily and hungrily eat with ease and feel satisfied and fulfilled after a meal. Now without a job, once again I am left with not just evenings but days and evenings running into each other and bleeding into and out of me until I can’t recall the day or the date only that there is pressure to find a job, to be excited about my upcoming birthday and to make plans and decisions for those things.

I’ve lost my joy. There’s no pure joy anymore. It’s been muddied by stress. Even when having fun on the weekend with friends or my fella I just can’t grasp my old me-ness that used to get me through it. How can I help so many others through their difficult shit but nearly refuse any sort of help or support with mine? Why do I feel so invisible? How is everyone but me so fucking busy all of the time? (Have I really pushed everyone away?)

I’m writing this to avoid having to decide what to eat to stop the searing pain of it from interrupting my distraction seeking efforts online. I’ve hit a dead end and I’m having to face it and yet hate that I have to at all. Asked recently if I would consider never eating actual food again if I could just take a tablet 2-3 times a day instead and even that I couldn’t make a fantasy decision on. “I’d like the option to eat or not I guess” is all I managed.

When employed I am decisive and bubbly. When unemployed I am poor and miserable.

I feel bad for spending money on food and worse when others buy me a meal. I hate pity most of all. I self sabotage when left to my own devices for too long. I don’t yet know how much “too long” actually is. I only know when I’ve reached it or after the fact, usually. I’ve become sedentary out of weakness and fear. Weakness because I’m not getting enough nutrition to have the energy to do much in the way of movement. Fear of the outside world, human interactions, attacks, imposter syndrome, recognition, questions or even eye contact. I want to block it all out and so I do by not going out at all. My dog doesn’t seem to mind but surely he’d like to go for walks again. He’s an enabler of a snuggle monster.

I have difficulty getting excited about anything. I don’t feel quite numb, but I know it will arrive shortly. I can’t do the things I want to do (access/money/energy) and don’t want to do the things I should do. I have been sleeping too much. There’s a first for everything I suppose. I don’t want to talk about me. I want to talk about movies and music and philosophies and fashion and television shows and cuteness. I want art and feel so far removed from it at once.

I want to just eat something simple and feel satisfied. Why has other people’s moral issues with food crept back into my world? I didn’t sign up for this. And it’s not related to my body size at all. This is surprising to people. I love my body. But I am not supporting it like I should or want to. This is a battle of the mind. This is part of my depression cycle. I was doing okay with eating the first few weeks after getting laid off. I even started to cook and bake again for a bit. I don’t really know what changed or shifted nut something did somehow.

Thanks for reading.


Spacing Out


I have been thinking a lot about space and relationships and how these meet and interact and have an effect on us all. Today, on my personal Facebook page, I posted the following:

What’s on Your mind?

What’s on mine? How the way people act shows you how they feel about you, regardless of their words.

I have definitely become more introverted over the last couple of years. I have purposefully given space to people and relationships, at first for my own sanity, but later because I saw that it was better/healthier for all involved. Space. Wow. It can almost seem like doing nothing creates more definitive results than doing something…but that’s misleading.

Space is necessary for us to process how things have affected us and how we feel about them. Often being in the thick of something can blind us to what is really going on. While I knew my job was becoming toxic, it wasn’t until I was pushed out and had some time to process what happened and more so hearing how things have progressed afterwards that I realized just how fortunate I was to get laid off. Emotional roller coaster, for real.

I have been giving myself more space, too. From socializing, people, things, stuff…Ha-ha! True facts. I have to really want to do something or see someone in order for me to actually do that lately. Even then, it’s a struggle. My anxiety has become something that I must consider constantly. I can no longer handle being in large crowds. Who knew?! I have been to hundreds of concerts and when my bff “Q” suggested we see the Violent Femmes I was instantly excited and then sad. I just can’t do it anymore. Thank the stars for YouTube! Ha!

Before I posted the above on my Facebook wall, I knew that people would also see it and look at me and think about how I have treated them, too. Of course I considered this. I’m not so full of myself, ya know. I am in no way insinuating that I have treated everyone in my life justly. Hardly! But it is a humbling reminder to myself that not everyone is aware of my struggles or would know or care to know how to navigate that or what I must do to navigate this on my own. It really does go both ways.

There are relationships in my life that simply require more space where others would be better with less, but hey, geography, am I right?! I am still not very good at telling people I want to see them. I am still not very good at taking care of myself (too much time in my head somehow turns into my not eating all day). It’s a journey, yes, not a destination. So I am still learning how to do right by myself and those I love. And I do love so many that it often hurts to have them so far away or spread out or to not see them, even when they don’t live far at all.

I have learned to give space to my vulnerability, to sit with it and give it it’s own breath and time. It’s really fucking hard! It’s hard, too, to have people refuse to see me outside of whatever version of me they have captured as their own and keep in a little labeled box, “Sarah”. Yeah, that’s not me. I’m a multi-faceted individual, we all are. There is no singular “Sarah” and I don’t wake up each day unchanged, somehow. I have found that this is when gross misunderstandings occur, when I am not seen as me, but as a past version of myself that this loved one won’t let go of. Space is needed.

Actions do speak louder than words. I believe this. I do take words all too seriously at times and forget to pay attention to folks actions. Not feeling as though I belong to anything lately has been tough. When I want to collaborate on things I get lots of empty promises and I’m left disappointed and doubting myself. I don’t know that I’ll be so quick to want to start or join things for awhile. Again, space is necessary.

Time heals, space heals and I’m feeling a need to protect myself emotionally, too. I have been accused of judging people I love too harshly or giving up or cutting them off “for no reason” but I gotta tell ya, I always have a reason. As much as I live my life from the heart, I try to stick close to actual logic. I do have a high standard of friendship and it is because of that standard that I have the lengthy and close friends that I do. Friends that have hurt me, and still do, for sure, but that are full of enough love and respect and forgiveness that things always work out in the end. Remove respect from the equation and start treating people poorly and I’m not sticking around for that. I give chances, I hear people out and am open to starting anew, but I will not be abused. I must draw a line there.

I may keep to myself at times, I may appear to be a very private person, but I am honest and won’t change that. To those that take the time to get to know me and I them, there is nothing to hide. I know I’m weird and a bit strange, but overall I just want to enjoy my life and the people in it, ya know? Isn’t that what we all want?  Sometimes it seems the only way to get where we need to be or go is to give people and ourselves some space.


I know I haven’t written in awhile. To be honest, I’ve lost whatever it was that allowed me to write, I’ve lost my voice. I don’t know when or if it will return, but y’all have been so kind and encouraging. If you have questions, would like advice, would like to guest post, miss something that I used to post or would like my thoughts on a particular subject, please leave a comment on this post or email me

Thanks so much! 

Panic Schmanic


Am I really doing this again? Yup, fifth time I’ve been laid off. #ValleyLife A title is just a title, it turns out, but this one hit home for me. I am sad to have to let it go, but perhaps I’ll just continue to refer to myself as the “Director of Happiness” just the same. In the end it’s all I’ve wanted to do, all I’ve ever done in my own weird way. It’s bittersweet but a bit of a relief now that the axe has finally fallen.

I’ve known for awhile that my boss hates me. I made no bones about it. I know I’m not paid to make friends. It just so happens that most people do like me and most of the people I support adore me. I have made a couple of friends, too. It’s just the lies and manipulation that keeps our entire team questioning everything and each other that’s made work incredibly difficult. When I woke up on the morning I was told, I had a gut feeling I couldn’t ignore, I knew she would be letting me go. I had no signs or signals outside of that and I nearly chuckled when she finally told me because of it. Listen to your gut!

So much of my life is once again up in the air. I have been thinking a lot about where I was this same time last year. It’s nearly exactly the same only I have my puggo now. Facing unemployment again at the end of this month, but this time my rent is going up $150 on the 1st and I’m not sure if I’ll be able to afford it with unemployment alone. Then yesterday I got a call from my insurance regarding an accident I was in two years ago. Things just don’t seem to be looking up for me, and yet…

I have this wonderful man in my life that never hesitates, never doubts and always thinks I’m made of rainbows and sunshine. I have some incredible friends who have my back no matter what. My life may be slightly simpler than in previous years, but it sure seems like the only constant is change. I just hate feeling as though I have no say or choice in my life. I have only told a select few people about my being “let go” due to a “business decision” and each and every one has been far more shocked than I was.

The truth is that I sort of didn’t let it sink in, I guess. I mean, I felt it and semi anticipated it, but it wasn’t until I finally told my fella last Thursday night that it finally seemed real. I cried. I hadn’t done that yet and I was surprised by how sad I felt/feel about it. “Sarah, I promise you that soon you will look back on this and laugh because something so awesome is going to come for you that you won’t even believe it!” my boyfriend said when I told him my news. He’s always insisted they don’t deserve me there and that they treat me terribly, even my mentor said he’d never have been able to stick it out with what I’ve had to deal with. It makes me feel good that I have stuck it out this long, but I have also been wronged and lied to enough by my managers for so long that it’s hard for me to believe anything anymore.

Saturday I got to meet the wonderful and amazing Amanda of FatBodyPolitics for lunch in San Francisco. I had explained to her in advance that I’ve been struggling with my social anxiety more and more lately and she understood. Still, I pushed myself too far. While we had a lovely brunch, the place was small and very crowded. It was a bit hard to hear each other but still the meal was good and getting to talk with Amanda was awesome. Then we headed to Fisherman’s Warf, a large tourist area on a Saturday. I was feeling fine at this point though and just glad to be outside and walking about with Amanda. We had some great conversation and even found a postcard with some fat hate on it. She kept insisting that if I needed to leave it was okay, but I didn’t want to leave. In the end I dropped her off at Pier 39 and headed home. I thought I was okay, just thirsty and a bit overwhelmed, perhaps.

Except I got stuck in traffic when a baseball game let out and I found myself quite suddenly surrounded by thousands of people in orange and cops, lots of cops. I started to panic. I drank all of my water and then just tried to keep breathing. But it was too late, I was heading for a severe panic attack and I didn’t realize it. I felt trapped and afraid. I started to cry and text my boyfriend (I couldn’t move my car). I wasn’t communicating effectively and he didn’t understand what I was trying to tell him. I got to the freeway and soon found myself in traffic once again, this time due to an accident. It was then that I began hysterically crying and couldn’t stop. I made it home (I was supposed to go to my bf’s place) and just ran to my room and cried and cried. I was hyperventilating and truly felt like I was dying. I was hot and cold and lights were too much. I text him that I couldn’t stop crying and that I was afraid. He didn’t understand what was going on and I couldn’t, in that state, explain it.

I ended up curling into a ball on my bed sobbing loudly in the dark for a total of 4.5 hours straight. Exhausting! Truthfully, in the moment and that whole night, I didn’t know what was happening to me. I thought my brain was broken. I thought I was actually crazy. I even googled “How to tell if you’re having a breakdown” and the first article that came up I clicked on. When the page loaded it required that I “sign up” before allowing me to read it. Thanks internet. *Sigh* It was only a bit later that I calmed down enough to sleep.

The next morning I was still afraid to leave my house. My boyfriend came and comforted me and I explained what had happened. I don’t think he fully understood but gosh he is so kind and comforting when I need him to be. He asked me what I wanted to do and I said, entangled in his arms, “I just want to stay like this, right here, and never have to leave.” and he said, “Absolutely” but in the end he did coax me out of my hidey hole like no one else could. I was still feeling very fearful and quiet and shaken up and so we had a quiet day together before our work week began.

Today I’m feeling fragile and having to force every smile somehow hurts deeply. I can’t tell people what’s going on and yet some (those who know me) can tell. I told two people whom I know I can trust and it was a bit of a shock when I first arrived this morning and my beloved coworker Patricia said, “Are you okay? I’m worried about you.” *Sigh* She’s amazing. How she can know something is so wrong before I’ve even spoken a word to her is incredible. She and another coworker have given me nothing but love and compassion. I am truly grateful to have them in my life. My boss’s boss, back from two weeks of travel, has not even said a word to me. While my boss will only give feedback/criticism of the things I do or have done/organized.

I cannot wait to be home and feeling safe again but I don’t know that the safe part will come back so soon. It feels like I still have the weight of the world on my shoulders and mind and I’m struggling to maintain composure at work. It’s really hard to explain to someone who’s never had a panic attack, but it almost feels like you’re literally falling and falling into a bottomless pit except you’re sitting or laying on your bed and you know it but somehow your brain can’t make heads or tails of anything in that moment. It’s been just shy of two years since I’ve had a full blown attack like this. Usually I can feel the signs and can calm myself or get to another venue before it escalates, but I was alone and stuck in traffic when it did this time. Knowing my triggers helps, but it’s not a failsafe. *Sigh*

My courage, creativity, strength, confidence, all of it is gone right now. I am having a very hard time focusing on anything for more than a few seconds. Just writing this has taken me 7 hours. Luckily my job is so sporadic and multi task oriented anyway that most haven’t noticed a thing. I am having to train my lovely coworker on how to do all of the things I do in a given day, week, etc and that’s been tough on both of us. She keeps wishing things weren’t happening the way that they are and I swing from near-tears to numb. So far I’ve only cried once today and have staved off more tears by drinking lots of iced green tea and keeping busy. I keep saying, “I’m ok” to myself and to others and each time it gets a little easier. I really wish I could take a sick day but I don’t have them to take and if I miss a day of work I won’t have money for rent. All I want to do is go back to my room, curl into a ball and block out the world, but I can’t. That’s not reality and I can’t hide from it forever anyway.

I share this experience and what I’m going through not to gain sympathy or pity (gawd I hate pity so much), but to hopefully relieve myself and others of some of the shame associated with panic attacks and social anxiety. I have been afraid to tell folks before and when I have I’ve been very nearly called a liar by my nearest and dearest. *Shrugs* I can’t make people see the real me if they choose to keep me in the “Sarah box” they’ve created for me in their own minds. That’s been really hard. I have to just keep on keepin’ on somehow and I’m figuring out new ways to do just that every moment. I have to remind myself to be gentle and kind to/with myself. It’s not been easy. It seems some of my old self deprecating ways have begun to seep back in.

Hugs & <3




When Positive Turns Negative


If you’ve read this blog in the past you might know that I’m generally a very positive person. I am this way because I haven’t always been and I know how it feels to not be. Everything is more difficult when you are actively hating, yourself, the world, whatever. I have been able to do a lot of self work and healing through thinking more positively. It has changed nearly every aspect of my life. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

What has surprised me is a sort of backlash when it comes to positivity. I mean, there are always those who reject it immediately and refuse to see it as anything but hokum. I get that. What I don’t get is the way many have used positivity to lift themselves up while tearing others down. This is the worst, for me, to witness. I have seen it in those I love and care about and even some amongst our own fat icons and idols. It has caused me to distance myself from the body positive movement, sadly.

I have had friends who have taken the positivity I live by and turn it into a pedestal for themselves so that they might shit upon those they deem to be beneath them. That is definitely not the type of positivity I work with or towards. It offends me deeply and I have had to cut a couple of people out of my life as a result, unfortunately. I cannot listen to someone call themselves a feminist, an activist and then watch or listen to them tear down “skinny bitches” or make derogatory remarks about someone’s gender or presentation.

I realized this week in a dark and lonely moment that all of my mini posters I made for myself with positive quotes or sayings on them are all covered up. It gave me pause. I wondered and then stopped. They are covered up by clothes hanging from hooks on both of my doors. I have this one corner that has a bunch of positive stuff, even the poster from last year’s Big Moves dance show “En Masse.” I realized the difference in how I felt about myself from then until now. I started to think about who is in my life now versus then and how that makes me feel, too.

Shortly after that dance show was when the ugly side of the fat community showed itself to me and wounded me deeply. To see those I had admired or even considered friends at some point in time say and do things against other fatties or other gendered folks or just being completely cruel in general broke my heart. I know I haven’t recovered from this. To see that these people are still held up as pillars in the fat community hurts me, but more so, all of us. If the very people we celebrate are the ones actively hating on other fatties and genders it hurts our entire community and movement and fight for equal treatment and access. But what can be done?

Often we don’t want to see these things in those we look up to, even or especially when they are pointed out. It is because of this that I feel that I have lost my voice in the fat community and my identity as an activist. I have my own struggles, pain and fears to wade through and work with and often I don’t have enough spoons for even my own shit. I certainly do not think that there is only one or a right way to be an activist or a part of this important movement. I see the value in what so many are doing right now. Yet it feels like a kick in the gut to see meanies held up as the highest examples of fat activism and feminism. No! You don’t get to hate on people in my community and still get all of the glory and fame and yet…I kind of feel like that is the true American way.

The flip side of this is that we’ve all worked so hard to give a platform, to make space and to honor that space, for every identity that no one feels confident speaking up anymore. We’ve all gone silent, or at least many of us have. I’m not sure which is worse…The two-faced liars, the haters or the labeled-into-a-silent-corner? What is the point in seeking to be the spokesperson for a movement that you yourself have hard limits about (size)? Step down and just stop it. Take a moment or a month and just breathe! Do some fucking soul searching and figure your shit out before stepping back into the spotlight to tell the world how we should be acting or treating folks. Get real and get humble and find that thing that makes you just a human again.

I think we all strive to find that thing that sets us apart from the rest, a cut above if you will. But I think we forget to just be ourselves. I think it’s easy to be dazzled by the limelight. It’s way more fun to surround yourself with people who always agree with you rather than have to actually hear a different perspective or lived experience than your own. We are all special little snowflakes, but that is also what makes us mostly the same. We have far more in common with others than we want to believe. Belief and truth, the eternal debate!

I try very hard to live my own truth, to “ride my own melt,” and to share what I have with others. It’s not an easy thing. It’s what I think is right. I don’t expect to have people follow my path or my truth. I don’t attempt to find recruits or followers. I’m just me and that in itself is enough most of the time. I see the value in sharing my lived experiences with others. By sharing my story, by exposing my truth, I have helped people make better choices for themselves. No membership required! No fees, no strings, no hassles, just me. This blog has given me the safe space I needed to work through some very difficult times in my life. I won’t ever regret that.

Friends tell me that my voice will return, that this writer’s block will go away just as mysteriously as it arrived. They tell me that my thirst for activism will come back and I’ll be back out there demonstrating and being all fat at people once again. I try to believe them. I know their intentions are pure. Right now I’m still hurting, though. I see so much happening all around me built up on falsities and all I want to do is hide myself away. Well, truthfully, right now all I want to do is sleep, but that’s it’s own issue right there. Ha-ha!

I feel as though I’m nearly back where I started again and again and everything is always up in the air. I feel as though I have no say in my own life lately and it’s difficult. It’s hard to have people tell me how amazing and awesome they insist I am when I just feel like a giant failure across the board. I know that’s not me! But it’s how I’m feeling lately. I’ve begun to feel insecure about things I haven’t in years and it’s frightening. I’ve lost touch with what makes me tick. I’m not crafty or creative anymore and I’m not sure why that is. I’ve pushed people away that I hadn’t meant to and I’m not sure why or how I can repair that now. Such is life, eh?

It’s not easy to stay positive. It’s not easy to not go along with what society tells us is the only way to be. But nature never intended for us to all look and act and think the same. What a nightmare that would be! I’m not going to start apologizing for all of the things that are different about me. I never have and I don’t intend to start now. I celebrate those differences as much as I can. For me it’s always going to be the deeper meanings and connections I seek out. The surface-y stuff? Nah, not my bag, baby! If I’ve become more introverted over time, so be it. I wish this lead to more or just better writing on my part, but as much as I struggle with what the universe brings into my life, I am happy to have what I do.

There will always be haters, meanies, bigots, liars and assholes in this world. And as much as I hate to see the truth no one else wants to within our fat community, I am grateful for it. I would rather have the harsh truth than a pretty-sparkly lie any day. Even when it hurts. Even when it changes me. Even when I feel the need to hide. I want to believe that we all get what we give in this world and that old ” what goes around comes around” thing is real. I don’t know that this is true in reality, or that it could be, but I want to believe it. I won’t stop questioning, that is for certain! And neither should you! Question everything and everyone! Stay hungry for knowledge and truth and speak it to power so that some meaningful change can happen in the world. We so sorely need it.



Guest Post from Adam & Eve


The following post does not reflect my own personal beliefs or opinions and was not written by me, NotBlueAtAll. This post is from the company “Adam & Eve” who did not provide me any compensation or material goods for this post, but felt that my readers may be interested in it’s content:

I am no newbie when it comes to sex toys, but even I was a little confused by what in the world Ben Wa Balls are. To be honest, I thought it was some weird new fetish thing that people were doing with Baoding balls, those Chinese meditation/medicine balls you can get from any pagoda in the mall. A quick online search for them will lead you to a lot of sites saying, “Not to be confused with Ben Wa Balls,” so apparently I’m not the only one that didn’t know the difference.

However, I found that the confusion from a lot of us is pretty justified, because both are used for somewhat relatable purposes. Boading balls can be anywhere between the size of a large marble and a golf ball. Yahoo says that the Baoding balls are typically used for relaxation purposes, but that they’re also used by athletes to increase circulation in the hands, improve concentration, and decrease stress, all of which can actually benefit just about anyone.

While playing with Boading balls could strengthen your hands, Ben Wa Balls, also known as a “vaginal ball” or “internal use ball,” are used to strength vaginal muscles. Adam and Eve stated that “Ben Wa Balls are one of the earliest known sex toys for women” and that they were “[originally] implemented in Asia several hundred years ago.” Similar in the size variations of Boading balls, today’s Ben Wa models can feature anything from textured outsides, flexible shells, and even chimes within them.

So how exactly do these little things go about strengthening such a difficult area to tone? Ben Wa Balls aid in increasing the resistance during Kegel exercises — the contracting and relaxing of the muscles of your pelvic floor. Strengthening the muscles is supposed to make it easier for you to orgasm and make them more intense. The resulting tightened muscles can also feel better for your partner during penetration.

While they’ve been around for longer than any other sex toy, they’re becoming increasingly popular lately among women. It’s possible that this is due to the exposure the toy received after being featured in the successful, steamy franchise Fifty Shades of Grey. Times Higher Education says that while the toy was featured in the BDSM novels, the toy isn’t exclusive to those who are a part of the BDSM community; they can be enjoyed by anyone.

Virtual-Strategy even highlighted their medical purpose outside of sexual pleasure. In a recent article, they stated that using the ball to strengthen the muscles of the vagina can also help women suffering from incontinence and bladder control, common issues for women who have recently had a baby.

Everyone is looking for a multi-use product. They may look simple, but these little balls are great for a wide variety of different uses. As an historic toy with modern innovative purposes, it’s no wonder these little guys are a must have for any adult toy box!

By Amber Rodriguez


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