Indigo goes to Woodhull 2017

12 out of 10, because fuck da police. I do what I want.
This year, I was presented with the opportunity to volunteer at Woodhull Sexual Freedom Summit, which is hosted by the Woodhull Freedom Foundation. I was thrilled to have this opportunity not only because I’m an aspiring sex therapist and blogger, but also because I am a sex enthusiast. I heard about the summit from Epiphora’s site originally, and I was like “That sounds cool! I’ll go if I can swing it!” Who knew it would happen so soon?
I wish I could explain how it felt walking in. Instead, I’ll have to explain the actual events. When I walked up to the desk, someone asked my name so I could collect my badge.
“I’m Indigo.”
And a lovely woman standing at the desk turned around and said “Indigo! I’m Luna from Ninjasexology! Let’s go to the blogger lounge!” And so it was that I was swept away and meeting people that I’d only seen (and admired greatly) on Twitter. After meeting so many amazing folks all at once, I was fairly overwhelmed, but it was only the first day and I had a Meet’n’Greet to help with.
Since it was being hosted by Lilly (of Dangerous Lilly) and Suz (of Red Hot Suz), I got to meet them too! I thought I would meet these folks in a year or more of blogging, and I certainly never thought they would know my name after one day. But here we are now, and I’m friends with these amazing folks, and I didn’t fangirl once. Or more than once, anyway.
Since I wasn’t staying in the hotel, I had to drive home every night. Looking back, I realize now that it was good for me to have that this time. I felt that this drive centered me every night. I could call my love and tell him what I did, and really hash over all my emotions. It was very nice. Also, if I didn’t physically leave, I probably would have stayed up all night talking to these humans who are as enthusiatic (if not more so) about sex as me!
On Friday, my highlight was definitely watching the Blog Squad destroy a terrible panel on sex toy safety, which Ruby posted about later that week! I was a little burned out after a cool panel on making a sex conference and socializing, so I watched the Blog Squad through twitter and I cheered at every vicious tweet!
Somewhere in there, I heard about #fistmas, and planned to attend. Alas, I was very tired and went home early instead. However, I heard that my good friend Sugar was thoroughly satisfied, and I am DELIGHTED for them.
Saturday proved one of the most amazing days for me. I volunteered early on for a talk from Ducky Doolittle about the sexual health of foster kids, and I expected it to be really good, but I did not expect for it to light a fire under my ass and want to work as hard as possible on the next stage of my career. Ducky’s talk was not only eye-opening, but it was encouraging and educating. I learned a lot of facts that I didn’t know before and the way she presented them was in a way that told me exactly how I can help. As someone who pursues their career specifically to help others, this is the best way to impart information. I tweeted out so many good quotes from this. (Please ignore my typos. You still can’t edit tweets…)
After this talk, I was a little drained, and instead of being productive, I colored a lot! It was a much-needed rest from the hard thinking and truth-bombs of the morning. After I was done coloring, I did a puzzle and Suz helped!
And then it was suddenly time for another volunteer shift, which was nice for socializing, but not necessarily worth writing about. So I’ll fast forward to Spanks-giving!
Much like we had Fistmas on Friday, I decided that this party should be named Spanksgiving in honor of out lovely holiday theme for names. In this party, I was hit by two folks that I do not have a romantic relationship with. That was a first for me. In the past, kink has been tied to sex by nature. However, in my current monogamish relationship, I am allowed to have some kink scenes outside of our bedroom. It was eye-opening to be dommed by folks who are so experienced, and bred trust so easily with me. I have much exchanging of information to do with boyfriend so that I can bring new things in to our dynamic and I’m really excited. We are still budding in our dynamics and relationship, and I’m excited to find more with my long-term partner.
Sunday was definitely the hardest of the days. Most folx left early, but I got to say goodbye to almost everyone. It was so great to watch all these people kissing and making out as a farewell. The openness of humans never ceases to amaze me. I’m so closed off and I don’t trust easily, so I adore it when other folx are open and loving. I could go on for ages about this, so let me just do a quick wrap up instead.
Woodhull was amazing for one main reason: Everyone there was so open and welcoming. I don’t think I’ve ever made friends in a group faster than the bloggers at Woodhull. And not just folx I’ve interacted with like Taryn, Bex, and Epiphora. I made contacts with folx that barely knew I existed like Carly, Emmeline, and Luna! (No offense, friends. I don’t get out much, which is why I didn’t know you existed.)
Next year, I hope to return to Woodhull and stay in the hotel. I want to connect with folx in a deeper way and really make some new friendships. I also hope to get some sponsorship so that I can really live it up and party more (Hey companies, hit me up next time).
If you went to Woodhull this year and wanted to connect more, let me know! I’m on Twitter all year long! Did you have a good story I missed?

Indigo Tries the Njoy Pure Wand!

2 out of 10,
then 8 out of 10.
Buy it from my friends at Peepshow Toys, or Betty’s Toybox!
Pairs really well with a top-shelf martini. Everyone’s heard of it, and it’s great for a lot of people, but it’s not so great for others sometimes, and you have to learn how you order, and how to sip it right.
The Pure Wand is a toy that comes highly recommended by a lot of bloggers out there. I had a HUGE learning curve with this toy. (Eh? Eh?) It was heavy and it had weird angles to it because it’s essentially this little open parenthesis with knobs. I held it in my hand, examining the weight and the curve. I thought to myself, “will this really revolutionize my sex life?”
The answer is different than one might expect.
At first, I used it and I really disliked this toy. I’ve always been a human who ejaculates, thanks to my first dildo. I’ve never had trouble making a mess after masturbation sessions and grumbling about having to wash the sheets. Again. (If anyone wants to buy me a Liberator Throe, I have paypal.) So when I bought this toy for myself, I expected to have SO MUCH EJACULATE. Instead, it was kind of painful. The curve stretched my hymen too far down. But any other way I held it, I couldn’t get the angle to feel nice. The large end felt too big to fit comfortably even with a little warm-up. (It is worth noting that I already owned the Colours Pride at this point, so size wasn’t really an issue otherwise.
It’s also really heavy. Guys, this toy is stainless steel. It’s a lot for my hand to hold, let alone my posterior vaginal wall. I love that’s it’s easy to clean, and can be used with any lube, but damn, is it a lot to take on.
I was really confused by this occurrence. I almost felt betrayed by the Pure Wand because I was sure I would be great with it. I was going to be the best at the Pure Wand. And when it hurt, I stopped trying. It wasn’t worth pushing my body to make this metal contraption work for me.
But one day, I looked at some reviews. They kept mentioning the Pure Wand and how it was so great. So I pulled it out again and used the small side with a vibe on my clit. It actually felt good this time, which was astonishing to me. I found an angle that activated my g-spot and it also didn’t hurt. I came with it, but it was an average orgasm. Nothing special.

How is this NOT special to me? It’s SO SHINY.

Later, I made it a goal. I would learn how to squirt with the Pure Wand because I know it changed to many people’s lives, and damn it, I wasn’t going to be left unchanged. In a lot of ways, I was right.
I couldn’t tell you when I managed to consistently have great orgasms with the Pure Wand. I’m not really sure what I started doing differently, and I’m not really sure if I can give anyone tips like Epiphora did. 
Instead, let me describe my life with the Pure Wand now. when I use the pure wand, I typically orgasm fast, and really hard. In terms of percentages, I would say I squirt 80% of the time I use the pure wand. That other 20% is honestly usually due to lack of hydration, time or arousal. So it could easily be 100%, but I’m not always looking for squirting.
When I pick up the Pure Wand, I expect it to be cold, calculating and give me an orgasm with not a lot of effort or romance. It’s a metal thing in the emotional sense and literal sense. Do I love using it? Yes, I think it’s reliable and fun. But it doesn’t tease me, or make me work for it. Orgasms are physically satisfying, but not emotionally. But it’s not like a quickie either. It’s usually too messy to be a quick session. But I do use it regularly for the good qualities.
I also have a few negatives to mention with the Pure Wand. It’s prices usually around $100, which can make it a bit steep for some people. Especially since there’s such a learning curve with this toy. It’s completely worth that money, don’t get me wrong. But not everyone can afford a Pure Wand, and there are alternatives for g-spot toys, which are cheaper. The weight is still a lot for me, and I love toys that have firmness, but I think glass is the better option for me. Lighter, but still firm.

Indigo is Fat.

15 out of 10. Fat is great.
Also, being your own weight is 15 out of 10. You’re fantastic as you are.
Pairs well with whatever kind of drink you want. I support your life choices, as long as you support mine.
Content Warning: Disordered Eating, Ableist and Fatphobic slurs at a child. 
At Woodhull, I attended a panel called “Health at Every Size,” which addressed fatphobia in the sex industry (as it is in all industries). The room was filled with folks assigned female at birth, and 2-3 cis men. We were invited to share our experiences of when we first felt our bodies were wrong.
Now, I want to address disabilities before I go on. No one in that room spoke to disabilities. The speaker was not disabled, and so did not feel qualified to address it. Though that is a conversation that needs to be had, it was not the focus of this room. I have no disabilities, so I cannot speak to that issue, and would not presume to do so. 
So many folks raised their hands and had a story that involved a parent or a family member. So many folks had stories about friends. Not one person who shared a story mentioned being over the age of 14. The youngest was five. I’m not a scientist. This was not a scientific study. But if you put 30 folks in a room and they have stories from 5 to 14, I believe that’s called a depressing range. The average age of “feeling fat” for the first time was 9. That means that nine-year-olds across this country are being socialized to hate themselves.
I will tell my story. At the age of 9, I was in my fourth grade classroom and I scratched my stomach. It raised my shirt a little and a classmate saw it. I felt her judgement from that moment, but it was ignored politely and we moved on. Later that day, another classmate came up and said “I heard Human A saw that you pulled up your shirt and there was just fat.” There was such clear disgust in her voice, and I suddenly realized: I am fat. And because of that, I am morally less than everyone else. I lied about the whole thing, and I didn’t make eye contact with my peers for a week. One full week of isolating myself because I was fat. Let me remind you again: I was nine. years. old.
This story was repeated in various ways around the room. “My parents,” “my sister,” “my friends,” “my loved ones.” All of us feeling in our bones the crushing weight of our scales.
One Christmas break, I spent a week not eating. When I was hungry, I would drink a bottle of water and play an exercise-based game. I lost 10 pounds in that week. I was cold for a month after and I shook constantly. With no one around to help me, I was taking my health and throwing it away. Until last year, I would have told you it was the best week of my life. Because I had will power for one whole week. I lost weight for one whole week. I wasn’t willfully fat for one whole week.
Somewhere along the way, I lost my ability to care. I can’t tell you how or why. I don’t really have a life-changing moment. But I know that it was fucking hard. I felt like I was giving up something important. I felt like I was playing into the hands of a devil. I felt like accepting my body made me a bad person because I was fat. In our society, being fat (or okay with fat) is ethically wrong. I scrambled to please my mother, who still thinks I’m a crazy fat idiot. And the memory of my long-dead father, who I can still remember yelling at 6-year old Indy for eating food.
Somewhere, I actually turned my self-hatred outward and lashed out at someone I loved. For fuck’s SAKE, fat folx and everyone around them suffer because of this. We are all of us suffering in silence on this.
I told you all of this because there are very real and wide-spread consequences from fatphobia. 
For the last year, I’ve been doing great. My self-esteem is really on the mend, and my dashing boyfriend is only supportive, even on my worst, lashing days. And yet, I can still be triggered. One day, my friend Neil, needed to go to a dance for his work. He did not fit into his dressy vest because some stress at work had helped him gain weight. (Thanks for looking out for us, biology!) He threw a fit, which involved flinging the vest onto the couch near his girlfriend and not having a good time at all. Not because he had to change his outfit or he really didn’t have the money to buy a new vest. The whole episode began and ended with “I am fatter than before, and I hate my body.”
This episode brought out my anger because all of my youth and worry and stress came flooding back to me. After a year of being mentally stable, I spent the next week stressed and having suicidal thoughts because of my weight. He hated his body.  Why wouldn’t he hate mine, or my boyfriend’s? We are fat and we don’t care to change it. How many other people did I know who think this way? Does everyone judge me when I’m not around?
I want to make one thing really clear for every thin, fat, in-between person out there: Your body positivity is my body positivity. Your body positivity is my body positivity. Your body positivity is my body positivity. Your body positivity is my body positivity.
When you look at yourself and say “Ugh, this muffin top is so awful,” and you work out to get rid of your fat and you eat so healthy, how should I feel? You hate your own body. How do you feel about mine? I’m not even trying to get rid of my fat. I love it. I grew it myself. Some people reply “Well, you carry it better.” Bitch, I didn’t train to carry these fat rolls. It’s not a matter of being “better at fat.” I am not any better than you at being fat. You know what I am? Pissed that you think luck or genetics helped me “pull off the fat look.” There is no such thing.
On top of that, if someone you know has no idea what body positive means, how will they get a healthy idea of it from you? When you judge your body and still call yourself body positive, you are turning into a shadow of what we need it to be, if not an outright joke.
And I get it. We all have those demons socialized into us. Sometimes, we look in the mirror and hate our bodies. That’s okay! Trying to do more things, be fit, eat healthy or stay in one size pants to save money is totally awesome! But if you constantly worry about calories or go to the gym based on being thinner than you are now (and nothing else), then you’re not even trying to accept your body.
To be honest, I haven’t even started on all my emotions with this subject. So let me leave you with some thoughts:

  • If you say to someone, “I need to lose weight,” you’re telling folx that you see yourself as less for having fat on your body. Therefore, all who are fat are less.
  • If you think that losing weight is “bettering yourself,” you aren’t body positive. Fuck off.
  • If you think that exercising with the goal of making yourself smaller is good, you aren’t body positive. Move out my way.
  • And if you think that it’s okay for others to be fat but not you, you are not body positive and I need you to drop that label so the rest of us can pick it up and do what’s right by it.


How to Take Care of Your Pet Blogger During Con-Drop

Hi folks! This is definitely not a routine post for me. (There are no review numbers, so obviously, Indigo. Thanks for the warning?) But I did not have a routine week this week. In fact, I  took my routine, crumpled it into a ball, set it on fire and threw it under a bus.
This week, I went to Woodhull Sexual Freedom Summit here in D.C. I had the best time hanging out with ALL THE COOL BLOGGERS. I do in fact have so much to say that I will be writing a really long post about it in the next few days. But that’s not what I’m writing today. Today, I will be writing about con-drop, which is very real and very hard.
But what is Con-Crop?
See, here’s what happens. When you send your blogger off to a con like Woodhull, they get to meet and interact with a lot of folks just like them; passionate about sex, sexuality and all these other things that may or may not come up in their lives at home. Sometimes, they play with others, and sometimes they don’t. But either way, they are where they want to be for that weekend, and making a difference in the world. When your blogger comes home to you, they seem sad, though. Why? Well, that’s con-drop.
Coming from that environment into daily life again is very hard. You have to retrain yourself to talk to folks who might not interact with fisting, sounding or pegging as words or concepts. You have to rein in your enthusiasm again to prevent people from staring at you in the supermarket. Additionally, you won’t see a lot of your favorite folks until next year, when Woodhull happens again. (Unless you schedule something specifically, and then will everyone be able to make it?) Coming home also means going back to work, doing laundry and generally not being able to hang out in a blogger lounge and watch folks laugh about obscene things.
So what can you do to help your pet blogger recover from Con-Drop? Well, I call this reCONvery, and I’m here to help.
ReCONvery 101
First, be prepared for the return of your blogger. Make sure the bed is made, and the water is hot for a shower. It’s important that they shower because con germs can spread quickly. If they have clothes for the next day, great! Otherwise, you may have to put a few items in the wash for them. It’s so helpful to have that done when they wake up for the next day.
Make sure your blogger is eating, and eating well. Sometimes, the con is too much and the eating schedule is off. Make sure that your blogger has access to food, and good food at that nourishes them. Things that replenish electrolytes such as pickles are good. Otherwise, burgers and salt can be really useful for that. If your blogger is vegetarian or vegan, I recommend having some bread and hummus for protein and carbs. Be sure to touch base with them about whether they’ve eaten. It can be hard to remember in the midst of con-drop.
Talk to your blogger. They have a lot to process right now. They may have just done a really great spanking scene, or maybe they just feel so much impostor syndrome that they just can’t even. Find out what they are feeling and truly sympathize. It’s hard to feel like a good blogger and advocate when there are SO MANY good ones out there.
I also want to note that if your blogger is out-peopled, they may not want to talk. That’s okay too! Follow their tweets. They may be able to communicate their emotions better that way. Give them space and let them come to you. A scared blogger is a walled-off blogger.
Touch your blogger, or not. Sometimes. your blogger may need to feel some physical aftercare. It was an intimate and emotional weekend for everyone, even if they didn’t go to any parties. Be attentive to your blogger feeling lost and needing a grounding hug, or feeling over-touched and just needing a hand holding (or less!). Be prepared for petting your blogger when they revert to a catatonic state. Turning them towards the sun and watering periodically can also be useful here.
If your blogger is an introvert, consider sitting in the same room with them and simply working or playing a game. Then you can be there if they want you, or you leave them alone if they don’t want you.
If your blogger is an extrovert, find some good friends who they trust and plan some easy outings. A simple cup of coffee with a friend can help them regain energy in a more everyday setting, which is helpful for the transition into daily life. If some con-drop feelings surface, they are with someone trust-worthy.
Make sure your blogger has a comforting thing. Oreos are a great source of chocolate. If your blogger is vegan, Oreos are too. Make sure your blogger has Oreos. 
Make sure you have vitamin C on hand. Your blogger just spent a few days in a hotel with a lot of people. Con-flu is not just an occurrence. It’s extremely common. Fluids, vitamin C and some congestion medicine is helpful to deal with the fall-out of con-petri-dish.
*If you are long distance, be sure that your blogger has everything they need locally and check in more often than the average human.
In general, listen and be attentive to your blogger. They may have really unique needs that I can’t cover here. You know them well, so I know you’ll do fine. With a little time and love, your blogger will recover and be back to their typical selves. That is, they will be planning for the next con eagerly.

Indigo Tries the Funkit Pride Beat Cleaver 12"

10 out of 10
Would recommend for most people who enjoy being hit with things.
Pairs well with a neat bourbon. Specifically Wild Turkey.
So I kind of love rainbows. I wouldn’t call it a problem so much as a solution. I fucking love rainbows. So when I ran across Kenton’s work at Funkit Toys, I had to have something rainbow. SOMETHING. And since I had been using wooden spoons from Wegmans as paddles, I decided that I needed something wood. Something big. Something rainbow.
And so I whipped it out (my credit card) and I bought the Beat Cleaver 12″. It is big. It is wood. It is rainbow. And my god, does it pack a punch.
It costs $32 dollars from the shop, and it shipped to me in about two days. When I opened up the package, I definitely danced a little, and it didn’t come in any special box, so I went straight from opening to whacking my legs experimentally with it. Ah, that is the pleasure of small toy companies. No stupid blister packs to cut open.
I won’t mince words: This paddle is tough. the handle is a foot long. The hitty-part (scientific term) is another foot. For those keeping score at home, that’s 2 feet of momentum here. If you hold that handle at the very end, oh my god, there is going to be a lot of force really quickly. To mitigate that, choke up on the handle, using the section right near that hitty-part and that makes it mush more controlled.
Honestly though, that’s not the REAL reason I’m in love with this paddle. The real reason is flexibility. I seem to have an attraction to things that are two-in-one. If you hit with the flat part of this paddle, it’s likely that you’ll get stung before any real bruising can happen. It is so satisfying for me, and I love working up to getting all that stinging into my legs and butt. Also, even though I don’t really bruise, it did leave this wonderfully dark place on my butt.

It’s hard to get a good butt photo. I haven’t bought a selfie stick yet. #slacking

However, if you used the edge of this paddle, it’s so different. Using it this way is very thuddy. Since I don’t really bruise (thanks genetics), I can’t see the effects, but I feel every hit from this side the next day. I live for the mornings where I wake up with sub-dermal bruising all over my back and thighs. These are perfect opportunities for my boyfriend to touch me and I get shivers all over from it.
I have had this paddle for about three months now and I have used it steadily. Typically, it gets used about once a week, sometimes more. Mine has shown zero wear and tear. It’s still vibrantly colored with the varnishing still intact. As far as I can tell, this paddle will be inherited by my family after I die. It will raise plenty of questions and offer few answers, I’m sure.
All in all, the versatility and longevity of this paddle make it a really great buy. I just spent some money on some silicone toys from Kenton, and I can’t wait to give them a shot!
Here’s a bone-us photo of my butt in case you forgot how great it is. Also, bonus funderwear. EVERYONE GETS A BONUS.