Feature image via wikimedia.
This piece was originally published on 3/6/2017.
George Floyd was murdered on May 25, 2020, and we stand in unequivocal support of the protests and uprisings that have swept the US since that day, and against the unconscionable violence of the police and US state. We can’t continue with business as usual. We will be celebrating Pride as an uprising. This month, Autostraddle is suspending our regular schedule to focus on content related to this struggle, the fight against white supremacy and the fight for Black lives and Black futures. Instead, we’re publishing and re-highlighting work by and for Black queer and trans folks speaking to their experiences living under white supremacy and the carceral state, and work calling white people to material action.
Every time the Trump administration does something particularly enraging (so, about five times a day), I watch a gif of white supremacist Richard Spencer getting punched in the face. It reassures me that I’m not the only one at a personal boiling point with conservative rhetoric and policies, nor am I the only one ready to resort to unpopular tactics to get my point across.
With so many civil liberties under threat, it can be tempting to let our impatience for change push us to recklessness. To sign on to the first idea that’s presented, without necessarily considering whether it is truly inclusive. One of the main criticisms toward the Women’s March, for example, was that many attending had never felt compelled to stand beside underprivileged groups in the past. Many argued that creating a new movement instead of lending support to existing ones only further silenced disenfranchised groups. Education is the only way to understand this criticism and be a true accomplice in these movements.
The following list provides background on some of America’s resistance movements and resources to help us move forward in a more inclusive manner.
Written in outrage against slavery and the Mexican-American war, Thoreau’s “Civil Disobedience” essay inspired leaders like Ghandi and Dr. Martin Luther King to carry out non-violent tactics against their oppressive governments. A fairly short read, this essay collection is a great place to begin your studies. “Walking” has since been recognized as one of the pioneering documents in the conservation movement.
One of the primary criticisms of the Civil Rights movement has been its lack of recognition towards the women who helped make their progress possible. Despite their integral place in launching movements like the Montgomery Bus Boycott, women were rarely given the stage to speak their truth. In Lynne Olson’s “Freedom’s Daughters” she tells the stories of women that history often overlooks, dating pre-Civil War to 1970.
If you’re having trouble understanding the far-reaching consequences of systemic oppression and how it weaves its way through every facet of American life, The New Jim Crow by Michelle Alexander is a good place to start. The book explores how the prison industrial complex and the War on Drugs have legalized the persecution of POC and explains why tasking Obama with dismantling racism was an impossible errand.
Inspired by James Baldwin’s seminal book The Fire Next Time, National Book Award winner Jesmyn Ward shows a new generation how true his words still ring more than 50 years later with her collection of essays and poems, The Fire This Time. The text is split into three parts that tackle our history, current predicament and hopes for the future, with contributions from social critics like Keise Laymon, Isabel Wilkerson and Rachel Kaadzi Ghansah.
Released this year, renowned civil rights activist Angela Davis’ latest book, Freedom Is a Constant Struggle, dissects the legacies of past resistance movements and reflects on how they can inform our current efforts. Though heavy with research and statistics, the book clocks in under 200 pages, making it a reasonable jumping off point for understanding the intricacies of systemic racism and how far it reaches. Whether you’re a seasoned protester or just joining our ranks, Davis breaks down how you can assist movements on an individual level.
By no means a comprehensive account of the fight for marriage equality in America, Jo Becker’s Forcing the Spring zeroes in on one of the most defining court cases of our generation. She follows the aftermath of California’s Proposition 8, which failed to pass in 2008. It provides a behind-the-scene look into the five-year legal drama that ensued and reflects on how quickly public opinion shifted.
Brother, I’m Dying is a powerful family memoir that honors the sacrifices immigrants are so often forced to make and the tragedies they incur along the way. Avoiding sentiment, the biography places a microscope over an immigration case that made headlines when author Edwidge Danicat’s Uncle Joseph was detained by US customs en route from Haiti.
Julia Serano takes so-called feminists to task in her personal manifesto Whipping Girl, which chronicles her experiences as a lesbian transgender activist and professional biologist and reflects on how those paths shaped her life pre- and post-transition. Serano’s background as a professional biologist allows her to seamlessly bridge the gap between social and biological perspectives on gender, where she criticizes our artificial use of “feminine” and debunks persisting myths about transsexuality.
After you’ve finished Whipping Girl, be sure to pick up Serano’s follow up text Excluded, which criticizes queer activists for policing gender and sexuality and reflects on where these assumptions stem from. In Excluded, Serano advocates new ways of approaching sexuality, gender and sexism inclusively.
From 1969 until the U.S. Supreme Court handed down its Roe v. Wade decision legalizing abortion, a brave group of Chicago feminists provided illegal access to abortions for thousands of women under the pseudonym “Jane.” Laura Kaplan, who joined Jane in 1971 as a counselor, draws from personal recollections and interviews with Jane members and clients and the doctors who performed the abortions to provide a comprehensive history of this radical group. Understanding the important role Jane played in women’s history will prepare us as we continue to fight for women’s right to choose.
Criptiques is a thought-provoking collection of essays from a diverse group of disabled writers who offer their experiences on gender, sexuality, disability culture, ableism, and more. Featuring the work of writers like Elsa S. Henry, Ibby Grace, Leroy Moore, Anna Hamilton, Rachel Cohen-Rottenberg, Criptiques is a great resource for learning more about disability activism and justice.
By no means exhaustive, this list is a great primer for understanding the nuances within our current resistance movements and how to be an effective ally. Is there anything you’d like fellow protesters to read before joining the cause? Drop a link in the comments below!
For as long as I can remember, I’ve been a brat. When I was young, toddler-age, it was seen as an adorable quirk. Who knew such a little girl could be so stubborn and strong-willed? As I got older, I noticed a shift in tone when they called me a brat. It was often accompanied by accusations of being bossy, a drama queen, and — as I approached adolescence — a bitch. Over time I learned to read between the lines of these words. I realized that bossy was just another word for assertive, drama queen a sneaky way to repress my emotions, and bitch an attempt to make me feel small. Instead of growing out of my brattiness as my mother had always hoped I would, I decided to own it instead.
That’s not to say that I throw a tantrum when I don’t get my way or am incapable of discussing matters like an adult. I like to think of myself as more mischievous and sassy than outright rude or immature. In my day-to-day life my brattiness shows up as snark and a tendency to play devil’s advocate. It wasn’t until I entered the BDSM scene five years ago that I learned to express it in new and unexpected ways.
I’ve always gravitated to power exchange dynamics in my relationships, even before I had a language for it. My favorite fantasies involved punishment and I enjoyed egging my partner on. I craved that push and pull for control, and the vulnerability of relinquishing to my partner.
I was first introduced to the concept of brattiness in BDSM by my friend Brandon. He was working for a sex therapist and lived in a downtown warehouse with the rest of her crew. On Friday nights she hosted a radio show and he’d often invite me to attend as his guest. I was still too shy to participate at that point, but through observation I was introduced to the limitless options outside of a monogamous, vanilla lifestyle.
I realized that I wanted to be able to express my brattiness more freely in my relationships, and began looking for open-minded partners to safely explore my fantasies with. I wasn’t having much luck meeting people “the old fashioned way” and found that many of the people I did meet either had no interest in kink or saw my inexperience as an invitation to take advantage. It was around that time that I discovered Fetlife.
Fetlife is a social network for people interested or active in kink and BDSM. Membership is free, and members range from folks who live the lifestyle 24/7 to those who are just dipping their toes in. I’d spend hours reading other users’ journal entries and lurking in the various forums. I joined a group for newbies and began taking note of the more persistent advice. I attended local munches, which are basically low-pressure get togethers that are an easy way to get to know people who have similar interests without showing all of your cards right away.
As I made friends in the community, I became aware of the ever-expanding list of identities one could claim. Mary Jane (names have been changed) referred to herself as a babygirl sadist, meaning she indulged her childish side with stuffed animals and brightly colored barrettes, but enjoyed causing pain in her scenes. Pixie identified as a feral lesbian princess. I met a lot of people like them, who proudly touted seemingly contradictory labels.
For Anna, another self-identified brat, this plethora of options allowed her to find her place in BDSM. “I started out identifying as a submissive, but I was always so frustrated in scenes!” she told me. “I started to think that maybe I was a dominant, but I eventually got bored with that, too. It wasn’t until later on that I realized submission doesn’t have to be one-size-fits-all.”
I place myself towards the bottom of the power exchange spectrum. Most of the time I prefer to be in the submissive role, but I’ve been known to switch from time to time. While I enjoy a certain amount of protocol in my relationships, I’ve learned that I need a dominant who can anticipate my tendency to bend the rules, and give clear instructions that can’t be misinterpreted. It’s that extra effort that makes it feel safe for me to ultimately submit. If I can find loopholes in their protocol, it makes me feel insecure, like they haven’t thought it through. Bratting allows me to exploit these oversights in a fun and playful way, and challenges my dominant to stay one step ahead.
To some, dealing with a brat is a chore they’d rather avoid. I’ve been told by others in the kink community that I’m not a “true submissive,” and that I’m “topping from the bottom” or overstepping my role in a scene. What they don’t see are the constant behind-the-scenes negotiations between my partner and I to make sure that our scenes honor, and never diminish, our individual roles.
As another bottom-leaning brat named Sabrina told me, “Being a brat doesn’t mean I want to secretly be in control. It means that I want a Dom who can push me into submission. If I can control him just by being bratty, then I question his ability to push me and take care of me. If I can easily have him in the palm of my hand, then I don’t feel like a sub.”
In truth, being a brat makes me feel more in touch with my submission, and wrangling a brat strengthens my partner’s sense of dominance. I know that they’ll signal immediately if my antics cross over from amusing to annoying.
If I’m honest, it’s a fine line and requires a lot of communication on all ends. Dominants are people too, and just like everyone else, their patience has an end. It’s important to establish limits and be aware of any triggering behaviors that should be avoided. Before a scene, my dominant and I discuss our expectations, our moods, and anything else that might be relevant before we get started. I can tell from a look when they are not in the mood for my shenanigans, and they can tell from my tone when I’m legitimately upset versus baiting them. We don’t use spanking as a real punishment in our dynamic, so I know if they give one it’s because they’re participating in the scene, and not out of anger.
I used to think of service-oriented submission as household chores and errands, but lately I’ve begun viewing brattiness as its own kind of service. After all, our “creative disobedience” forces dominants to stay on their toes and is done with the intention of helping them improve their techniques.
In turn, we become better brats. It might not be a straightforward exchange of power, but it’s a dynamic that works for me. It reassures me that it’s okay to exist between labels, to claim contradictions, and exist outside of the box.
Like so many things, I was first introduced to the midheaven point through a meme. I follow my personal astrology fairly closely, so when I had no clue what my midheaven sign was and it supposedly represented “what I wanna be,” it sent me into a minor existential crisis. What insights have I been missing out on? What is life and have I been doing it all wrong?
To begin, the midheaven, or Medium Coeli (MC), is one of the four major angles in your birth chart and like your rising or ascendant (AC) sign, it’s determined by the time and location of your birth. Your midheaven is the highest point in the sky from the earth between the horizon line at the moment of your birth and to some it represents the North Star that helps guide our efforts.
As I did more research on what the midheaven means, I saw that some astrologers think that it can also provide insight into our relationships with our parents. My MC happens to be the same sign as my mother’s sun sign — Virgo — so I was especially intrigued.
Aside from the asteroid Ceres, my MC is the only place where Virgo appears in my chart. This is especially interesting as the placement of Ceres is also thought to reflect on the mother-child relationship, as well as our nurturing tendencies and how we grieve. Pretty eerie that the two places in my chart where my mother’s sun sign appears also happen to correspond to maternal relationships, right?
I was beginning to wade into uncharted astrological waters, so I reached out to professional astrologer Evelyn von Zuel of Astrom Council to figure out what the MC reveals about my potential mommy issues.
Evelyn explained that many of our current astrological interpretations have been passed down through patriarchal systems over the past 3,000 to 5,000 years and before people had the freedom to move between careers, family lineage represented an individual’s highest potential. Over time, as our families became less intertwined with our social reputation, the meaning of the midheaven shifted to reflect more on our career paths.
Present-day astrologers are split on how the MC relates back to our parents. According to Evelyn, “Some people say that it [represents] the mom and some people say that it’s the dad and others say that it depends on who the dominant parental figure in the household was and who molded you to be a certain person in the public eye.”
Evelyn has even had difficulty nailing it down in her personal business and admitted that she often gets it wrong. “I’ve tried sticking with a system when I read people’s charts and then I’ll be wrong. It’s really dependent on the person.”
I wondered, if the midheaven point is a reflection of our “highest potential,” could it help guide those of us who feel unfulfilled in our careers and are seeking new direction?
“The MC line sits at the entrance to the 10th house, and is associated with the planet Saturn and the house of Capricorn. It reflects career, aspirations, public reputation, and life goals. So you could say okay, this person has Virgo on their MC, they’re going to be very detail-oriented, they’re going to be focused in a field that has to do with servitude for others and wanting to help and take care of people. They’re going to be skilled at finishing up things rather than starting things. So they could start from there to figure out what they should be doing.”
Having Virgo on my MC, I felt like Evelyn was talking about me. My eye for detail was what drew me to copy editing and although I’m full of ideas, I often have trouble executing them. I also moonlight as a tarot reader, so perhaps that’s where servitude factors in. The more I considered it, the more I became convinced that my MC was not necessarily a reflection of my relationship with my mother, but of what she had modeled to me in her career.
My mother accepted her first elementary school teaching job when I was eight. She was also a single mother, so my late afternoons and sick days were often spent in her classroom observing. I learned firsthand how hard teachers work, and knew that even when she arrived home around dinner time, lesson plans would still need to be constructed, quizzes graded. Outside of her diligence, I think what stood out to me the most was how much she loved her job. She truly believed that every child had potential and more than 20 years later, I’m still stopped by former students who never hesitate to tell me that “Mrs. Dorsey was my favorite teacher!”
I wasn’t completely naive. I knew that a lot of people weren’t privileged to have a career they truly enjoyed, but seeing my mother find fulfillment in that way convinced me that I could make it happen for myself. As she moved up the ladder to eventually become principal, she showed me how we are rewarded when we follow our destined path. It’s that perseverance that motivates me as a struggling writer and pushes me to continue pursuing my dreams.
Now that I had dissected my own relationship to the MC, I asked Evelyn how it might manifest in the rest of signs. Rather than go through them one by one, it was easiest for her to break it down based on the sign’s modality — that is, whether they’re cardinal, fixed, or mutable. Cardinal signs, which include Aries, Cancer, Libra, and Capricorn, are the initiators of the zodiac. Taurus, Leo, Scorpio, Aquarius are fixed signs and have a stabilizing quality. Mutable signs are the most flexible, and include Gemini, Virgo, Sagittarius, and Pisces.
Evelyn explained that, “For cardinal signs, their expression is forward-moving, so within their career they’re going to want to be leaders, they’re going to be the ones who start things in their career sector. Capricorn is going to be the slow and steady leader of whatever they’re building and they’re going to know that it takes time, but they’re going to want to have control over how their own career plays out. In terms of Aries on the MC, they’re a cardinal sign that’s going to want to be very independent and future-oriented and not really dwell on the past.”
“Fixed signs are the ones who solidify and hunker down. They’re the ones that are going to be in it for the long haul — maybe not so much Aquarius because they change a lot — but they’re going to be more stubborn in their careers. They’ll have a goal in mind that they eventually get to, especially Taurus.”
“As far as mutable signs, they’re the ones who prefer to be a little more flexibility and have a little more movement in their careers. They might not have a linear path. They’re the ones that dissolve or dissipate or finish things.”
So what about people like me, who were ignorant to the MC’s significance until five minutes ago? Is it too late to change course?
Evelyn reassured me, saying, “For a lot of people, the MC doesn’t really come into focus until later on in their life. So if you have a career goal that doesn’t feel very realistic or manageable or seems difficult to attain, don’t get discouraged. It’s going to take time to get to that place, especially depending on the sign and where your sun is, it’s going to take some time to get there.”
Don’t feel bad if you find this information overwhelming; so many of us are just beginning to dive into the depths of our ascendant and moon signs. You’ll have to look up your entire chart to find your MC, but once you get familiar with it, let that point be your guiding star.
The sexist, racist, xenophobic, homophobic and ableist rhetoric that has come to define the Trump administration has reignited the movement behind the Equal Rights Amendment (ERA), which was first introduced in 1923, but stalled in 1982 and currently remains three states away from ratification. Led by Lina Esco, founder of the Free the Nipple movement, The Human Campaign has launched a rigorous 24-month campaign to pass the amendment, soliciting help from Washington lobbyists and celebrities, and promising disruptive protests to gain public attention and support. However, nearly 100 years after its first authoring, it’s unclear whether the ERA in its current form truly supports equal rights for all gender identities.
Surprisingly, the ERA had the support of both political parties when it was first introduced to Congress in 1923 by suffragist and women’s rights activist Alice Paul. The original language of the amendment was that “Men and women shall have equal rights throughout the United States and every place subject to its jurisdiction,” but Paul rewrote the ERA in 1943 to say “Equality of rights under the law shall not be denied or abridged by the United States or by any state on account of sex.” It was this version that was eventually passed the U.S. Senate and then the House of Representatives, and on March 22, 1972, was sent to the states for ratification. By 1977, the amendment had received 35 of the necessary 38 state ratifications. In 1978, a joint resolution of Congress extended the ratification deadline to June 30, 1982.
Jimmy Carter signs extension for Equal Rights Amendment ratification
Conservative Republican activist Phyllis Schlafly led the charge against the ERA, arguing for traditional gender roles and alleging that the amendment would repeal protective laws such as alimony and make it difficult for mothers to obtain custody of their children in divorce cases. Schlafly, and others who opposed the ERA, claimed that single-sex bathrooms would be eliminated and that women would be required to enlist in the draft. Their propaganda worked, and in 1980 the Republican party removed support for the ERA from their platform.
After the extended 1982 deadline came and went, the fight to add the ERA as the 27th Amendment to the U.S. Constitution was delayed indefinitely, though it’s been introduced before every session of Congress since. Esco began her campaign to get the ERA ratified during the Obama administration, but found little support on Capitol Hill. It was the election of Donald Trump that lit a new fire under activists’ asses, and in an interview with Mic, Esco said, “Everybody was in survival mode, like, ‘What can I do?’ Everybody was on edge. So there’s no better time to try to get the Equal Rights Amendment in the Constitution than right now.”
Perhaps it was that frustration that led Nevada’s democratic-controlled State Senate to finally pass the ERA on Wednesday, March 15. The amendment is expected to pass through the State Assembly as well, which will make Nevada the 36th state to ratify. However, Democrats and Republicans alike still question the efficacy of the amendment and argue that the same protections are currently offered under the 14th Amendment. Ironically enough, late Associate Justice Antonin Scalia disagreed with that argument, once stating that “The Constitution does not protect women from sexual discrimination. No one ever thought that’s what it meant. No one ever voted for that.”
While we’re on the topic of the Supreme Court, it’s important to consider the consequences of putting gender equality issues in the hands of nine Supreme Court Justices, particularly under a Trump presidency. There’s also the issue of the ERA’s long expired deadline, which conservatives will no doubt argue makes the amendment invalid. The “Madison Amendment,” which became the 27th amendment in 1992, 203 years after it was first introduced, offers some hope that Congress has the power to uphold the ERA should it meet the 38 state qualification.
The Human Campaign’s 24-month crusade is ambitious, but if feminist activists continue stepping up, it just might work. Millions of people around the world participated in the Women’s March on the day after Trump’s inauguration, and on March 8th rallies erupted across the country for International Women’s Day. With public engagement reaching an all-time high, it’s likely that progressives will put their weight behind the ERA and push the remaining states to ratify. The ERA has the potential to address issues such as disparities in pay, sex discrimination cases, sexual assault, unequal access to health care, poverty, and paid maternity leave, but it remains to be seen whether it will go far enough to secure equality for all.
The language on The Human Campaign’s website speaks only of recognizing women and men as equals and does not mention how trans and gender nonconforming people will be supported by the amendment. It vaguely mentions partnerships with “gender equality” (quotes are theirs, not mine) organizations, but doesn’t provide additional information. Given the escalating violence against trans communities and the fact that the Trump administration has already rescinded Obama’s protections for trans students in public schools, the oversight is impossible to ignore. It makes one wonder whether The Human Campaign’s organizers purposefully included binary language in order to speed their movement along and garner more widespread support.
For now, the answer is: we’ll see. We’ll see whether Nevada becomes the 36th state to ratify the ERA. We’ll see how The Human Campaign unfolds and who their “gender equality” partners turn out to be. We’ll see how the public responds to this movement and whether they demand the amendment be changed to reflect our expanded views on gender.
The renewed fight behind the ERA stems from an admirable intention, but as we all know, impact outweighs intention, and it’s still unclear what the impact will be.
Welcome to Be The Change, a series on grassroots activism, community organizing, and the fundamentals of fighting for justice. Primarily instructional and sometimes theoretical, this series creates space to share tips, learn skills, and discuss “walking the walk” as intersectional queer feminists.
We’re just a month into Trump’s presidency and I am stressed out. Every day it seems like there’s a new controversy or terrifyingly regressive Executive Order being passed and it’s been a challenge balancing self-care with staying informed. We’ve potentially got another four years of this bullsh*t and we can’t afford to burn out.
As we move forward it’s essential that our efforts be collaborative and creative. It can be difficult to motivate yourself to keep ringing the perpetually busy lines of local representatives, but a phone party with friends helps hold everyone accountable. That’s how I came up with the idea to create a mind map for activism. I couldn’t be the only one who was feeling overwhelmed, and creating a mind map with friends would give us an opportunity to bounce ideas and strategize together.
For those who are unfamiliar, a mind map is a diagram that connects information around a central subject and is especially useful in organizing thoughts. If you’re already meeting up for a postcard, tweet, or phone your representative party, try taking a creative break to explore other ways to manifest your activism.
I’ve been making so many protest posters lately, I decided to make this a no-budget craft and used the blank side of one for this project.
First I decided on a central theme. I chose “Still We Rise 2017″ because I wanted to concentrate on what I’d be doing over the rest of this year and I wanted to emphasize resilience.
There’s obviously no shortage of issues to tackle, but I decided to concentrate on a few rather than spread myself too thin. I summarized them as Women’s Health, Black Lives, No Human is Illegal, and Community.
Next, I decided on three actions I could take to support each of those issues. This part of the exercise really forced me to examine what I was currently doing and where my efforts were falling short. I settled on actions like “Donate sanitary kits to Downtown Women’s Center” for Women’s Health and “Fact check everything before sharing online” for Community.
I like to add to my mind maps over time, so I left some space for future branches. I added a few embellishments, but you can get as creative with pictures and colors as you want. Once you’re done, perch your mind map somewhere you’ll see it often to remind you of your commitments.
Not one for arts and crafts? There are plenty of Google tools available if you prefer a tech approach to mind mapping.
feature image via shutterstock.com
Raise your hand if Valentine’s Day is just a flimsy excuse for you to expand your sex toy collection. Or perhaps if you’re single, you use the Hallmark-generated holiday to indulge in some extra self-care. Whatever the case may be, this easy DIY weed lube is the perfect way to pamper your love pocket* on V-Day.
Weed lube won’t get you high in the traditional sense. Smoking or vaping allows marijuana to be absorbed into your bloodstream immediately, but it doesn’t have the same psychoactive effects applied topically. Apply the cannabis-infused lubricant as a “pre-lube” about 45 minutes prior to getting down and dirty. I use this as an excuse to prolong foreplay, first letting my partner rub the lube all over my nether regions. Then I flip onto my stomach and we use it as a massage oil while waiting for it to take effect. When it does you’ll be flooded with warm, tingling sensations as blood flows to your private parts, allowing for heightened orgasms. The high can last for hours, and if you’re as generous with the lube as I am, you can count on being pretty slippery by the end of it.
I got my original recipe from here, but have amended it over time. Feel free to play with the ingredients and see what works best for you!
1. Combine the following ingredients in a crockpot:
2. Simmer, stirring regularly, for three to four hours.
3. Transfer the liquid into a large bowl and cool in the refrigerator.
Optional: Add a few drops of your preferred essential oil (lavender is a personal favorite) before refrigeration.
4. Once the liquid begins to solidify (after about 30 minutes) take out your beaters and whip it real good until it’s nice and smooth.
5. Transfer into a small glass jar and label accordingly.
6. Storage depends on your preference, but I like keeping it in the refrigerator and taking it out approximately half an hour before sexy times begin. Just make sure that it’s out of reach of children and pets.
And voila, you’re done! The entire recipe should run you about $20 and yields I don’t even know how many servings since I’m still using my first batch that I made over a year ago. I test it frequently (for science) and can confirm that potency remains the same. If you’re not into DIY, there are plenty of brands that will make weed lube for you. California and Colorado residents can check out Foria Pleasure for similar products.
As if weed-induced orgasms weren’t enough, you can also use the lube for topical pain management on menstrual cramps and similar muscle aches and pains. Simply rub it on the affected area until you feel relief and reapply as needed.
Happy orgasms — I mean, Valentine’s Day! Wink wink.
Safety precaution: This lube should not be used with latex condoms as coconut oil causes latex to degrade.
* With thanks to Luvvie Ajayi of AwesomelyLuvvie.com for coining the term “love pocket.”