When I was a teenager, conversations with my friends about our vulvas made me question whether mine was normal, so I asked my mother for a reality check. At an age that was embarrassingly old to do this, I climbed on top of my dining room table and went into a full spread eagle, allowing my mom a bird’s-eye view. My mom reassured me that I was perfectly normal—if petite—in that area. 

Since then, I’ve discovered that I am not alone in my anxiety. In the research-focused journal “Body Image,” author Breanne Fahs wrote that “the increasing publicity around having a ‘designer vagina’—that is, perfectly symmetrical inner labia, a ‘tight’ vagina, and attractive and hairless outer labia,” has resulted in increasing insecurities.

But if so many vulva-having people are self-conscious, and the lack of representation in porn does little to counteract that, how are we supposed to build confidence in our most sensitive parts? I spoke with five women to learn if they’ve been able to overcome similar insecurities about their vulvas—and, if so, how they were able to do it.

As the child of a medical professional, Ashley* grew up knowing the difference between her “vagina” and “vulva.” Even so, when she first took a mirror downstairs to get a good look, it was nothing like she expected from the porn she had stolen glances at. “I had a small moment in time where I was embarrassed that it didn't look like the women on screen because those were the only vulvas I had seen outside of my own,” she told me. She would ritualistically check the mirror each week to see if her vulva had become “cooler,” but nothing changed. Over time, though, Ashley learned to feel comfortable with her differences. “I now know that she is different and that there is great importance in loving, pleasing, and caring for her.”

Raised in a religious, traditional household, Lindsay* feared her vulva “from a young age, as thoughts of sex and self-pleasure were absolutely off limits.” When she entered her first relationship with a woman, her girlfriend’s teasing about the shape of her labia made her “more hesitant in actually liking [her] vulva because it wasn’t ‘perfect.’” But, thanks to a random hookup, she gained a “new appreciation” for her vulva. Now, in her current relationship, she’s been able to move past the insecurities and fully enjoy sex. “Basically,” she told me, “I think my vulva and I are in a much better place than we were 10 years ago.”

For some, surgery is the path to an improved vaginal self-image. Casey’s* insecurities about her vulva were getting in the way of her enjoyment of sex, and no amount of external validation would change that. Since her labiaplasty, she told me that she feels more sexually confident. She said, “If women can feel good about their vaginas without surgery, then awesome—especially since insecurities are probably the product of stupid social pressures and unrealistic expectations perpetuated by porn.” But for Casey, the surgery has had a positive impact.

A very different surgery gave Megan* the opportunity to love her body in its entirety. Though, she told me, gender-affirmation surgery is incredibly painful, “when you’ve suffered for something you want, you either work at loving the outcome or you go absolutely crazy.” So she went along with months of follow-up procedures, knowing that they’d bring her closer to loving the area she once found “repugnant,” even as they created a “dissonance between [her] vulva and actual feelings of sexual pleasure.” Since then, she’s reconnected with her sexuality through exclusive parties and experimental dance.

For Jessica*, her vulva “could be a model for what that whole situation is ‘supposed’ to look like.” But problems arose when she married a man who desperately wanted children; something she wasn’t so sure about. With a diagnosis of polycystic ovarian syndrome, conception has been difficult—and the stress has been weighing on their marriage. Eventually, the routine sex simply for procreation’s sake had lost its appeal. “I had cerebrally given permission, but my body was clamping up. It was painful. I hated it.” While she understands that her husband, who has since asked for a divorce, has to advocate for what he needs to be happy, the message she takes away from her experience is that she’s not enough to salvage things. Even if her vulva is “cute and pink and attached to [her] personality.”

But Jessica, and anyone else featured in or reading this article, is enough. Whether your vulva looks straight out of a porno or you’ve never seen one like yours before; whether you’ve had surgery or decided against it; or whether you want to have children or have trouble conceiving—all of it’s okay. The appearance or perceived functionality of our vulvas and reproductive systems do not determine our value. 

There’s no right or wrong road to accepting, and eventually loving, your vulva. But as societal pressures and pornographic depictions continue leading us to question whether or not we’re normal, it becomes increasingly important to make the most of the vulva you have (or the vulva you get). So go on and celebrate it, however you see fit.

*Names have been changed to protect the privacy of the individuals.

Photo by Timothy Meinberg on Unsplash

Sarah duRivage-Jacobs is a writer, editor, and copywriter living in New York City with her creamsicle cat, Jasper.

It’s a random Tuesday. I’m at work, typing away on my computer for longer than I should without taking a break. My mouth feels dry, so I grab my water bottle and stand up. Immediately, I feel a quarter-sized blood clot squeeze its way out of my vagina, followed by a river of blood.

When I look down at my seat, there’s a dark spot spreading across the (fortunately) black fabric of my office chair. So I forget my dry mouth and rush to the bathroom, where I can see the damage my period has done. And then I tell my boss that I have to go home, because I’m having another bad period day.

Most people who bleed from their private bits have been there. It’s hard not to get a spot of blood on your pants every now and then. But it’s never just a small spot for me. I bleed through my pants as if it’s an Olympic sport and I’m going for the gold.

My periods have never been what you’d call normal, but sometime between senior year of college and that day at my desk two years ago, they became horrendous. Every time I saw a spot of red on the toilet paper, I’d prepare for war. Getting my period meant that I’d wake up five or six times during the night and waddle to the bathroom to clean myself up, sometimes trailing droplets of blood across my apartment on the way. It meant that I’d call in sick for two days, so I could be close to an endless supply of underwear and so no one at work would notice the inevitable bloody stain on my bottom. It meant that I canceled plans with friends, because no one wants to hang out with someone who has to duck into the bathroom every hour.

You’d think my life-ruining period would motivate me to check in with a doctor, because there’s clearly something wrong here. But it didn’t. I spent several years just dealing with it. I bought pads that looked like mini mattresses, I hovered over a toilet while twisting a menstrual cup into my vagina (and put a backup pad on just in case), I tried laying on a period sex blanket at night to soak up the overflow (even though I wasn’t having any sex).

I thought the bloody monsoon was something I’d always have to deal with; not normal for most people, but normal for me.

Guess what: bleeding so much that it affects the quality of your life, even for just a few days, isn’t normal for anyone. Abnormally heavy periods even have an official medical name: menorrhagia. “With menorrhagia, you can't maintain your usual activities when you have your period because you have so much blood loss and cramping,” the Mayo Clinic says. Hmm, sounds familiar. The clinic goes on to say that dreading your period because of heavy bleeding is a bad sign. And maybe you should check in with your doctor.

Eventually, I got so fed up with my periods that I did just that. My doctor told me that no, my periods definitely weren’t normal, and then referred me to an endocrinologist (a doctor who specializes in hormones). Not only did I learn that my heavy periods were caused by polycystic ovary syndrome (PCOS), but they were also exacerbating my already naturally low iron levels. I was severely anemic, and that made me tired all the time and constantly out of breath. It was a mess all around.

My doctor put me on birth control pills (which, as a lesbian, I’d never needed before) to regulate my blood flow. That was three months ago, and while the pill didn’t work a miracle to turn my loud, obnoxious periods into dainty ladies overnight, it certainly is helping. They’re getting shorter, a little bit lighter, and way more predictable. Before, I had no idea when my monstrous period would show up. Now, I know to expect it when my pills turn from yellow to brown.

So take if from me: if heavy periods are messing with your life, make the doctor appointment sooner rather than later. There’s no reason you need to suffer.

If you’re like me, you’re probably thinking that sure, your periods are heavy, but they’re not go-to-the-doctor heavy. So let’s make it clear. The symptoms, according to the Mayo Clinic, are: soaking through one or more pads or tampons every hour, needing to use double protection to control your menstrual flow, needing to wake up to change your pad, tampon, or menstrual cup during the night, bleeding for longer than a week, passing blood clots larger than a quarter, restricting daily activities due to heavy menstrual flow, and symptoms of anemia such as tiredness, fatigue, or shortness of breath.

You don’t have to have all of these symptoms at the same time for your heavy periods to “count.” The Mayo Clinic suggests checking in with your doctor even if the only symptom you have is bleeding through your pad or tampon, or overflowing your menstrual cup in one hour. Bottomline: If your periods make it impossible for you to do anything — go to work, hang out with friends, leave your house for more than an hour — then a doctor’s visit is worth it.

Our guest blogger Mika Doyle introduces us to Roo - Planned Parenthood's new sexual health chatbot - and explains how this can change the sex ed game.

When I was a kid, I had so many questions about what I was hearing in music and movies. I can still remember all the different — and completely incorrect — interpretations I had for what Alanis Morissette meant when she asked if her ex’s new girlfriend would “go down on you” in a theater in her iconic song “You Outta Know.”

The internet was just getting up and running back then, so I couldn’t turn to Google to figure out what Alanis was talking about. And I sure as heck never asked my mom. I mean, when I asked her what “sixty-nining” was, she just looked at me side-eyed and asked, “What do you think it means?” Awkward…

But today’s teens have seriously got it so much harder. The internet may have opened a wealth of information to them that people like me might not have had as kids, but it also dumps a minefield of misinformation right at their feet. And how are they supposed to figure out what’s true and what’s not?

That’s why it’s so cool to see Planned Parenthood come out with a new sexual health chatbot named Roo. It puts expert sexual health resources at teens’ fingertips 24/7, and it’s completely anonymous. And, tbh, you don’t need to be a teenager to benefit from this cool new resource.

Sexual Health Chatbot Available 24/7

Planned Parenthood designed Roo for people ages 13 to 17, but the organization says anyone can use the new chatbot to ask questions about their sexual health. You can personalize your experience by selecting from a list of gender options, which include female, male, trans man, trans woman, non-binary, name your own, or you can skip that completely and just start asking questions or select questions from a list if you’re not sure what to ask.

The chatbot will continue to evolve and be able to answer more questions on additional topics as more people interact with it, according to Planned Parenthood. Until then, if Roo can’t answer your question, it’ll connect you with other resources, including Planned Parenthood’s live educators through the organization’s chat/text program.

“We know that many young people are nervous or embarrassed to ask questions about their sexual health,” Dr. Leana Wen, president of Planned Parenthood Federation of America, said in a news release. “They often go online to get information and ask their questions anonymously. It’s important that our youth receive a reliable answer they can trust.”

The State of American Sex Education

Given that formal sex education in the United States is not standardized, it’s no wonder many people grow up to have a lot of questions about their sexual health. According to the Guttmacher Institute, more than 80 percent of teens did receive formal sexual health education between 2011 and 2013, but the focus was on abstinence and preventing STDs.

During that same time frame, only 55 percent of teen boys and 60 percent of teen girls received education on contraception, says the Guttmacher Institute. And the Guttmacher Institute says that, as of 2015, fewer than 6 percent of LGBT teens reported any positive representation of LGBT-related topics in their health classes. Because teens — especially LGBTQ teens — have so little access to quality sexual health resources, the Guttmacher Institute says they’re turning to the internet and other digital media for help.

Designed with Teens in Mind

The biggest hurdle in creating greater access to sexual health resources is eliminating the darn stigma surrounding sex. People feel embarrassed to ask questions about it. Planned Parenthood found that teens are still into texting and instant messaging, and a chatbot format gave them the same kind of format with the anonymity to ask personal, sexual health-related questions.

"Helping teens access trusted information — especially since so many young people aren't getting the sexual health education they need — makes this a rare sort of digital product," Gene Liebel, Work & Co co-founder, the company Planned Parenthood partnered with to create Roo, told Ad Age.

No matter how old you are, Roo is available to answer your questions 24/7 about your health, your body, relationships, and even services that Planned Parenthood offers. And can use it with the confidence that it’s back by actual health experts.

Our guest blogger, Laura Delarato, talks period sex - why we've been taught it's shameful, and why you need to start having orgasms every day of the month if you want. 

Oh my god, what the fuck!

Those words have chimed through my subconsciousness for years; verbally connected to a credulous man I was sleeping with when I was 24 years old who was not expecting to look down post-orgasm and find his groin and penis covered in menstrual blood. I’ll never forget that moment — it was disgust and shame and selfishness wrapped up in one ball of energy and placed right in my lap as I (equally shocked) sat up from the red spot.

Of course this was the reaction. We have been handed the narrative of disgusting menstruation for years; perpetuated by negative representations of the “that time of the month” through language and media spots — not to mention the sophomoric ways we hide the actual event behind blue liquid tampon/pad commercials to not offend. So when a person does have sex while they are on their period — or gets it right in the middle of sex — they are bringing along years of internalized stigma.

This is interesting. I have watched full-on murder scenes in film, the news will outright show graphic violence, Dr. Pimple Popper literally does full surgery on Instagram, but periods are gross and we should cover them up? The shame derives from a lot of places, but all of it tends to lead back to one location: Religion. Religious texts outline periods being impure. “Menstrual Taboos Among Major Religions”, in the Journal of World Health and Societal Politics, takes a look into how different religious texts view menstruating women. Menstruation has been used as justification to keep menstruators away from positions of authority (Christianity), sequester them (Islam), deem them poisonous (Buddhism), or just ritually unclean (Judaism), and many more. Of course, some taboos have been mowed down by science, education, empowerment, and female-driven companies, but a lot of shame still exists. We teach our prepubescent children to shame and be shamed by this outdated information. It’s a vicious cycle that then seeps into how we represent periods for the masses.

Period sex hasn’t really made it into our media zeitgeist. All I can remember is Jonah Hill’s character being tagged “Blood Brothers” with another partygoer after a woman he is dancing with gets period blood on his denim in Superbad; setting off a storm of awkward jokes and disgust. Wow. Okay, that’s a four minute scene that definitely doesn’t teach an appropriate response to a period. There is also Sansa’s first period scene in Game Of Thrones where she tries to hide the evidence as to not produce an heir for the Lannisters. And that scene in Friends when Monica does period math when she wants to have a baby. While period sex is not a full-on thing in media (except maybe this amazing moment in Crazy Ex Girlfriend), we are still left with these super intense depictions of just having a period. I’ll leave you with this well-known scene in Carrie where she is left unaware of her menstruation and taunted by her classmates because she thinks she is bleeding to death. Just, wow.

The only shame that we should acknowledge are the missed opportunities to have great sex because we’re afraid of it being gross and embarrassing. There’s more lubricant, oscillating hormones and major blood flow to the area might launch your sex drive skyward, and the orgasms reduce cramps!

Still feeling embarrassed?  Think about this: Period sex shame is, literally, man-made. It’s the patriarchy. Take that into consideration when you’re about to have period sex — every bit of information you’ve been given has directly correlated to a shame tactic for you to feel bad about your body. Own your body and your menses. You can even use this as a moment to feel more connected to your partner. Talk about fluid boundaries and mention your own comfort (cramps cramps cramps). Let this be an opportunity for both of you to strengthen your communication. Also, try different positions! Because your genitals might be more sensitive, you might be more interested in deep penetration. Experiment with this! And sure, it’s messy but so is regular sex. If you’re emotionally mature enough to touch genitalia, then you can extend that a bit more to accommodate menstruation.

So, has anything changed? We’re going in the right direction! We now have incredible TV episodes where menstruation is actually talked about i.e. Big Mouth’s Everybody Bleed, period conversations are becoming more mainstream especially as social media has expanded different POVs across the globe as a helpful resource — just YouTube search “period sex” and you’ll find a ton of people who want to talk to you about it. We’re getting there, babes.

I think a lot about that night years ago when I was 24 and totally fearful of what it meant to have period sex. I was so afraid. I internalized his complete lack of maturity into the intensely shameful story I had been told about my period. But, oddly, I don’t regret the experience. Of course, I wish I had better information to keep me secure in my body and push back on his offensive reaction. But that one singular moment allowed me to recognize the work we have to do to remove the stigma. Period sex is awesome. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.

Hey there! We're inviting Kristen Lilla, LCSW to share some wisdom around pleasure and finding pleasure in your body! Kristen is the only Certified Sex Therapist and Certified Sexuality Educator in the state of Nebraska. She is the co-author of Vaginas and Periods 101: A Pop-Up Book, available now for pre-order on Indiegogo.

What exactly do we mean when we talk about pleasure? The dictionary defines pleasure as “a feeling of happy satisfaction and enjoyment.” Sexual pleasure is a bit more difficult to define, but probably still entails feelings of satisfaction and enjoyment. It may vary from person to person and include feelings of intimacy and closeness, or refer to physical stimulation and orgasm. It’s difficult to have a singular definition of pleasure since it is such a personal experience. 

Sometimes pleasure gets a bad rep. Pleasure may be seen as indulgent or selfish, such as when we take pleasure in someone else’s misfortune or gorge an entire box of chocolate in one sitting. When this sense of bliss comes from a place of wanting revenge or instant gratification, we might feel guilty after achieving it, rather than satisfied. So how can you engage in pleasure without being selfish or feeling guilty?

Think Of The Self Care

Fortunately, pleasure can also be viewed as a healthy form of self-care, including as a way to experience intimacy on a deeper level with someone you love and care about. The practice of self-care differs from being self-indulgent or selfish because it is the necessary act of taking care of one’s self. Self-care focuses on the things we do for ourselves to alleviate stress, relieve anxiety, combat depression, and feel worth. Taking care of you is one of the most powerful ways to taking care of someone else. It is the very act of self-care that allows us to take care of other’s and to meet their needs. Just like the phrase, “put your own oxygen mask on first, before helping others,” you must take care of yourself so you have the energy to assist others.

So what might non-sexual self-care look like? It could be sipping a hot latte, taking a warm bath, planning a vacation, petting your dog, taking a yoga class, or watching a documentary. No matter which form of self-care you engage in, the intention is to unwind. What works as self-care for some, won’t work for others. Try a bunch of different things to determine what works best for you. Recognize that you will need to have a variety of choices depending on the time of day, your surroundings, and the amount of privacy you get. Being relaxed and satisfied will lead to feeling a sense of pleasure.

Perhaps engaging in self-care will allow you to be relaxed enough to engage in more erotic pleasure such as masturbation or sexual intimacy (unless that is your self-care). Pleasuring yourself can be a satisfying experience that brings about confidence, an increased sense of self, and being comfortable in your own body. Look for ways to enhance pleasuring yourself by lying in a different position, taping yourself, using a toy, or reading erotica. Consider masturbation experimentation a form of self-care!

Sex & Pleasure

Finally, there is the most stereotypical kind of pleasure, which results from sexual satisfaction with a partner, resulting in a mind-blowing orgasm. Be realistic - this is a standard we derive from Hollywood and porn, and not necessarily the best guide. When it’s achieved, it results in mutual pleasure and satisfaction, but when it sets an unrealistic expectation or puts pressure on people, it takes away the fun.

That being said, some of us take pleasure in seeing our partner experience pleasure. We might feel sexual pleasure without having an orgasm. As mentioned above, the pleasure might stem from feelings of closeness and intimacy. Use it as an opportunity to communicate and share with your partner the ways you get pleasure. You can tell them how much pleasure you get from watching the sunrise as a form of self-care and then tell them how to touch you so it makes you excited and aroused. Find out the ways your partner seeks pleasure. Then, go find pleasurable bliss together.

February is the month for luuurve, but let's face it - you might not be feeling it for any number of reasons. To bring you a shot of awesome, we're proud to feature this guest blog by the inspiring babe Virgie Tovar - author, activist and expert on fat discrimination and body image. Virgie originated the hashtag #LoseHateNotWeight, and is currently piloting the lifechanging Babecamp. She's guesting on the blog this month to share her story with the Lunaverse - about how she learned to love her awesome body and own her sexuality. Lots of love from all of us at Lunapads!

I want you to imagine me at 14: a chubby and supremely horny Mexican nerd wearing enormous off-trend glasses and cut-off shorts rolled allll the way up, watering the lawn while eating a popsicle. I was a burgeoning babe who didn’t know she was a total catch, and I spent most of my waking hours scheming about how to lose enough weight to get a boy to touch my boobs. I didn’t know it then but as a Taurus, I was ruled by Venus. I was a sexually frustrated Pentecostal Venutian stuck in a boring suburb with a bunch of fatphobic assholes.

At church I learned that sexual desire was a sin. I would lie in the bathtub often willing myself not to masturbate, and I would fail. Every time it happened I would become paralyzed with fear that the Baby Jesus had finally broken my coochie, then I would cry for an hour, pray for forgiveness and vow never ever to do that again.

At school I learned that boys didn’t like fat girls. They told me no one was ever going to touch me, date me, or love me until I lost weight. I wasn’t a delicate flower like other girls. I was big and strong.

My sexuality was fraught and confusing. Religion and fat shaming had made me too embarrassed to name my desire, and so I learned how to silence that part of me.  

I started meeting dudes and found surprisingly that I didn’t have any trouble being touched, dated, or loved. Sex began to play a crucial role in healing my relationship to my fat body.

Many years later, my inner Venus got her first break. I was up late watching TV when a commercial for a telephone personals service came on. Did I want to talk to local singles? Fuck yes. I started meeting dudes and found surprisingly that I didn’t have any trouble being touched, dated, or loved. Sex began to play a crucial role in healing my relationship to my fat body. I can honestly say that without it, I can’t imagine having made the eventual decision to stop dieting and accept my destiny as a bad ass fat babe – fat rolls, stretch marks and all.

When I started having sex, I didn’t let anyone touch my belly or my back fat, corralling their hands to the parts of me that were less squishy or more universally desirable – there was a lot of breast and ankle touching. Beyond that, though, my sexual curiosity knew no bounds.

I felt like I had bypassed some kind of sacred rule, living in a secret world that I had been taught didn’t exist.

I felt like I had bypassed some kind of sacred rule, living in a secret world that I had been taught didn’t exist, and it was that fantastical sense that allowed me more room to experiment. I had no idea there were people who either had no size-related specifications (I would later come to label these people as “normal non-bigots”) or who preferred my bigness.

Once I met a guy who really liked wrestling with women. I liked that I was bigger and stronger than him. So we went for a walk to my old elementary school on a Sunday and tussled in the grass for about 2 hours. I totally won.

I went to grad school with someone who upon graduation shyly confessed his interest in me over coffee, and then later confessed his love of my belly. I liked the idea of him lusting after my belly. Why was it any different from someone liking me because I had a cute face or nice butt? So we had epic, athletic sex on the floor of his apartment. My tummy was the star of the show.

Nowadays I like it when my lovers touch and squeeze my belly while we eat chocolate-covered alfajores in bed. I love it when my jiggly thighs get grabbed. I need my lovers to recognize my fat body and name their desire for it. Sex feels, for the most part, like an exercise in the deepest kind of embodiment.

I want to be honest and say that not every single experience was borne of a total and loving acceptance of me and my body. I don’t always need that, honestly. More than that, these experiences worked for me and changed the way I saw myself. I no longer felt like someone who had to be accepted despite her body. I began to see my body as part of the totality of my desirability. And I began to see that I had been taught that other people’s sexual desire or curiosity about my body was culturally positioned as automatically strange and wrong, but it didn’t have to be that way. It could be whatever I wanted.

Every person – no matter what their size - deserves to have an amazing sex life on their own terms. Period.

For the person reading this and thinking “oh my gosh, that’s great for you, Virg, but that could never be me,” I’d like to say: I was you once! Every person – no matter what their size - deserves to have an amazing sex life on their own terms. Period. Bodies have inherent worth and beauty. So, spend some time watching media that portrays your body positively, get acquainted with your jiggly parts, spend a little extra time in the bathtub soaping up that part of you that you have a hard time loving, write a love letter to your back fat. Revel in the body you have right now because it’s wondrous and perfect and sexy.

Photo courtesy of Andria Lo. Check out her Insta right now.

Flickr photo by carbonnyc (cc)

Hi everyone, Lisa here. As most of you know, Lunapads manufactures and sells washable cotton menstrual pads, liners and underwear. We do this because we believe that using healthy, eco-friendly menstrual products is a creative and empowering way to honor and care for ourselves and the planet.

For Madeleine, making the switch from tampons to cloth pads brought her the unexpected benefit of discovering a deeper connection with her body, too. You can listen here to her conversation with Jamye Waxman about the connection for her between period positivity and pleasure.

Lots of our customers tell us that they've had a similar experience, and that using Lunapads led them to a new found appreciation for their bodies; not just during their periods, but all throughout their cycles and every day of the month. For some of us, using sex toys is another one of the many ways we can nurture the relationships we have with our bodies. Of course, being the eco (and body!) friendly folks that we are, we want to be knowledgeable about the products we use and the effect they have on our bodies and the earth.

Unfortunately, sex toys are often made of a mystery-mix of chemicals and other ingredients not disclosed by their manufacturers - and because sex toys are classified as "novelty" items, they're not regulated by the FDA or held to the same health and safety checks that medical devices are. So, how do you choose a toy that's good for your health, and the health of the planet too? Here's some info about the different materials and options available to you.

 
"Sex is part of our lives, so any issue that concerns us out of the bedroom has implications inside it: if we recycle, buy local produce, watch our carbon use, and think ecologically in other ways, it makes sense to do the same when we make sexual choices. Our well-being and that of the earth are connected, so consider where you can go ecorotic!"  Dr. Carol Queen, Good Vibrations

True medical grade silicone toys are phthalate and pvc-free, durable, non-porous, and easy to clean - just use mild soap & warm water, then allow to dry completely before storing. Silicone toys can also be submerged in boiling water to be thoroughly sterilized, and reused for years.

Something important to note is that silicone toys are not compatible with silicone or silicone-based lubricants, which will dissolve the surface and really degrade the silicone over time. Instead, stick to natural, water-based lubes like Hathor, which we carry at Lunapads.com. Hathor Aphrodisia products are organically sourced and vegan, as well as paraben, petroleum and glycerin-free.

Glass toys are typically made of tempered, shatter-proof medical grade borosilicate glass (aka pyrex) which is a non-toxic material made of sand. Borosilicate toys are phthalate free, hypoallergenic, non-porous, and can be chilled or heated without damaging the integrity of the glass.

Other materials recommended by eco-sex aficionados include sustainably harvested wood, ceramic, and stainless steel. These materials are all very durable, which means they are less likely to end up in a landfill. When choosing a wooden toy, just be sure to look for a product that is treated with a body-safe and hypoallergenic sealant.

Jelly and soft rubber toys contain high concentrations of phthalates, which are petroleum-derived plastic / pvc softeners. These phthalates are highly volatile and easily released into the air and groundwater, and can be absorbed into your body through your skin and mucous membranes. Jelly toys are relatively inexpensive, which may make them desirable - but are they safe? There is a lot of debate around this issue, but what we do know for certain is that the use of phthalates in children's toys is restricted or outright banned in the EU, United States, Canada and Australia.

You will know if you have a toy that contains phthalates by its strong, plastic-y chemical smell and sometimes slick or oily film on the surface (eww). Some manufacturers add fragrance to mask the smell of phthalate off-gassing, which can cause irritation and allergic reactions. Jelly and soft rubber toys are extremely porous and can easily harbor bacteria and cause infections if not cleaned properly; which is pretty hard to to do since they can't be boiled.

In terms of energy use and vibrators in particular, look for toys that are rechargeable - or choose a vibrator that plugs in, since this doesn't require using disposable batteries, which equals less waste / batteries in the trash. Rechargeable toys are typically higher quality too, so they'll last years. There are even a few solar powered toys available, apparently. Anyone tried one?

Another factor to consider is where your toys are made, and that distance relative to where you live. Most sex toys are manufactured overseas. In 2005, The Guardian estimated that 70% of the world's sex toys are manufactured in China. If you're in Canada (like us) or the US, that's a very long way to travel and a hefty carbon footprint. Opt for toys that are manufactured closer to home whenever possible.

Which retailers and manufacturers do you trust for environmentally friendly and body safe sex toys?