Aren't you worried your sex-adjacent work will turn off a potential partner? How do you handle dating?

Hint: It's not just about sex; it's also about their worldview and their relationship to taboo topics.

I had a date with a psychiatrist who's passionate about psychedelics in therapeutic settings. While the focus of his work was healing from trauma, sometimes strangers would paint him as a party animal and (incorrectly) assume that he was willing to roll with anyone.

That portrait just wasn't accurate.

Like a psychedelic trip, sex can be a vulnerable experience, where environment and intention are critical.

And I didn't have to explain that to him.

I also know someone who works at a gun shop. He asked me, "Does it ever feel like work when you talk about sex? It feels like work when I talk about guns off the clock."

That's someone who's hype about me liking cocks and Glocks and a gazillion other ADHD-ass special interests, many of which I have yet to discover.

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How do they handle the unknown?

Some people just get it. They understand how this sex toy reviewer became a sex toy reviewer.

And when someone doesn't understand something, it matters to me whether they:

Get curious and ask questions
Fill in the blanks with whatever fits their neat boxes
Commit to their projections or update their worldviews with new information

It's not just about whether they judge me for being exotic, but also what assumptions those judgments are rooted in, and whether they can see me wholly and clearly.

Be loved by the best and forget the rest

Some people fucking get my mission and not only tolerate it; they actively appreciate my depth and dimension and cheer me on:

Normalizing and expanding pleasure for women
Unlocking ways to make life as a whole more pleasurable
Witnessing others' pain and beliefs about love and worth
Speaking up about taboos and mental health for everyone
Walking readers through their relationships with themselves and their partners
And of course, using sex toys in my own personal life!

(Why wouldn't a partner want to see that? I mean, come on.)

And if a partner can't appreciate my gifts and my vision as a sex blogger, what's the point?

But isn't there pain in potentially not being liked?

Sure, there is. I haven't always been this grounded or comfortable with how people receive my work; it took me years and many new friends to get to this point.

Yes, sometimes people get suspicious, rude, or aggressive. Yes, sometimes it used to hurt, on an individual level, to wonder if perceived sluttiness made someone like me less. Yes, it hurt to be liked by a partner but not by their parents or peers. No, it's not pleasant to learn the hard way that you can't assume your definition of a fulfilling relationship will align with that of someone you really like.

But, in the long run, it feels worse to be stifled by relationships where I can't be me.

I have enough people I can be myself around.

I have enough sex-positive pals and peers who celebrate the freak — and readers who thank me for my work,

I see people in real life light up and get even more excited to try something new with their partners. I hear the exclamations of, "I learned something new today!"

I know that for every rude commenter on Instagram, there's someone else who found my content by Googling late at night when they were vulnerable or embarrassed — and they found it comforting, helpful, or funny.

I see the stats and how many freaks click on my posts about a cum-eating fetish. (Seriously, it's one of my most-viewed posts.)

I know that the right people for me think my work is wonderful, profound, fun, necessary, and healing, all at the same time. Once you have that, and you're loved for you in your wholeness, it stings a lot less to be disliked by someone who ultimately doesn't matter.

Shine bright, be you, do your own thing, and touch grass; it will be okay.