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Love Yourself

A young girl's tale of masturbation.

By J.C. MariePublished 7 years ago 6 min read
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I was twelve when I first learned what masturbation was. I was watching an episode of the British TV show Skins. There was this one character obsessed with a (gay) guy. She snuck into his bedroom and masturbated on his bed to thoughts of him. Now that I am older I see how creepy it was, but at that age I was more focused on the fact that she was sticking her hand down her pants and moaning. I didn't know what that meant, and I was infinitely curious.

So what did I do? I googled it. I found the description of the episode. In that description, the word masturbation popped up. I was intrigued; I had never heard this word before. I click on the word on Wikipedia and it took me to the page on masturbation. Wikipedia described a sex act that could bring someone pleasure, even women. Going to a Catholic school, we never really discussed sex ed or masturbation. It was something that was taboo and not to be discussed. Instantly, I need to know more.

I immediately did more research. For instance, I wanted to know how to masturbate and what it meant. I learned about orgasms and decided I really, really wanted one. I googled how to orgasm as a woman. I found a lot of sites. A lot of them suggested including sex toys, fingers, and toothbrushes. I didn't have a credit card to get a sex toy, I couldn't legally go to a sex store, I tried my fingers and it didn't work, so I bought a vibrating toothbrush (and no, I did not use it for anything other than masturbating).

It was interesting to try at first. I wasn't quite sure what I was looking for. I knew I was supposed to orgasm, but I didn't know how exactly to make that happen. From what I had read, if I stimulated myself enough, eventually there would be a sort of build up of pressure that would then lead to pleasure. And boy, did I want that pleasure. The whole thing felt so taboo, as it wasn't talked about in my Catholic upbringing. Rebelling was my latest kick at the time, and considering the Church's stance on premarital sex, I was ready to essentially spit in their face.

The day I tried with the toothbrush I laid in bed (I snuck it into my room) and turned it on. I put it down there and waited. And waited. And waited. It felt good, it did. But I still wasn't sure how to make myself orgasm. I started moving the brush around, being careful not to push too rough, as those bristles were really rough. Again, it felt good but nothing happened. I just didn't know what to do. After what was probably close to an hour (talk about overstimulated!), I gave up and decided to try again another day.

The second time I tried had essentially the same results. As did the third, fourth, fifth, sixth, seventh, and eighth. I had a couple things that may have been orgasms, but unexperienced me wasn't sure. But oh boy, I was very sure when lucky number nine happened

The eighth time I masturbated I noticed something; it felt significantly better if I used to smooth head of the toothbrush rather than the bristles (why I didn't think of this before, I have no idea). This time, I exclusively used the smooth round head, and boy, did it make a difference.

Everything had felt nice before, but this felt a million times better. I felt myself lifting my ass off the bed, trying to get my clit closer and closer to the vibrations. I felt something building deep in me, and I kept getting closer and closer and closer until finally, it happened. I orgasmed.

Now, you probably hear stories about how orgasms are this life-altering, unexplainable experience. And that is true. But I can't lie, I thought it would be stronger than it was. It felt incredible, but it was also rather weak (especially when I consider some of the orgasms I've had now).

Regardless, it felt good and I immediately wanted more. And I had more. At the tender age of twelve-nearly-thirteen, I became addicted to orgasms. I would come home and masturbate. I would masturbate for as long and as many times as I could. I eventually mastered my fingers on the unfortunate day my toothbrush gave out of me and began experimenting with fingering myself (something I enjoy but can't get off from). I bought another toothbrush and alternated using the two. I kept overstimulating and having to take breaks because of how much I masturbated.

This went on for about a year. Then I decided that my toothbrush and fingers weren't enough anymore. So I did what any sane orgasm addicted teenager would do; I stole one of my mom's credit cards and bought sex toys online.

I know, this is rather morally grey. And I do regret it now that I am older, but I am also so grateful that young me did this as well. Using that card, I bought a dildo, a rabbit vibrator, and a bullet vibrator. Now, I never could really get off with the only the dildo, and the rabbit was fifty-fifty, but ohmygod, that bullet was the love of my teenage years. It reliably got me off every time I used it, and the orgasms it gave me were absolutely incredible. They were something like ten times stronger than any orgasm I'd experienced up to that point, and I loved them. A lot.

So much that I continued to masturbate everyday, as I had before. This quickly led to serious overstimulation and some pain if I pushed my poor little clit too far, but still. I was having the time of my life.

As I moved into high school and began playing sports and joining clubs, my masturbation time was seriously cut into. I did it more on the weekends than I had before, and even then it was hit or miss depending on the work load I had on the table. I started pulling back because I could not longer dedicate as much time to masturbating as I had before. This carried on through college to where I am today.

Now that I am older, I am glad that young me became a bit of an orgasm addict. While it did lead to some morally grey decisions, like the stealing of my mom's credit card, it also let me take control of my sexual satisfaction. I don't rely on my boyfriend or girlfriend to get me off; I can get me off, and I still do. Often. I know what I like and I'm not afraid to ask for it, and if I know I can do it better, I will.

Taking control of one's sexuality at a young age is important. It allows you to know you don't have to rely on anyone else. You can take your fate and sexual satisfaction into your own hands, and you should. Often masturbation, especially female masturbation, is taboo. And that isn't fair. It is important for young women to feel comfortable exploring their sexuality and what it is that brings them pleasure. It gives them a sense of confidence in the bedroom later in life because they know what they want and they know they don't need to take shit from weak-ass guys who are more worried about themselves than getting their girl off.

Most of all, exploring my sexuality at such a young age gave me a chance to love myself and my body. It isn't gross or weird; it is beautiful, and it deserves to be treated beautifully and given pleasure. I think that is the most important lesson I learned from my expedition into masturbation in my young years, and it is why I suggest all young women at least attempt a similar exploration if they so choose.

sex toysadvicefeminismsexual wellness
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About the Creator

J.C. Marie

J.C. is a graduate student who enjoys music, love, and cats.

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