sex

The Rabbit Habit

When the owners of Lotus Blooms handed me my next toy to review, I smiled like a kid in a candy store and exclaimed:

A phthalate-free Rabbit!

See, I had thrown out my old, jelly rubber Rabbit when I learned that it contained potentially harmful ingredients.  And, I’m a fan of products like the Rabbit that stimulate more than one area.  For those of you who aren’t familiar with rabbit-shaped toys, they consist of:

A phallic vibrator with two or more rows of rotating pearl beads that will hit your G-Spot just so; and

A separate tickler attached to the shaft with soft bunny ears to pleasure your clit.

 
 

There are many Rabbits out there, but Vibratex’s version of the Rabbit, known as the Rabbit Habit, is regarded as the gold standard.  For more than 20 years, Vibratex has manufactured high-quality, body-friendly toys.  Since the majority of women can only orgasm clitorally, the company’s products are designed to do just that, while also allowing for additional G-Spot stimulation.

The Rabbit Habit is made of smooth, safe elastomer.  The toy contains no phthalates or latex and can be used with either silicone or water-based lubricant.  The shaft portion of the product is 5” by 1.5”, which is substantial without being overwhelming.  Although the toy only takes 3 AA batteries, it still packs quite a powerful punch!  For those of you Sex and the City fans, it was Vibratex’s Rabbit Habit that was featured in the show.

When I try out a product like the Rabbit Habit that has separate controls for clitoral and G-Spot stimulation, I test out all the options: clitorally; G-Spot; and dual stimulation.  I started first with the clitoral section or the little bunny ears.  I liked how easy it was to control the toy with a simple flick of the finger up or down.

When I turned the Rabbit Habit on, I expected to lay back, relax and enjoy the ride.  But, that unfortunately didn’t happen.  All I could focus on was how loud the toy was.  

How loud was it?   The product was so loud that I was worried that the noise would wake my neighbors up.  I had this vision of my building’s security guard knocking on my door, asking if I had a contractor in my unit after hours.  Yes, the Rabbit Habit is that loud!

Once I was able to collect myself and overlook the noise, I could focus on the benefits of the toy itself.  The bunny ears are definitely geared for clitoral pleasure, and the pearls inside the shaft are perfect for G-Spot stimulation.  This Rabbit Habit also allows you the freedom to get off just one way or both by just sliding one of the two controls on the battery pack.  And, at $90, the Rabbit Habit is moderately priced for a high-quality, dual-action toy.

I’m torn between Two and Three Squeals of Approval for this toy.  The Rabbit Habit gets Three Squeals because it’s a high-quality, body-friendly toy that will provide you with clitoral and G-Spot pleasure.  But, the noise definitely brought my level of enjoyment down a notch.

Oprah Magazine called the Rabbit Habit: The Rolls Royce of Sex Toys, but I have to disagree with that assessment.  If you want the Rolls Royce of toys, I recommend spending a little more for the Lelo Elise.  The Rabbit Habit is a habit that I could personally do without.  xoxo

*Pursuant to FTC Guidelines, I received the Rabbit Habit free of charge in exchange for my honest assessment of the product.

Spooning With Best Boy

That first week in August 2010, I let Best Boy set the tone about how often we saw each other.  That seemed to work well, as I saw him four times within seven nights. Sex was definitely the focus of our time together, but while he was over, we also managed to catch up, watch some television and do some work.

When I saw Best Boy 12 days after my first breast surgery, I felt strong enough to have sex without a bra.  (Boobs are meant to be displayed, kissed and licked, after all!)  I took my bra off, and Best Boy got on top of me.  My right leg was around his neck, and he was thrusting with a high velocity.  My tits started bouncing, and I wondered if that would be a problem so I moved my left hand over to cup my right breast.

After we both came, Best Boy got up to go to the bathroom.  I turned over and was in excruciating pain.  I looked down and saw that my right breast had swelled to THREE times the size!  (I wish I was exaggerating, but I'm not.  This was like elephanTITis!)

Me  [in a voice that sounded as though I was trying to imitate Rain Man]: This isn't good.  [Pause.]  Something’s wrong.  [Pause.]  This isn't good.  Something's wrong.

Best Boy [coming out of the bathroom]: What’s wrong?  [He looks at me, and his eyes become wide.]  Do we need to go to the ER?

Me: I really hope not.  I don’t know, though.  Mind getting me some ice?

I put my bra back on, placed the ice packs inside and took some Tylenol.  My swollen tit kept throbbing, and I was worried.  My next surgery was less than three days away, and I would hate to have it postponed from a sex injury!  (I'm all for having fun, but there are limits!)

In the morning, I had an event to go to, and Best Boy was kind enough to give me a ride.  He told me to let him know if I needed anything.  Later that day, I texted him:

I’m thankful that we have such great chemistry, but I’m far more thankful that you’re my friend.

And, I was. 

The Perfect Line-Up

Boston Christian called me from the airport to update me on his dad’s status and say goodbye.  I was glad to have seen him that week in August 2010, but his visit also provided me with clarity.  Back in 2007, I had wondered if he and I were meant to date again.  Now, though, I realized that Boston Christian was meant to be my high school love, and my friend as an adult.

That evening, I received a text from Mr. Agency.  (Although we had talked the previous week, we hadn't seen each other since before my surgery.)

Mr. Agency: How are you feeling, sexy?

Me: Good!  Almost all recouped :).  You?

Mr. Agency: I’m good.  I have an event tonight.  If it doesn’t end too late, would you be up for some company?

Me: Of course!  And, it’s okay to come over whenever your event is done.  I’m up late.

Mr. Agency came over around midnight.  I grabbed him a drink, and we caught up on my couch.  It was always easy to talk with Mr. Agency, and I found his smile and laugh infectious.  We discussed a variety of topics from politics to sports to my surgery to the DC social scene.  Yet again, the more time we spent together getting to know each other, the more I liked him.

Since it was late, I asked if he wanted to spend the night.  When we got into bed, Mr. Agency kissed me for the first time.  There are those kisses that make me hot, and there are those kisses that are sweet.  My kiss with Mr. Agency fell into the latter category.  His lips warmed my heart and made me smile.  I wanted more, but I also knew that it was better if we took things slowly.  There was no need to rush into having sex with him.

We kissed for a while before I fell asleep in his arms.  One of my friends described Mr. Agency as a big, black teddy bear, and that label suited him perfectly.  An hour later, he rolled over and said:

It’s been a while since I’ve slept next to someone.  Do you mind if I move to the couch so I can get a good night's sleep?

Me: Not at all.  If you need more blankets or anything, let me know.

With some guys, I would have taken that personally.  But, Mr. Agency was a good guy.  If he needed his sleep, that was fine with me.  I rolled over and fell back to sleep. 

In the morning, I went into the living room to wake him.  We cuddled and kissed a bit more before he headed off to work.  He told me that we would see each other soon, and I knew that we would.  His extremely hectic schedule might prohibit him from taking me out on traditional dates, but that didn't mean that we couldn't spend time together in some capacity.

I felt content with my August line-up:

Mr. Agency was my Snuggle Buddy.

Best Boy was my Friend With Benefits.

That evening, I received a text from Best Boy, asking what I was doing later.  This was turning out to be quite the summer.

The Bald Truth

She looks in the mirror and doesn’t recognize her own reflection.  She’s bald.  The bags under her eyes display how little sleep she has gotten over the past few months.  She undresses and sees her curves.  Since her diagnosis, she’s gained 15 pounds, which is unfortunately the norm for her type of cancer.  Much like the sky on a gray day in winter, there is no beauty to be found here.

Once a week or so, she logs onto Facebook to look through her old photographs.  She smiles at first, feeling nostalgic, before the tears begin to stream down her face.  There was a time when she was the girl with the striking red hair.  There was a time when she could see her godson whenever she wanted without risking an infection that could delay her treatment.  There was a time when the majority of her social life didn’t consist of regular visits to the Chemotherapy Room.  There was a time when she wasn’t:

Cancer Girl.

She’s prided herself on being able to process her emotions and then move past them, but that’s become tougher.  The fatigue, the steroids, the pain, early menopause and how much her life has changed have taken their toll.  She wants her hair back, her body back and her old life back. 

People ask her if treatment is working, and that’s a question that she won’t be able to answer anytime soon.  See, she has an aggressive type of cancer that was caught at the earliest possible stage.  With this type of cancer, there’s a high risk of a metastatic recurrence (also known as stage four cancer or the party is probably over) within five to ten years.  She’s following the protocol that has been shown to drastically reduce her risk of recurrence, but only time will tell whether treatment has been successful.

She confesses that she has had a few pity parties since she started chemotherapy.  But, then, the clouds part, and the sun returns.

She receives a call from a friend who has found a breast lump and wants to know what to do.

She puts on some lingerie before her man arrives and reminds herself that she doesn’t need to feel sexy to be sexy.

An old family friend writes her that she’s getting her first mammogram in over 20 years.

A man opens up to her about how breast cancer has affected him.

She gets involved in a project to raise awareness and funds for breast cancer prevention, research and education.

People – with and without cancer — approach her on the street and thank her for being brave enough to go out in public bald.

She realizes that she will be a stronger advocate against the use of carcinogens in sex toys because she has had cancer.

Strangers send her messages that they’ve started doing breast self-exams or scheduled their first mammograms after reading her blog.

If her experience can be about more than just her, then how can she cry for that long?  This is part of God’s plan.  She silently repeats Joyce Meyer’s quote:

The opposite of fear is faith.

She dries the few tears that have fallen down her cheeks and prepares to go for a short walk.  There will be bad days until she’s done with treatment in March, but today is a good day.  And, she trusts that there will be many, many more good days in her future.

For that, she is grateful.

Friends With Benefits

When I woke on that early August morning, I texted Best Boy:

So…I had a VERY hot dream about us last night.

Best Boy: Really?!?

Me: Yep.

Best Boy: What do you think that means?

Me: I guess that means that you’re right.  That I want to be with you…

Best Boy: Hmm

Me: What are you doing tonight?

Best Boy: Not sure.

Me: Want to come over then?  No more teasing ;).

Best Boy: Sounds good.

When Best Boy arrived at my place later in the evening, everything just felt easy and sweet.  There was a lot of kissing and holding each other close.  (After sleeping with guys like "Buckeyes" Boy and Mr. Exec, it was refreshing to be with someone who wasn’t so dominant in bed.)  Best Boy was affectionate and romantic, and that was just what I needed five days after surgery.

Best Boy was caring and nurturing, as he made sure that I got the attention it deserved without putting pressure on my right breast.  There wasn’t any of that awkwardness that can happen when you have sex with a friend, when it’s your first time with a partner, or when you’re somewhat limited as to the positions.

Afterward, Best Boy held me close or spooned me for most of the night.  When morning came, so did we – again.  I looked at him, smiled and said:

I’m really liking our friendship with benefits!

When Best Boy left an hour later, I realized something.  I hadn’t thought of Mr. Exec the entire time.  Mr. Exec happened to call the following day, but I couldn’t have cared less.  My chapter with Mr. Exec was closed.  But, a new chapter with Best Boy was only just beginning…

Required Reading

I was a bit surprised when one of the owners of Lotus Blooms gave me a book to review, rather than a product.  But, after reading Violet Blue’s The Smart Girl's Guide to the G-Spot, I’m very glad that she did!  Sex educator and best-selling author Blue is an entertaining and effective writer.  Reading this book feels more like you’re talking to a close girlfriend than delving into a clinical sex guide.  It’s a fairly quick read, but it’s chock full of information!

At a time when there is much literature about whether the G-Spot truly exists, Blue states on page vii:

The G-spot is…a real, tangible thing, like my breast and your clitoris, and you can even see it.  But for some reason, lots of people seem to think that the G-spot is a myth.  Or a rumor…No – it’s a real thing, and it makes you come, hard, period.  No deep wisdom, soul-searching or goddess worship necessary.  But a little knowledge helps.

In imparting her knowledge to her readers, Blue looks at what the G-Spot is, what it isn’t, how it got its name, how to see it, and how to explore it with fingers, a fist, a toy and a partner.  The guide offers recommendations for toys and lube to harness the power of G-Spot and useful tips such as urinating before you begin G-Spot play.  The author also suggests positions for G-Spot pleasure during sex and devotes a whole chapter to how to tap into your ability to ejaculate or squirt.  The informative sections are interspersed with four pieces of erotica by Alison Tyler.  If you need to set the mood before having some quality time with yourself, these hot stories should do the trick!

This book is beneficial for first-timers, as well as those women who are already very familiar with their G-Spots.  As a testament to the book’s appeal, a girlfriend picked it up from my coffee table and plowed through two chapters while waiting for me to get ready.  The next time she was over, she asked where the book was so that she could read some more!

I love how Blue reminds her readers that it’s okay to listen to their bodies.  She encourages every woman to find her G-Spot, while acknowledging that some women prefer to orgasm clitorally or anally.  The author also addresses how some females don’t want to squirt or ejaculate.  It’s all about what feels good and right to each of us!

If I was teaching a course on The Female Orgasm, The Smart Girl's Guide to the G-Spot, would be required reading!  Turn off your laptop, your television and your phone for an hour or two and relax with this guide.  You won’t be disappointed, and for $14.95, you’ll definitely get your money’s worth!

I can’t give this book less than my full Five Squeals of Approval!

* Pursuant to FTC Guidelines, I received this book free of charge in exchange for more honest assessment of the product.

UTIs and You (or Your Partner)

Nothing says Hump Day like answering a Formspring question about UTIs (urinary tract infections)!  Now, before my male readers close this window, if you date women, you might find this information worthwhile, too.

With the disclaimer that I’m not a medical professional and that a woman should go to her gynecologist if she might have an infection, here goes:

Question: I’ve been in a serious relationship for six months.  I recently got my first UTI in two years. When I told my boyfriend, he made me feel bad about it because he doesn’t realize that it was caused by sex.  How can I talk to him about it?

Answer: I hope that you have already gone to your gynecologist to confirm that you have a urinary tract infection and obtain a prescription for antibiotics.  You should also drink lots of water and cranberry juice to help your bladder clear out and prevent bacteria from sticking to the bladder wall.  Most doctors recommend abstaining from sex during treatment for a UTI, but you should confirm that with your health care practitioner.

As the Mayo Clinic describes, it’s very common for women to get UTIs, and many will get more than one in their lifetime.  In addition, sexually active women are at higher risk for developing urinary tract infections.

Even though it might not be the easiest conversation to have with your boyfriend, it’s important to do so.  The situation is (unfortunately) likely to recur so not sayng anything now merely prolongs the inevitable.

Pick a time when you won’t be rushed and when sex isn’t expected.  Open with how you realize this isn’t a particularly fun topic to talk about and how your previous conversation made you feel.  Impress upon your boyfriend that this is a common occurrence for many women and how it can happen when you don’t urinate after you have sex.  Let him know that you are on antibiotics to treat the infection and that it’s not contagious.  Offer to email him information from any of the sites linked herein if he wants to read more about UTIs.  And, then ask him for his thoughts.

You should come up with something in your own words, but as an idea:

I felt hurt when I told you what was going on with my infection, and you intimated that it was my fault/were dismissive.  I had hoped that you would be more understanding.  Many women get UTIs, and sex is often the cause.  I'll try to be better about going the bathroom right after we have sex so this doesn’t happen again.  It’s not contagious or anything like that, but my doctor recommended waiting until I’m done with my antibiotics before having sex again so things can heal.  If you want me to send you some links to sites about this, I can.  So, what are you thoughts about this?

The average healthy guy doesn’t have to deal with UTIs so it’s not an issue that is going to be on his radar.  If I’m with a partner who wants to snuggle or talk for a while after sex, I let him know that I need to head to the bathroom quickly and why.  I don’t spell it out explicitly, but I’ll say something like:

I really want to continue this conversation/stay in bed, but let me quickly head to the bathroom so I’m not hurting tomorrow.

Most guys aren’t going to ask what I mean by that, and that’s fine.  It’s more important to me that I excuse myself for a few minutes and don’t have to worry about getting a UTI.

So, readers, what are your thoughts on this issue?  Did I miss anything?  xoxo

How Is Chemo Like Sex?

I find myself being able to see the light at the end of the tunnel.  I’m halfway through chemotherapy.  Halfway.  Three down and three to go.  The end is in sight.

How did my third round go?  It was…different.  I learned that my iron and red blood counts were low from hemorrhaging after my second round.  I needed five days of iron IVs, in addition to my normal three days of post-chemotherapy IVs, to try to bring my counts up before my next treatment.  Between the added IVs and the fact that my pressure was dangerously low at 63/44, my oncologist advised me to do a whole lot of nothing for ten days.  The hope is that all those IVs and taking it easy will help my counts increase. If they don't go up by November 22nd, my next treatment will be postponed.  Positive thoughts and prayers are currently being accepted since I don’t want my treatment to be delayed.

I’ve been thinking lately that chemotherapy and sex have a lot in common.  (Yes, you read that correctly.) 

Let me count the ways:

1. Everybody and every body are different.  I try to include disclaimers with every Sex Advice post that what works for one person in the bedroom might not work for another.  It’s important to know your body and listen to your partner’s body to ensure the best possible experience.

When it comes to chemo, oncologists prescribe different combinations of chemotherapy drugs, depending on the type of cancer, the severity or stage, and the patient’s health.  The same cancer can be treated in a variety of ways, and every patient responds uniquely;

2. You never know how long it’s going to last.  With sex, you don’t always know going in if it will be a quickie or a two-hour, multi-position marathon.  With chemo, some low-dose regimes are given every day in a row for only two or three weeks.  Stronger chemotherapy drugs are typically administered once every two or three weeks for a minimum of four rounds;

3. Hair matters.  In the bedroom, personal grooming south of the border is important.  Paging Model Boy…  With respect to chemo, it’s an unfortunate rite of passage if you are given a powerful form of chemotherapy that causes hair loss;

4. You might not be able to predict how you’ll feel afterward.  There’s no rhyme or reason as to why one person can feel perfectly content after a one-night stand or sex with an ex-partner, while another feels more negative emotions.  Biologically, women experience an endorphin rush after reaching orgasm, while men experience a reverse sensation and feel like sleeping.  How many times have you finished having sex and come out of the experience with a distinctly different take or energy level than your partner? 

Having chemo is very similar in this regard.  Two people can respond to the same treatment in very disparate ways.  One person can just feel tired after chemotherapy, and another person has every possible side effect;

5. The purpose varies.  Sometimes sex is just sex.  Sometimes sex is an expression of love.  Sometimes sex is a way to say, “goodbye,” at the end of a relationship.  And, sometimes, sex is like a drug.

Chemotherapy serves a variety of purposes, too.  For some, it provides hope, while for others, it’s used to prepare the body for transplants.  And, in the roughest of cases, it’s administered as a last resort; and

6. The Finish Line!  Hey, I’m not knocking the enjoyment to be had during the process, but don’t we all hope to cum by the time we’re done having sex?  It’s not called climax for nothing!  With chemotherapy, the finish line is also the goal.  All that matters is getting there.

How is chemo not like sex?

One is my favorite thing to do, and one is my least favorite thing to do.  But, I think that’s stating the obvious. xoxo

The Next Stage

The middle of July found me wondering if Mr. Exec and I could work in any capacity.  My uncertainty about what I wanted from Mr. Exec was put on the back burner, though, when I received a call from my breast surgeon.

A second area of cancer had been found.  There wasn’t a question that I would beat this, but a Stage One diagnosis at age 37 typically requires chemotherapy.  I also needed to have two more areas biopsied before surgery and treatment.

Although Mr. Exec and I texted for hours on end between my updated diagnosis and surgery, we never ended up seeing each other.  He claimed he was focused on work, but I knew it was more than that.  In his mind, I had insulted him by saying that we weren’t friends and that I didn’t value him outside of his abilities in bed.  (And, yes, I appreciate how ironic it was that Mr. Exec felt insulted by my behavior.)  I also tried to change our relationship mode, and a control freak like Mr. Exec will never comply with terms that he doesn’t set himself.

Somewhat surprisingly, I felt neither bad nor sad that I hadn’t seen him in a few weeks.  Yes, I missed the rush from sex with Mr. Exec, but I didn’t miss the drama, the games or the disrespect. 

My vulnerabilities did come into play on the day of my surgery, though.  I found myself back at Sibley Hospital with three procedures before the actual surgery.  As I sat in the waiting room, I recalled when Mr. Exec had left me a voicemail during my first set of biopsies, claiming that we would get through this all together.  And, then, I received a text from Mr. Exec that he was praying for me and hoped my surgery went well.

As I moved from procedure to procedure, Mr. Exec and I continued to text each other.  Our conversation provided a good diversion from the day's events, but it was also unsettling.  Mr. Exec insisted that he would have been there for me at the hospital, but for the fact that I wouldn’t let him.  Given how his words have never reconciled with his actions, that didn’t make sense.  But, sitting in a hospital gown being poked and prodded, I wasn’t able to see the situation that clearly at the time.

Following the surgery, Mr. Exec texted me several times to see how I was doing.  I definitely needed some help so I inquired as to whether I would be seeing him at all that week.  His response: I hope so.

Three days after my surgery, he called to check on me.  I had assumed that he would be going to an event downtown with some of our mutual friends, but he informed me that he had work to do that evening.

The following morning, I went on Facebook and saw that Mr. Exec’s work consisted of attending a friend’s birthday dinner and drinks.  (I guess we all define “work” differently.)  I proceeded to shake my head and roll my eyes at my laptop.

Mr. Exec texted me every day for the next three days to see how I was feeling.  I didn’t respond since I had nothing to say.  It simply wasn't worth trying to care about someone who didn't care about anyone but himself. 

After not hearing back from me, Mr. Exec called me on August 9th.

Mr. Exec: Good morning.  How are you?

Me: Okay. Thanks.

Mr. Exec: I’ve texted you several times to see how you were doing, but I never heard back from you.  I’ve been worried about you.

Me: I’m good.  Just recouping.

We repeated a similar conversation two more times since Mr. Exec was trying to figure out why I had ignored him.

Me:  I honestly wasn’t sure how to respond to your texts.  You had told me that you would try to stop by to check on me and that you weren’t going to the event last week because of work.  And, then I see that you went to a friend’s birthday. 

Mr. Exec: Umm…where did you see that?

Me: On Facebook.

Mr. Exec: But, you unfriended me…

Me: Yes, but we still have friends in common.  [Pause.]  It’s fine if you didn’t want to come by, but I’m not really sure why you just didn’t tell me the truth.

Mr. Exec [raising his voice slightly]: I called you to ask how you were doing.  I didn’t call about this kind of ‘fluff.’

Me [chuckling]: So…you lying to me is fluff?

Mr. Exec [raising his voice a little more]: Yes, it is!  I don’t need to explain myself or what I do to anyone!

Me [in a slightly sarcastic tone]: Oh, I know you don’t.

Mr. Exec: Are you being sarcastic?

Me: Yes, I am.

Mr. Exec: I called to find out how you were!  I don’t need to be bothered with this.

Me: Well, you wanted to know why I didn't text back so I'm telling you.

Mr. Exec [raising his voice even more]: You didn't respond to me because of that?  That's ridiculous!

Me: Not to me.  I'm actually on my way to an appointment, though, so we might just need to agree to disagree.  Hope you have a good day.

Mr. Exec [pausing]: You, too.  [Pause.]  Goodbye then.

Me: Bye.

That was the last time I spoke to Mr. Exec.  There was nothing more to say, and it was time for me to devote my energy to kicking cancer’s ass!  I had assumed that I would be doing that with my friends by my side and without a man in my life.

As luck would have it, though, only the first part of that sentence is true ;).

Why Do People Ask Me For Advice?

On to another question from Formspring:

Question: The one thing I’m most confused about is why all of these people write to you for relationship advice, yet you don’t seem to have been a part of many healthy, functioning relationships.  I question why you continually bounce from one man to the next.  Is it an attention thing?  A lack of confidence?  Who knows?  Best of luck finding what you seem to be searching for.

Answer: I would say I have what I’m searching for in the dating arena.  I enjoy my life and am open to whatever love and life have in store.  (I would have never imagined that I would leave one career I loved to embark on another exciting professional adventure.  And, on the relationship front, I am one of those women who actually likes dating and getting to know other people.  I'm not a fan of boring relationships either and seek passion and excitement from guys.  Right now, I have a great companion to fulfill that role, which is just what I’m interested in at this point in my life.)

I don't believe that I'm seeking attention, although I admit that as a blogger, I'm seeking an audience and people interested in my stories.  I can write that I don't lack for confidence personally or professionally, but that's a question better fielded by people who know me in real life. 

I don't view bouncing from one guy to another, as you put it, as a bad thing.  I have a fun dating life, and I've learned a lot about myself and relationships from every ex-boyfriend.  I’ve been very clear about my goal to adopt as a single mother.  I’m not looking for the traditional dating scenario that leads to marriage and children in that order.  That might not be something that the average person can identify with, but I hope that my readers will support my choices as I support theirs.

I learned to be accepting of other women and their choices from my mom.  Many of mom's friends would call her for personal and professional advice.  Mom taught me to prioritize my friendships with females, always be there for the people in your life, and be a good listener and a sounding board.

Friends started coming to me in college for relationship and sex advice.  (I also went to a women's college so there weren't many topics about which we didn't discuss ad nauseam.)  Now, thanks to my blog, I have a larger audience.  I’m the first to admit that I don’t always heed my own advice, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t recognize the same red flags in my dates that my readers do.  I also try to look for the best in people.  Maybe that makes me naïve or causes me to stay too long in relationships, but that is how I was raised and is not something that I’m likely to change.

I have been told that I give good advice and that my suggestions have helped friends and readers.  I think that people also feel like they can be honest about their flaws/problems/weaknesses/concerns because I’m so honest about mine.  I don’t claim to have all the answers, and I'm the first to admit that I haven't made the best decisions when it comes to the men I date.  But, I do care and will do my best to talk and brainstorm with friends and readers to resolve a problem.  (I just did so this morning, in fact.)

When I give advice, I hope to be viewed as a credible source who has done her research on the topic at hand.  I'm the In-House Passionista and Reviewer for Lotus Blooms (@DaschaBoutique on Twitter), and I've written freelance articles for Fascinations at Fun Love.

In addition, I’m a Supporting Member of the American Association of Sexuality Educators, Counselors and Therapists (AASECT).  In June, I attended AASECT’s annual conference and completed an intensive two-day class in Sexual Attitude Readjustment Training.  After I’m finished with chemotherapy and radiation, I plan to teach workshops on sex techniques, purchasing body-friendly toys, and spicing up your relationships.  I will apply for certification as a Sex Educator through AASECT and expect that continuing adult sex education will be a part of my life for years to come.

The beauty about my blog is that a person doesn’t need to read my posts if he or she doesn’t want to do so.  Likewise, it’s optional for people to email me with questions or seek advice from me on Formspring.  As my friends and readers know, if and when they need me, I'm here.

What are your thoughts about the reader's questions?  For those of you friends and readers who have come to me seeking advice, why have you done so? xoxo