I’m 27, Childfree, and I Had a Tubal Ligation!

Why a Tubal Ligation?

I’ve always known that I didn’t want children. Or rather, I’ve known since the moment that I realized it was an option.

I grew up in a rural, conservative area where raising a family is an expectation. The only people I knew who didn’t have children were those who were not able to. Still, by the time I was 14, I had decided that I never wanted to be pregnant or have my own biological children. I didn’t particularly like kids under the age of about 10 or 12, and I figured that it was more socially responsible to foster or adopt anyway.

After I moved to the city for college (and was exposed to a wider range of people and ideas), I realized that I could choose to simply not have children at all. I could focus on a career. I could travel the world. Finally, my future seemed exciting — and most importantly, right.

I did a lot of research on sterilization and I heard the horror stories of not being taken seriously. I lost hope that a doctor would trust my ability to make my own reproductive decisions before I was in my late 30s. So, when I became sexually active at 22, I simply went to Planned Parenthood and started oral contraception.

My experience on hormonal birth control went from scary (depression, anxiety, & suicidal thoughts), to manageable (breast/nipple discomfort & possible decrease in libido), to potentially destroying my life & relationship. My depression was back, my sexual desire & arousal was non-existent, my ability to lubricate naturally had stopped, some of my favorite artificial lubricants suddenly started to burn, and insertion/orgasm ranged from uncomfortable to downright painful.

I was desperate to find a solution to my problems — and getting my body off of hormones seemed like the perfect place to start. A friend recommended me to a gynecologist who believes in reproductive autonomy (Dr. Kasper in Indianapolis), I mentioned permanent sterilization at my annual exam, and we scheduled surgery. Simple as that.

Happy Little Uterus


The rest of this post will be a chronicle of my surgery experience, primarily for those who want to know what to expect when going in for a tubal ligation.


The Night Before

The night before surgery, I did all of my prep work. I avoided food & drink after midnight. I showered with Hibiclens, removed my dark nail polish, and took out all of my piercings. I tried to do my “deep breathing” homework, but got distracted and figured that falling asleep to some ASMR videos would be just as helpful.

Surgery Day: Pre-Op

5:30 AM – We arrive 2 hours early to the hospital, as per my instructions. I check into the registration desk to receive my hospital bracelet and sign my consent form. Then I take my paperwork down to the basement where I give permission for the doctor to notify Andrew (my partner) when surgery is over. We sit down in the waiting room and wait.

6:00 AM – We get brought back to my pre-op room. I get asked a lot of questions about my medical history, current medications, and allergies — which I will repeat several times to multiple nurses, residents, and fellows throughout the morning. I pee in a cup so that they can do a last-minute pregnancy test. I wipe my entire body down with wet wipes that the nurse provided for me and then put on my hospital gown and grippy socks. I had started my period the day before, so I also receive the most ridiculous & uncomfortable pair of mesh underwear that absolutely will NOT cooperate with a maxi-pad with wings.

My nurse comes back to put my IV in, for which I promptly request that all needles stay far, far away from my hands. She inserts it into my forearm instead, near the radius bone — which might not have been much easier. From then on, it’s a waiting game.

7:00 AM – Shortly before my doctor arrives, I get informed that she has started to do bilateral salpingectomies in place of tubal ligations. (Recent research is showing that it may help to prevent ovarian cancer in the future. And removing the fallopian tubes altogether obviously reduces the risk of ectopic pregnancies.) Thankfully, I was prepared for this question.

A friend of mine went in for a tubal with the same doctor just a few weeks before and agreed to the salpingectomy. I had spent the last couple of weeks trying to get information from the nurses (who insisted that a last-minute change would never happen) and compare coverage through my insurance company. My friend & I are still waiting for our respective bills, but from what insurance told me, the salpingectomy would not be considered preventative care according to the Affordable Care Act — and would therefore not be covered 100%.

I explain this whole confusing & somewhat disappointing ordeal, my doctor agrees to the original plan (a laparoscopic tubal ligation with cauterization), and I am wheeled off to the operating room.

7:30 AM – I think that the nurses were a little surprised that this was my first time having surgery, because of how calm I seemed. My bravery only softened a little once I was actually inside the operating room; suddenly, I started shivering. To be fair, they had told me that it would be very cold and would soon be covering me in blankets. But it didn’t seem that cold.

The room is full of medical staff, all working swiftly on their individual tasks. They push my bed as close to the operating table as possible and help me shimmy over. They put special wraps on my legs to maintain blood flow. And then they inform me that they have started my anesthetic. It only takes a few moments and I am out.

Surgery Day: Post-Op

9:30 AM – I start to wake up gradually in what I assume is the Post-Anesthesia Care Unit. I don’t remember much aside from overhearing two nurses: One asks what procedure I had done, the other responds “She had her tubes tied. Yay!” I smile.

10:00 AM – I am somewhat awake and they wheel me back to my private recovery room. My nurse from before is there and asks about my pain; I tell her I’m probably only at a 4. She then asks if I want my “husband” to be called back. I giggle on the inside, but am still too sleepy to correct her, so I simply say yes. Once he’s there, she gives me some Sprite & crackers and he helps me eat & drink. (I don’t remember much of what we talked about during this time, but I know he was cracking jokes because I gave him the bird when my nurse wasn’t looking.)

I can’t leave the hospital until I pee, so I ask for another Sprite and wait. Eventually, I think I can go and my nurse helps me out of bed and down the hallway. I’m surprisingly unsteady on my feet and very slow. My nurse confides in me that her & her husband also decided not to have children and I instantly develop all the warm fuzzies for her. She asks if I think I’ll need help in the bathroom, but I insist that I can manage. I pee, she helps me back to the room, and then it’s Andrew’s job to help me get dressed in my pajamas again.

Thankfully, my friend had suggested that I bring my own baby wipes with me, so we’re able to get most of the orange surgical stains off my skin. I have 3 incisions: one on either side and another inside of my belly button.

11:00 AM – My nurse sits down with both of us to go over my discharge & recovery instructions. Andrew signs the paperwork, since I am still a little loopy. Another nurse arrives with a wheelchair to transport me back up to the hospital pharmacy for my anti-nausea & pain medications.

My prescriptions aren’t quite ready yet, so Andrew & I decide to relinquish the wheelchair and wait by ourselves. When they’re ready, he insists that he will take care of it so that I don’t have to move around more than absolutely necessary. He then helps me shuffle my way back to the front doors of the hospital and finds me a place to sit while he gets the car. After a long morning, we’re finally on our way home.


For details on my recovery, the amazing effects of going off hormonal birth control, and potential insurance battles… click here!

A Sex Blogger Who is Afraid of Sex?

I’ve been silent lately. Most days, my energy is zapped simply by existing; making it through another day at a job that I am growing to despise, escaping into a pile of fiction, and convincing myself that “lurking on social media” is synonymous with “being social.” The blog has gone stagnant in the nearly 2 months since my last review — and it all somehow seems outside of my control. My backlog of sex toys is long and unmoving and it causes me so much anxiety that I often feel like there is a tiny mouse inside of my heart, clawing & chewing on very vital things.

At this point, my relationship with sex is a wreck. There are so many layers that I don’t even know what’s at the root of my issues anymore.

Is my birth control causing my low libido? Is the depression making it worse? (Or is the birth control suddenly making the depression worse again?) Maybe the weight I’ve gained in the last year has destroyed my body image and made me feel unsexy? (Is the depression making me gain weight too?) Am I simply putting too much pressure on myself and creating a negative feedback loop? …Or (and this is most terrifying of all) is this simply the way that I am now?

Everything is too tangled up to make sense.

As you all know, I’ve been dealing with “low libido” for years. It started as a lack of spontaneous desire. Then (as I began to realize the last time I wrote about struggling through painful sex) it became increasingly difficult to experience responsive desire and arousal — mentally or physically. More and more often, I was masturbating simply to release physical stress; using my Hitachi for a quick 2 minutes while I continued to watch Netflix. My orgasms became something that was happening to my body; a physiological equation that my mind never needed to enter into.

With my partner, I began initiating quickies & rushing through sex as much as possible. It required less energy and it was easier that way; if I didn’t give my body or mind the time to get aroused, then I couldn’t be disappointed when it didn’t happen. And of course, it was precisely when we did attempt to slow down and focus on “foreplay” that I finally fell apart. After an hour of kissing and touching, it became obvious to both of us that the only emotion I felt was an increasing panic that I didn’t feel anything sexual at all.

I cried myself to sleep that night and I’m crying again as I write this. It’s probably been over 2 months since my partner and I have had intercourse; the longest we’ve gone since we became sexually active. I so desperately want to want sex again… but I just don’t. To be honest, I’m actually terrified of being sexual with him — of being sexual at all — because I worry that I’m not strong enough to battle my own (perceived) shortcomings and self-hatred. I can’t even study sex in an academic way anymore without feeling like a failure. I listen to other people talk about craving or enjoying sex and I get incredibly sad & jealous. That used to be me. I used to have those emotions. Now I just feel broken.

And the worst part is, I absolutely know that the longer I drag this out, the harder it becomes to bounce back. I constantly feel like I’m letting everyone down: myself, my partner, the companies that I have partnered with on this blog, my readers. The last couple of times that I have tried to masturbate for reviews, my negative emotions have spilled out in the form of physical pain during insertion or orgasm. Not exactly a glowing endorsement for a product that should induce pleasure.

I guess what I’m saying is… I’m still here; I’m just in the background right now, trying to gather up the strength to battle this out. I am not planning on giving up the blog or the wonderful sex-positive community that I have become a part of, but I also don’t know how to be a sex blogger while I am actively dreading sex. At this point, all I know is that I need to find a way to take the stress & pressure out of the situation. I’m just too exhausted & confused to know how to begin.

2015: Blog Highlights, Favorite Toys, & Future Plans

2015 was a truly amazing year for EROcentric.

I finally decided to take the blog to a more professional level by purchasing my own domain & getting business cards printed. I joined my local Sex Geekdom group. I embarked on my first #SexBloggerVaca, taking a self-organized tour of sex-positive attractions in New York City.  I bonded with members of the #BlogSquad at Woodhull’s Sexual Freedom Summit, where I was no longer “the weird sex girl.” I was just Mandi — in all my quiet, socially awkward glory.

I also connected with a ton of really awesome companies. I started reviewing for a few of my lovely affiliates: SheVibe, Tantus, & Peepshow Toys. I wrote additional reviews for Good Clean Love, Traz Rhino, & L’amourose. (On top of continuing reviews for Good Vibrations.)  And I became a new affiliate of both SexyTimeToys & Lovehoney (reviews in the works).

kinkly2015badge

I was selected as Kinkly‘s Sex Blogger of the Month in January. I was named one of their Top 100 Sex Blogging Superheroes for the second year running. (This time at #26!) And I contributed to their new book, Sex Hacks: Over 100 Tricks, Shortcuts, and Secrets to Set Your Sex Life on Fire, scheduled to be released on January 19th. I was also chosen as one of Beck’s Top 25 Bloggers of 2015. My post, I am a Sex Blogger & I Reject Pseudonymity, was even selected as one of the Top 3 Posts for Elust #70.

I published a total of 61 posts. My most popular of which were…

  • 2015 most popularMy review for the Traz Rhino Sleek & Genesis penis extenders/masturbation sleeves. Although they weren’t right for my partner & I, I’m incredibly happy to see my review helping so many of my readers.
  • Sensation Play: Blindfolds, Hot Wax, and Feathers, Oh My!  where I describe what “sensation play” is — including temperature play & sensory deprivation — and provide a few ideas for how to incorporate it into your sexual activities.
  • And for the second year running, my review of the We-Vibe Thrill. Apparently, it doesn’t matter if this toy is discontinued or not. And it doesn’t matter that it did not work for my anatomy. People are curious about this little smiling dual vibrator. Perhaps We-Vibe should try again??

Although I only started filling my dedicated sex toy storage last year, a few of the drawers are already nearing maximum capacity. And although I have not personally enjoyed several toys, I haven’t run into very many that I would describe as completely abysmal either. Because of this (and in order to remain positive), I’ll simply stick to naming a few of my favorites from 2015. Keep in mind that these are new to me; they are not necessarily new releases.

2015 favorites

  • We-Vibe Tango: Even despite its poor battery life & propensity to die prematurely, this remains my #1 (non-wand) clitoral vibrator. It’s the perfect size for remaining unobtrusive during partnered sex and the deep, rumbly vibrations are a godsend for a power queen like myself.
  • Jopen Key Comet II: This was the first toy to really make my G-spot sing. The swooping curve & bulbous head (along with the added vibrations) provide intense stimulation that, when rolled side-to-side over my G-spot, overwhelms my body with pleasure. This toy helps bring me to incredibly strong blended orgasms, and I see it remaining a favorite of mine for years to come.
  • Good Clean Love – Almost Naked: Not a toy, but an important sexual tool nonetheless. I described this lubricant as “gloriously squishy” and was super impressed with its magical, gravity-defying staying power. It has quickly surpassed all other water-based lubricants in my arsenal and I doubt that I will ever be without a tube.

What’s in store for 2016?

2016 upcoming reviewsFirst of all, I’m going to work really hard to catch up on my pending reviews, including: the Luxe Mio by Blush Novelties, the Perfect Plug Kit by Tantus, Lovehoney’s Main Squeeze Heavy Double Kegel Balls, and the Rosa Rouge & Prism VII by L’amourose. There’s also a few other self-purchased toys that I have neglected to review in the last year, but still really want to rave about.

I’m going to try again to record my orgasms & sexual activity, which will hopefully lead to a very nerdy infographic post in another year’s time. I would also like to get back to writing more non-review posts, which I took a bit of a break from during 2015. I’m still considering doing videos as well…if I ever find my bravery.

Most of all, I want to continue to put myself out there and get more involved in the sex-positive community — both locally & globally. I’m starting my own sex & gender book/film club with a few like-minded friends. I would like to find an organization where I could volunteer while I am figuring out how to achieve my more professional goals. I plan on attending some local kink meet-ups & workshops. I really want to try a pole dancing class. And of course, I’m looking forward to attending Woodhull’s Sexual Freedom Summit 2016 (and perhaps even Kinky Kollege).

Here’s to another year of shamelessly writing about sex! 

My 5 Biggest Sex Toy Mistakes

I talk a lot about the importance of body-safety and general sex toy education here at EROcentric. I only review products made from high-quality materials, I only advertise for & become affiliates with manufacturers/retailers who I trust, and I try my hardest to educate my readers before they purchase a toy that may cause them harm — or at the very least, be completely wrong for their bodies.

Why? Because I’ve personally experienced negative effects from toxic, porous, latex-laden, cheap ass sex toys. And I’ve also spent a small fortune on certain luxury items, assuming that “expensive” must be synonymous with “mind-blowing”… only to be left with a useless paperweight.  

neonluv

luvtouchcircleThis was my very first vibrator, before I knew anything about Pipedream and their disgustingly sexist & racist business practices. I chose it because it was small and under $20. To be fair, it held up pretty well. I had it for over a year before the thin, transparent coating (polyurethane?) began to flake & peel off the exterior of the vibe. At this point, I immediately should have thrown it away. Unfortunately, I had no idea that sex toys could be porous and that this flimsy layer was all that had been protecting me from bacteria growth.

Eventually, a black spot formed under the bright pink surface. At first, I thought that the toy was over-heating and burning through the plastic from the inside out. Then I found blogs like Lilly‘s and learned that the black spot was more likely mold. Cue revulsion.

Moral of the Story: Educate yourself about sex toy materials. Do not rely on sex toy manufacturers being honest & trustworthy with their advertising or packaging. Learn how to differentiate between materials and know what the “warning signs” are for toxic and porous toys.

blackmamba

sheathcircleMy partner & I had been curious about experimenting with size, but we couldn’t find many silicone penis extenders — and to be honest, we weren’t sure that we wanted to spend a fortune on a product that could be completely wrong for us. We settled for this TPE sheath because although it would be porous, I figured that it should at least be phthalate-free.

We only used this toy once — because it was a complete disaster. Within the first few minutes, the strap that is supposed to wrap around the testicles (holding the extension in place) snapped in half. It was only downhill from there. While attempting to have PIV intercourse, I noticed a horrible burning sensation in my vagina. I shrugged it off for a while, telling myself that it was simply from being stretched. But those two sensations are different.

Finally it clicked: I had felt that same burning before, back when my partner & I used latex condoms. Although I have no proof that this toy contained latex (in theory, most TPE should not), I also have no other explanation for the pain…unless I was experiencing mild chemical burn from some other additive.

Moral of the Story: Be proactive for your own health and listen to your body. If you have allergies, find out what ingredients are in your sex toys & lubricants and aim for only hypoallergenic materials. If you notice a negative reaction, talk to your doctor, seek out similar experiences online, try to narrow down the issue so that it can be avoided in the future. Remember: YOU are not the problem.

probe2

probecircle

I understand that silicone is expensive and more time-consuming for manufacturers to use. And I understand that companies who traditionally sell very cheap sex toys worry that their customers will not spend big bucks on higher quality (especially when they continue to misinform & mislead those customers). I could almost give them a pass on cutting corners with the interior of their silicone toys. After all, it should never come into contact with the body.

But when something is advertised as “pure silicone” or “100% silicone”… I expect it to be silicone all the way down to the core; not full of foam, curious plastic chunks, or (most disturbing of all) rags.

A photo posted by Mandi (@erocentric) on

There’s also one other problem with this particular anal toy: the base is ridiculously small & extremely flexible. I consider myself very lucky that I never had to go to the emergency room to get this probe removed from my body. Knowing what I know now, I do not consider this toy safe for anal play and it upsets me that it was even created.

Moral of the Story: Again, don’t always trust what companies tell you on their advertising or packaging. Do research into a company’s reputation online — especially with sex bloggers. And for the love of butts everywhere, if a toy doesn’t have a large, sturdy base…don’t risk it.

evolved

evolvedcircle-2Generally, I think that Evolved creates some decent cheap silicone products. However, my experience is an important lesson in warranties, replacements, and consumer options when products malfunction.

Immediately after purchasing this bullet vibe from my local Cirilla’s, I inserted the small watch batteries that were included and turned it on. It buzzed for a few seconds… but then shorted out completely. I never even got to use it.

At the time, I didn’t know what to do with my broken little sex toy. I knew that you couldn’t return these items to the store and honestly, I was too embarrassed to start contacting the company online to find out what my options were and how to get a replacement. (That’s right, folks. I was not always the brazen sexual creature that you see today.) In the end, I simply ate the $20 that I wasted on this toy and tossed it in the trash.

Moral of the Story: Find out what type of warranty manufacturers have for their products. In this case, Evolved does allow you to send back faulty or defective items — with or without a receipt & original packaging. Don’t let sexual shame get in the way of your right to pleasure! The people in this industry talk about sex toys and sexuality every day. You will not seem weird, perverted, or hypersexual simply because you purchased a sex toy and you want it to work.

lelolily

lilycircleObviously, this is the odd man out — but I wanted to prove that just because a toy is body-safe and “luxurious,” that doesn’t mean that it’s necessarily good or that it will do anything for your particular body or sexual anatomy.

The Lily was my first serious, body-safe sex toy purchase. I spent months drooling over its form, learning about Lelo and their high-quality products. I based my purchase largely off of one glowing review, without knowing what else worked for that person or if my body was similar. I tracked (what I thought was) the best deal and ended up spending approximately $90. When my beautiful Lily arrived, my clitoris was entirely unamused. The vibrations were so weak that I wondered if it was defective. (You can read my full review here, but know that the more toys I get introduced to the more I regret this particular purchase.)

The letdown was huge and it definitely deterred me from purchasing other expensive, body-safe sex toys for a long time. I felt like there must be something wrong with my body for needing so much more power. In fact, one of the next toys I purchased was the Hitachi because I kept reading that it was the most powerful toy out there — and I was convinced that was what I needed. (Turns out: Yes, the Hitachi Magic Wand is absolutely wonderful, but I can also orgasm from less powerful vibrations.)

Moral of the Story: Even if you’re purchasing a toy that is body-safe & produced by a trustworthy manufacturer, it helps to know your body. Of course, this is more difficult if you’re just beginning to experiment with sex toys; even us “experts” mistakingly assume that a toy will produce fireworks only to find that it barely even sparkles. Still, it helps to read as many reviews as you can find. Try to discover a toy reviewer who shares a similar body type or sexual response as you. Are you easy to orgasm? Is your clitoris buried by your labia? Will your anatomy even work with that rabbit vibrator? More often than not, one size does not fit all.


One of the biggest sex toy shopping seasons is upon us! Check out my Introduction to Sex Toy Safety5 Tips for Getting Quality Sex Toys for Lessmy Toybox (for a list of reviews), and the current Sales & Deals of my wonderful affiliates. Enjoy your purchases; Don’t make the same silly mistakes that I did. 

Confession: I Had Painful Sex…And I Didn’t Say a Word

It’s been a quiet month here at EROcentric. My review schedule remains outdated & untouched and I haven’t had the motivation or the emotional fortitude to admit what’s been going on with my sex life — to myself, my partner, or to my readers. But the more I tried to push down my emotions, the more they needed to find validation within actual words.

The truth is… My partner and I have had sex exactly once in the last month and my number of masturbation sessions is not much higher.littlebackstoryIt started as my last menstrual cycle came to an end. I could feel that something wasn’t quite right with my body, and before long I noticed the telltale signs of a yeast infection. I purchased the dreaded Monistat (I’m never quite sure what feels more uncomfortable: a yeast infection or the treatment for one), stocked the fridge with yogurt, and started drinking enough water to have me running to the restroom every hour. Compared to yeast infections of my past, this one actually surrendered without much of a fight.

When I finally allowed myself to masturbate again, the results were lackluster at best & mildly uncomfortable at worst. The lubricant stung, thrusting felt abrasive, and arousal was nonexistent. At this point, I hadn’t had sex for about 2 weeks — and it suddenly went from something that I was longing for to something that I needed to simply push out of my mind.

I should point out that two weeks without sex has not been exceptionally rare for me over the last few years. I’ve been fairly open about my struggle with low libido & my efforts to determine what it means for my own sexuality while also forming a plan of action with my “high libido” partner. It’s been the topic of many tearful conversations, but we’ve finally been seeing some real progress… until this particular set back.

I could tell that the lack of physical intimacy was beginning to wear on my partner, even though our emotional intimacy was still high. I just couldn’t find the words to talk with him about this. All I knew was that my body wasn’t cooperating and my mind had shut itself off from any sexual thoughts. Anything more than cuddles felt like a request that I simply couldn’t handle, and the guilt & shame was too overwhelming to let him in. All he knew was that I had stopped expressing love in a way that is very meaningful to him.tippingpointFinally, after 3 weeks of no sex and a growing distance between the two of us, I was desperate. Desperate for a connection. Desperate to feel normal again. I tried to initiate foreplay and get into the mood, but I felt detached from my body…and as intercourse followed, the pain set in.

As someone who advocates for sex positivity, consent education, and open sexual communication, you’d think that I would have spoken up — but I didn’t. I hid my pain in the darkness, clenched my fists, and waited it out. And once it was over, I cried.

Yes, I cried because the burning pain of a thousand suns was trapped within my vagina. But I also cried because after so long without sex, I felt like I had ruined everything. I cried because I felt guilty that I didn’t communicate, and therefore put my partner in a very awkward situation. I cried because I didn’t know what was wrong with my body or my sex drive. …I cried because my shame suddenly became a river that I was drowning in.repeatoffenderThis entire situation has made me realize that this isn’t the first time I’ve made the mistake of not speaking up. In fact, it’s something that I now recognize I need to work on.

During one of my first D/s scenes with my current partner, I felt uncomfortable and emotionally shut down instead of using my safeword. I fell asleep feeling bitter & angry that he didn’t read my mind, while he was confused and assumed that he had done something to lose me completely.

I’ll also commonly grit my teeth & bear the last few thrusts of intercourse in the doggy style position, even though my partner is painfully bumping against my cervix. I don’t want to speak up, because I know he’s close and I’d hate to ruin his orgasm. I do this continually, even though I know he’d rather me speak up because he hates the idea of me being in pain.

It’s not “no” that I have trouble with; It’s “stop.” My pride gets in the way. I have an impossibly hard time asking for help or asserting my needs. I want to prove that I can take anything. I don’t want to appear weak. But it causes much more trouble than being honest with myself & my partner.wherenowHonestly, I’m nervous to have sex again. I’m afraid of the pain still being present. And even though my partner & I have since discussed what happened in much more detail, I’m still scared that sex will be awkward as a result of my communication failure.

The entire mess is contributing to a lack of libido that is more intensely depressing & debilitating than any dry spell I’ve ever experienced before. Although I have ideas on how to move forward, I don’t feel confidant that I’m actually moving in the right direction. I find myself fearing that not only has my libido dropped, but my arousal & enjoyment of sex has as well.

I have to keep reminding myself of the good in this situation: that the crying actually forced me to open up again & it cleared the air between us in the bedroom. That I have recognized an area where I need to focus energy & we’re now facing this problem as a team instead of separate & alone. I also have to remember that being “sex positive” isn’t about having great sex — and it doesn’t mean that I’ll never make mistakes. Sometimes sex is bad, but that doesn’t mean that it always will be. And it doesn’t have to mean that I’ve done irreparable harm to my relationship either.

So, what can you expect from EROcentric in the coming weeks? Unfortunately, I’m not sure. Will my body start cooperating, allowing me to finish reviewing the wonderful products that have so far gone untouched? Will this hiccup in my sexuality allow me to write a couple of non-review articles that I’ve been excited about but haven’t found time for?

At this point, all I can promise is that I am still here & I’m not giving up on this journey.