There’s no shortage of women who watch porn, but for the longest time, it felt impossible to find porn for women. These days there is (praise be) a ton of feminist porn out there, but it can sometimes take a bit of legwork to find. On a lot of free sites, it often feels like you have to wade through video after video (and pop-up after pop-up) of people degrading, insulting, and violating women before you can find something arousing and empowering. 

Finding hot masturbation material (or fodder for favorite foreplay tips) should not come at the cost of feeling like an object (unless that is specifically what you’re looking for, a valid turn-on which can still be experienced in a feminist way).

Much of the best porn for women isn’t free, but keep in mind that a lot of free porn isn’t produced ethically. Paying for feminist porn is not only going to be safer for your computer, but it makes the entire industry more female-friendly—for the performers and the viewers.

Here are some feminist porn sites to check out if you’re looking for female empowerment, mutually respectful sex, and lots of content to help get you off.

Cindy Gallop created this site to show real sex among real people—not actors doing things that don’t represent how sex happens IRL. Couples submit videos of themselves having sex—”real world sex in all it’s glorious, silly, beautiful, messy, reassuring humanness—which you can rent for $5, and half of the money will go to the stars themselves. “We are not porn—porn is performance (often an exceedingly delicious performance, but a performance nonetheless),” its website reads. “We are not ‘amateur’—a label that implies that the only people doing it right are the professionals and the rest of us are bumbling idiots. (Honey, please.)” We love that attitude. And these vids.

This award-winning queer porn site provides “real dyke porn, lesbians, femme on femme, boi, stud, genderqueer and trans-masculine performers, transwomen, transmen, queer men and women engaging in authentic queer sexuality.” You can become a member (which lets you stream all the videos) for $9.99 to $25 a month.

Erika Lust, a filmmaker who explained why porn can be feminist in this great TED Talk, gives us porn videos—made largely by female directors—that show all of the passion, “intimacy, love, and lust in sex,” where “the feminine viewpoint is vital, the aesthetic is a pleasure to all of the senses, and eroticism and innovation are celebrated.” She also accepts viewer “confessions,” which she turns into videos for her XConfessions series. You can watch Lust’s work for $16.66 to $34.95 a month.

Instead of your standard video format, this site features GIFs for quick, free consumption of “palpable desire, unbridled passion, and body-positive eroticism.” It also offers sex-toy reviews, a NSFW coloring book, and other resources from sex educator Elle Chase.

The “female-friendly” sections of mainstream porn sites are often just proof of how low our standards are. Anything where a woman feels a modicum of genuine pleasure tends to get categorized this way, even when the images overall are clearly geared toward straight men. But Dane Jones’ videos are some of the best options you’ll find under this category. They’re sensual, romantic, and focused on the women involved (though they tend to have shots that linger on men’s bodies as well). You can become a member for around $20 to $30 a month, but many videos are free.

The women-run Indie Porn Revolution—formerly known as nofauxxx.com—is committed to involving a diverse array of actors, showing safe sex (a rarity in porn), and casting frequently typecast people in nonstereotypical roles. Membership is $16.67 to $20 a month.

“Ms. Naughty,” the filmmaker behind this production company, calls it “a deliberate attempt to show all the good stuff that we love about sex—intimacy, laughter, connection, and real pleasure.” The videos feature the silly, awkward side of sex as well as the hot and steamy side. The camera zooms in on men just as much as it does on women, and the scenes focus on the buildup of sexual tension couples experience before sex, so you can feel the heat rising. To see beyond the previews, you have to pay $28.22 for the first month and then $12.24 a month after that.

Listen to enough fake porn moans and you can start to wonder what real people actually sound like when they’re masturbating or having sex. Fortunately, this site clears all that up. For no cost at all, you can listen to dozens of audio recordings of masturbation sessions. Some include dirty talk aimed at pleasing the listener, and others include entertaining attempts to count backward from 100 to 0.

The feminist sex-toy store Good Vibrations makes an effort to cater to women’s diverse desires, and its video collection is no exception. You can search specifically for feminist porn, women-directed films, and even sex-ed guides—something very needed in a world where way too many people learn everything they know from some pretty unrealistic porn. You can pay per minute or rent each video for $5 to $10.

At Bellesa, women can easily access sexual content that is true to how they see themselves—as subjects of pleasure, not objects of conquest. It’s not just about the porn, though. They’re a platform that is aimed at helping women fulfill their desires, share intimate and erotic stories, and even engage in a community with other like-minded women looking to freely express their sexuality on the Internet. If you want to try your hand at erotica stories, you can submit your content here, or you can simply browse through their women-friendly porn, whether you’re looking for something sensual, passionate, or, dare we say, even a little rough.

This female-founded app is that is aimed at creating elevated feminist audio—think Audible for erotica—that allows you to find a sexy story for whatever situation you’re in. You can search for audio porn to listen to alone in bed for a solo session; stories perfect to listen to before a date to get you into a flirty headspace; even erotic stories appropriate for listening to on your commute home to help you switch off from a day at the office. Dipsea’s stories feature a broad range of preferences, perspectives, and interests, and they’re fun, safe, and full of enthusiastic content that prioritizes female pleasure. You can subscribe for $47.99 per year, which is less than $4 a month.

Sexuality is a spectrum, and the best porn should reflect that. SPIT’s queer porn collection nails it on two levels, showcasing different types of content—videos, photos, and erotica—which showcase a variety of experiences. Its content is developed ethically, and the company is dedicated to creating consensual, equitable, and intersectional feminist spaces in the sex industry. That’s definitely a great reason to join for $19.65 per month.

Reddit isn’t always the friendliest place for women, but on the r/chickfixxx subreddit you can find women posting their favorite female-friendly X-rated videos. You can even make requests—if your tastes are more specific or you’re looking for a particular kind of video, it may just be easier to ask your fellow sexperts here instead of browsing for hours. You are most definitely welcome.

For porn on the artistic side (yes, it’s a thing and it’s great), check out the photography and short films on A Four Chambered Heart. Unsurprisingly, some of the stills are pretty enough to hang up on your walls—if you’re not too busy getting off to them, that is.

Images and audio are great, but sometimes there’s nothing better than reading some good old-fashioned erotica. Literotica isn’t your grandma’s scandalous paperback, however. The free resource provides some of the hottest erotic fiction and fantasy on the Internet from a variety of authors and points of view. Its standards for stories are high, so you can be sure that the stories featured here are, ahem, quite useful.

Since the day I dramatically yelled, “El fuego! El fuego!” to a Spanish-speaking fling, while rushing to the bathroom to basically hose down my clit, I’ve been wary of clitoral serums. When you feel like any part of your vulva has been doused in cayenne pepper, it’s enough to turn you off sex serums forever, trust me.

Granted, that was six years ago, and the world of sexual serums has evolved immensely. As one who writes about sexual health (and often does sex toy reviews) it was inevitable that serums would eventually be thrown into the mix, despite my initial hesitation. As higher-end serums hit the market, more formulas promising to intensify my orgasms and boost clitoral sensitivity found their way into my hands—and that meant I had to get over my fear of possibly having a clitoral fuego incident again.

Then I came across OH – The Big O, by VSPOT Sexual Health Spa—a science-backed sex serum that promises to deliver the type of orgasms that your friends brag about, you dream about, and probably assume only exist in movies. Naturally, I was game to try it—especially after reading that the ingredients were void of anything that could possibly burn.

Impatient as I am, I opened the box, applied the serum, then grabbed my favorite vibrator. I was disappointed—there was no difference in my orgasm; at least not a noticeable one. So, I did what I should have done in the first place: read the directions. It was here that I found that this butterscotch-scented (yes, that’s how it smells, at least to me), silky serum needed to be applied for five days—once in the morning and once in the evening, then left to fully dry—in order to get the full benefits of it. I gave myself a full week of twice daily application, with no clitoral stimulation in between, so I could experience OH to the fullest extent.

What makes OH unique, is that the patented ingredients have been proven to increase blood flow to the clitoris by an average of 80%, according to a clinical study funded by the company. When someone with a vulva becomes aroused, blood rushes to that entire region—clitoris included, of course—and that’s what makes the vulva and clit extra sensitive; so sensitive you can feel your heartbeat between your legs sometimes. Basically, the better your circulation, the more blood you have heading toward your vulva, and the more fantastic the orgasm. (Of course, there are other components in there, like the release of hormones during and after arousal, but to keep it simple, let’s just focus on the blood flow for OH.)

After seven days of diligently applying the serum and living an orgasm-free life, I prepared myself for fantastic, orgasmic bliss. I was initially slow to reach arousal—no matter where I let my mind wander to in regard to fantasies—but once I could feel I was fully there, I dappled in a bit of edging. It had been a full week, after all, so I was going to use more than one technique to take this orgasm to a level that might, ideally, transcend all the earthly pleasures I’d ever known. When I felt myself on the verge of climaxing, I let out a quiet gasp in anticipation of what I knew was going to be a whole boatload of intense.

As someone who practices edging regularly, I knew from the feeling that was climbing my insides that the height of this orgasm wasn’t the result of edging alone, but something else as well—the OH serum, perhaps?

Then I came. I came so damn hard, that my legs didn’t just twitch, but trembled in disbelief. Yes, I’d gone a week without an orgasm before (and far longer) and yes, I’d indulged in the sweet satisfaction of edging before, but there was definitely a third component involved. In fact, in being completely greedy, I went in for round two (no edging this time) and my second orgasm was just as intense as the first—and we all know that the sequel is rarely as good as the original, whether we’re talking orgasms or movies. I was struck. I was hooked. I was, dare I say it, in love?

That was two nights ago. Although I’ve been craving to delve back into an OH orgasm again, I’ve held off mostly because I’ve been exhausted and distracted, and I want to be totally present when I enjoy it again. But I know, as long as I continue to apply OH twice daily, when I’m ready, OH will be there to take my orgasms above and beyond again. And, frankly, after this past year, I deserve it. And so do you.

When the pandemic hit, I hadn’t dated anyone since the previous October, when my blink-and-you-miss-it “relationship” with a woman in an open marriage ended in my being dumped via Facebook Messenger on their wedding anniversary. I had been living in Thailand, and by the time March rolled around, I was completely over my life there. But mass lockdowns and travel bans put a stop to any repatriation plans I might have conjured up.

Staying in Thailand during those beginning months of COVID-19 turned out to be a blessing in disguise. Holed up in a traditional house in the backwoods of Chiang Mai, I set out to put all my newfound universe-imposed free time to good use. I taught myself how to ride a motorbike, whipped up viral TikTok recipes (Dalgona coffee anyone?), and took on other quirky alone-time hobbies like bullet journaling. I made good use of my time, if I do say so myself, but when I lay down at night, I couldn’t shake this feeling that seemed to be growing steadily inside of me: I wanted some dick.

So I set out to find some.

Date 1

With Operation Get Some Dick underway, I headed to the one place I knew I’d find a sea of men, eager to stick their dicks in a new vagina: Tinder.

My aggressive swiping resulted in a first for me: a virtual date. I scheduled a Zoom coffee meet-up with Steven,* an older white guy from Edinburgh who had been in Thailand for however many years teaching English. As I sat on my porch sipping my Dalgona coffee, we exchanged pleasantries and typical first-date questions and had a pleasant enough conversation, but I knew he would not be the one to break my four-year penis fast. For one thing, he gave off major #mediocrewhiteman vibes. Hardly asking me anything about myself, he boasted about how his students describe him as the “best teacher they’ve ever had.” Ultimately, I just wasn’t attracted to him.

Date 2

I met a few other guys off Tinder, like Dwayne,* an early 40s, divorced Black Brit who was—you guessed it—teaching high school at an international school just outside Chiang Mai. We met for lunch at a local vegetarian restaurant. I knew right away that I didn’t care for the place he’d chosen, but not wanting to come across as difficult or picky, I agreed to meet him anyway the following weekend.

Right away I was a bit disappointed. Well, maybe disappointed is the wrong word; rather, my date with Dwayne was a reminder of the antiquated gender rules that govern the heterosexual dating game. I wore a full face of makeup and a cute J.Crew sundress, while Dwayne showed up in a T-shirt and some gym shorts. As I picked at my flavorless cashew nut rice, I made a silent mental note to speak up the next time someone suggests a restaurant I’m not into.

Date 3

He’s cute, right? I typed to my friend Isaiah as I sent him a screenshot of Danny,* the guy I was going on a second date with. “Ooooh, he is. And he looks just like your type, only in guy form. LOL.”

Danny, another Tinder find, is closer to my age and originally from the Midwest too.

He is tall, thin, and lanky, just like I like, with a head full of Afro-kinky curls and a pretty fit body from years of training in Muay Thai. We video-chat for close to an hour, talking about our favorite music, what our Midwestern parents make of our wanderlust, and how hard it is to find products for our hair in Thailand. We met up for coffee—at a place of my choosing—in the city center. All these months later, I don’t remember much about our conversation, but I do recall enjoying it.

Crystal*, a 21-year-old in Ohio, has lived with her parents throughout the pandemic and snuck out a few times to hook up with people. “To be honest, I don’t feel they were worth it,” she says. “It was nice to get out, but I also felt like, Why am I risking this for people I don’t even like or resonate with?”

Mya*, a 30-year-old in Los Angeles, is also rethinking the way she wants to date. “I’ve learned that it’s really important for me to have some power and control in my relationships, and it’s really okay if that means that a lot of dudes are not going to be into it,” she says. She lasted through a 14-month pandemic completely alone—not getting a text back from some guy she met on Tinder is not going to end her world.

Regardless of sexual identity or relationship status, women have had a year to be in our own bodies with little input from the outside world. Maybe you got dressed more this year without worrying about how your boss or the parents at school drop-off would judge. Maybe you faced less catcalling, took a break from the mental workout of having to invent a fictional boyfriend when aggressive men won’t leave you alone. Maybe in the absence of regular dating, you had more time and space to think about what really feels good to you, what you like, what you want. Maybe the governmental mishandling of the pandemic has felt like such a profound waste of your time that you’re simply not willing to have any more time wasted. Whatever the past year of reflection has meant to you, women will be setting new rules this summer.

“No vaccine, no vag-een,” says Tara*, a 28-year-old in Wisconsin. “That’ll be my new rule.” (Turns out, that’s actually an old idea: Activists in the 1950s promoted polio vaccines with similar slogans—they proclaimed, “No shots, no dates.”) For Tara, the proliferation of vaccines doesn’t necessarily mean that safe(r) sex feels in reach. She watched, throughout the pandemic, as people in her conservative community proudly rejected masks and ignored scientists. About half of Republican men, an NPR-Marist poll found, say they will not take the vaccine when it becomes available. Only 6% of Democrats who are men say the same. “I feel like I’m going to have to interrogate people to make sure that they’re being safe so I don’t feel like I’m risking my life just to get some ass,” Tara says. “I’m going to quit having sex with Republicans.”

Of course, all sex carries risk. And after more than a year of feeling screwed over by the pandemic, there will likely be a rise in selfish sex. “I think fuckboys are definitely going to lie about getting the vaccine,” says Alice, who feels anxious when she contemplates sex and dating even after mass vaccination. She is one of the more than 30 million Americans who fell sick with COVID, and it changed her perspective on being single. “I remember my chest closing up, and I was having such a hard time taking a full breath that I couldn’t stand up without falling over,” she says. She became scared that she would die alone in her apartment, and nobody would even know. “As lame as it sounds, I’ve learned how important it is for humans to be close to each other,” she says.

Will we emerge transformed by an earnest appreciation for each other’s bodies, craving pure connection? Or simply out for all we can steal? “I hope dating is better now, cause before coronavirus, it wasn’t exactly the greatest thing,” says Jax. She dreams of “going to a bar, getting drunk with my friends, and just making out with a stranger. Having someone spit in your mouth, and not worrying about dying.”

Our culture is not designed to help women claim our own pleasure or get commitment without giving up some essential freedom. But after more than a year away from mainstream sex and dating culture, more women have gained a better sense of what they want, and deserve. Jax wants a messy makeout. Mya wants agency. Abbie wants more sex, hotter sex, and more experimental sex. Crystal wants better ~vibrations~. Tara wants respect and honesty. And Alice wants to feel the exquisite preciousness of human connection, without losing herself.

It’s going to be a long, hot, horny summer. When it’s safe for you, don’t forget sunscreen, a mask, and a condom if applicable. And don’t forget that you survived a major tragedy and a really, really tough year. You don’t have time to be slut-shamed, or play by sexist rules, or have bad sex. Welcome to your sweaty, sexy, self-finding summer. 

*Name has been changed. 

Jenny Singer is a staff writer for Glamour. You can follow her on Twitter. 

Before he can say another word, my mouth is searching for him. I’ve forgotten that we’re in a pandemic, and at that moment I don’t give a fuck about the coronavirus. My hands grip his unruly brown hair, his hands cup my face. Before long he’s ravenously exploring my body, pulling my housedress down, and taking me into his mouth. I remove his faded T-shirt to reveal tanned skin and a meticulously sculpted six-pack. It’s not long before we’re in bed consuming each other. His one hand grips my hair, the other my hips as he continuously pushes into my depth from behind. He’s dominant, deeply passionate, and well-endowed. My sexual trifecta.

I fight off thoughts of Robert and try to enjoy the pleasure. Despite being broken up for weeks, somehow, it feels like I’m being unfaithful. Pat completely unaware, throws his head back and groans. I feel him pulsate inside of me before he laughs and withdraws. “I’m so sorry, it’s been a while—just give me a minute and we can go again.” I laugh with him. “It’s been a while for me too.” I press my back to his chest, and we lie in bed, covered in his sweat. I think of the first time Robert said “I love you” and how he used to hold me this way. I begin to silently cry.

What the hell is wrong with me? I’m naked, with a hot man. Why am I crying? Pat is smiling and completely unaware as tightens his grip around me. I feel like a sponge being pressed of its liquid as my few tears quickly turn to steady streams. Embarrassed, I use the pillow to quickly wipe them away. And before they can return, I roll over and ask, “Are you ready to go again?” His eyes light up, he pulls me on top of him. “Careful what you ask for, girl.” His next release isn’t so quick.

Pat and I never have another date. Crying after is was a new experience for me. It is startling enough to make me realize that no matter his résumé, I simply am not ready.

Date 4

It’s October before I decide to try again. I still think about Robert every day, but I’m horny and hope maybe enough time has passed. Plus, predictions of a second wave loom, and the thought of repeating another quarantine alone is terrifying. I meet Victor* on Tinder, and after a few weeks of half-hearted back and forth, we finally make a plan to meet. He assures me that he’s recently been COVID tested and proposes watching the newly released Savage x Fenty show together at my place. Only two people have entered my apartment this year, and one of them is the monthly exterminator. But I can’t think of a sexier first date, so I clean for the first time in weeks, light my candles, and cook a vegan dinner.

We sit together on the couch and within the first two minutes, we’re screaming and cheering at the screen. When the show ends, we spend hours talking and laughing. It’s simultaneously so normal and so foreign. After all these months in solitude, I hadn’t been sure if I still knew how to be with someone new. But with Victor, it isn’t hard. We discuss divorce, military life, and living abroad. He is handsome, charming, and effortless. I find his ease intoxicating. 

Our conversation pauses but doesn’t feel awkward. We let the tension build as we stare at one another. Smiling, he leans in and kisses me, and I kiss back. Then, gripping my hips, he pulls me onto him. His tongue fills my mouth, and my hands are lost in his dark curly brown hair. We furiously undress each other on our way to my bedroom. I pull away only to use my tongue to trace invisible paths along his body. I want to drink his deeply tanned skin. His fingers fill my mouth as he crawls on top and enters me in one fluid motion. I shut my eyes, willingly receiving him in every space he fills. His hands quickly grip my face, forcing me to look deeply into his eyes as he takes me. He moves inside of me with deep, rhythmic intensity. When he senses I’m close to climax, he lowers his lips to my ear and speaks to me in Spanish. I erupt under his control, but we don’t stop. I lose track of how many times we have sex that night. We fall asleep sometime around 5 a.m.

Is masturbation healthy? When it comes to sex—which is already so taboo—talking about masturbation is one of the most uncomfortable of subjects. It’s one thing to admit to being sexual with a partner but quite another to admit to taking pleasure into your own hands—literally and figuratively. Especially for women. But as a certified sex therapist and neuroscientist, I’ve got good news: Masturbation isn’t just pleasurable, it’s good for you.

For years I’ve worked with people with anxiety, depression, or relationship issues, treated people with problems in the bedroom, and taught human sexuality courses (when I’m not busy conducting sex research as a neuroscience Ph.D.), and yet I continue to be amazed about how uncomfortable people are when it comes to discussing sex in general and their own sexual health in particular. It isn’t unusual for me to have to reassure a talk show host who cautions me to be careful about what I say on the air since they don’t really “talk about sex” on their show. I think to myself, What? You’ve had a show for decades that deals with health and lifestyle issues, and you haven’t talked about sex?”

My work with couples and in the lab conducting studies has proved time and time again that pleasure is not just important but necessary—something I explore in my Glamour column Ask. Dr. Nan and in my new book Why Good Sex Matters—based largely on my research of the female orgasm, which can relieve stress, improve mood, reduce pain, boost immunity, and enhance self-esteem.

So when someone asks me if masturbation is healthy, the answer is a resounding yes. Here’s why:

Do most people masturbate?

The short answer? Yes. The longer answer? More men do than women.

Despite the persistent taboo around masturbation, statistics show that in Western cultures, most people do it. In the U.S., roughly 80% of women aged 25 through 40 say they’ve masturbated at some point in their lives, with 50% of women aged 18 through 24 reporting having masturbated during the past year.

Men tend to masturbate more often than women—largely because women are still shamed for being “too sexual.” If you group men and women together, nearly 76% of young adults aged 25 through 29 report self-pleasuring over the past year.

Health benefits of masturbation

I consider masturbation to be one of the best forms of self-care. Not only does it feel good, it’s good for you.

First, there are the physical benefits of masturbation. My research involved having participants masturbate to orgasm in an fMRI scanner to document how the brain responds to genital stimulation leading up to and culminating in the Big O. We found that when you experience sexual pleasure, many areas of the brain receive more oxygen.

Sufficient oxygen is absolutely critical to healthy brain function, so the widespread increase in blood flow to the brain (particularly regions involved in sensation, movement, cognition, reward, and hormone production) make orgasm a great workout for nearly your whole brain. Orgasm triggers the release of a cascade of substances such as natural painkillers, stress relievers, and mood enhancers. Think of your brain enjoying a delicious cocktail of increased dopamine (associated with reward and enthusiasm), endorphins (our own internally produced opioids promoting feelings of well-being), serotonin (for calming), and oxytocin (which facilitates bonding). The result is a health-promoting natural high.

A regular masturbation practice also has other benefits. When women learn to cultivate the pleasures of masturbation, we radically challenge some of the sex-negative notions pervading our culture. Rather than focusing on being a sex object for someone else, masturbation allows us to focus on being intrinsically sexual beings whose bodies are places of pleasure that exist at times just for us. It puts your pleasure first.

Are there side effects of masturbation?

Despite persisting myths, there are no harmful side effects of masturbation. And no, you can’t desensitize yourself from masturbating frequently—in fact, quite the opposite!

That said, any behavior which becomes compulsive can become problematic. 

How much masturbation is too much?

I have treated men whose masturbation practices have gotten out of control, causing physical and emotional distress, even interrupting their ability to go to work. These compulsive sexual behaviors appear less frequently in women, although they have been reported. In general, out-of-control sexual behaviors can result when people have trouble regulating their moods and use sex to self-soothe.

The bottom line? By making a commitment to prioritizing your own pleasure though cultivating a regular masturbation practice, you will reap big benefits.

Nan Wise, Ph.D., is an AASECT-certified sex therapist, neuroscientist, certified relationship expert, and author of Why Good Sex Matters: Understanding the Neuroscience of Pleasure for a Smarter, Happier, and More Purpose-Filled Life. Follow her @AskDoctorNan.

For many of us, journaling started in middle school with a diary we’d probably now find a bit dramatic. These days, however, you might pick up journals for other reasons. Even if you’re not writing down your daily thoughts, many adults now embrace journaling as a way to track their mental health, dreams, travel, fitness, or career goals. Yet there’s one journaling topic you might not hear about as often: sex.

Yes, I’m suggesting you keep track of your sex life. But I don’t mean just writing down the names of everyone you have sex with (unless you want to). “Journaling about sex can add a layer of mindfulness to your sex life,” says Shadeen Francis, L.M.F.T., a therapist who specializes in sex therapy and emotional intelligence. If you’re open to the process, a sex journal can help you reflect on your experiences, desires, and fantasies. Below, you’ll find a few good reasons to start a sex journal and some tips for using one.

1. A sex journal can help you process your experiences.

“Journaling, for so long, has been used as a therapeutic technique to help people reflect on their thoughts and their feelings,” says Madeline Cooper, L.C.S.W., a sex therapist who sees both individuals and couples. Part of the reason journaling works is that it encourages expressive writing and helps people contextualize past emotional experiences. Sex therapist Lisa Hochberger, L.M.S.W., adds that sex can be difficult to process at the moment, “so a sex journal gives you the space to interpret your experience.” Even if you’re not having sex with other people right now, you can focus on past experiences, future desires, or masturbation. No matter what your sex life looks like, a sex journal can help you process it.

2. You might learn more about your sex drive.

With a sex journal, you can explore both how sex feels for you and why you’re doing it. “Sometimes sex can be this thing people do just to get it over with or because they feel they have to have sex to be a good partner,” Hochberger says, adding that a regular journaling practice allows you to slow down and become more aware of your motivations.

Tracking your sex life can also help you see patterns that might influence how, when, or why you want (or don’t want) sex. Maybe you’re really horny the week before your period starts, or maybe sex is painful at that point of your cycle. Maybe slow, sensual sex makes you feel connected with your partner. Or maybe you feel closest to them when the sex is rough. Keeping track of what happens and how you feel during sex can make these patterns clearer.

3. Sex journaling might make it easier to communicate with partners.

Sex can be a loaded conversation topic for partnered people, says Pamela Joy, M.A., a counseling psychologist and Somatica Institute–certified sex and relationship coach. Some of the most eye-opening discussions for couples who go to sex therapy involve what they did or didn’t like about their most recent encounters. This isn’t surprising. There’s significant societal pressure, especially for cis women who have sex with cis men, to be coy about sex. Fear around hurting a partner’s feelings can keep couples from being open about their likes and dislikes too. “I often find that without that talk, they would never really know what about their sex was exciting or fun,” Joy says.

Whether you plan to share it with your partners or not, writing a sex journal gets that conversation started. If you know what you like (and don’t like) during sex, you’ll have an easier time talking about it.

Here are a few ways you can use your sex journal.

While there are structured sex journals you can buy, such as Sex: An Erotic Journal for Sexual Inspiration and Exploration (Amazon, $12) or A Sex Journal for Couples (A Sex Journal, $26), it’s easy to start your own. “The beautiful thing about journaling is that there’s no right or wrong way to journal,” Francis says. Your sex journal can be whatever you want it to be.

1. Use personal-reflection questions.

When you’re getting started, it can help to have a list of questions in mind as you’re freewriting. You might ask yourself what you liked most about the last time you had sex. Or you might think about what felt like it was on the edge of your comfort zone. Other questions can include: What else would you have wanted to happen? Was there a moment when your partner said or did something that sparked a turn-on, fantasy, or dream? There are tons of other questions you might ask yourself about how you felt during sex. Feel free to make up your own questions.

2. Write about your dreams and fantasies.

A sex journal doesn’t have to focus on sex you’ve had with other people. You can also write about masturbation, fantasies, or even dreams. All types of sex, even sex you only have in your mind, can teach you something about your desire. Just be careful not to put too much stock in those dreams and fantasies as something you actually need to do even if you’re not sure you want to. If you frequently fantasize about a threesome, for instance, maybe that’s something you want to try, but it might not be. “The reality of a fantasy is that we can have this experience in our dreams, or in our thoughts, but we might not really want it to come true,” Hochberger says. Don’t feel that you have to live all of your fantasies.

3. Journal with your partner or alone.

One of the most popular sex journals you can buy is made specifically for couples, but a joint journal might not be the answer for everyone. “One of the challenging things about doing it together is being honest,” Joy says. When you’re writing a journal just for yourself, it feels like a private inner world. But if you’re journaling with your partner, you might lose some of that security and be less honest about your desires or experiences. If you feel you can be honest in a joint journal, go for it. Francis suggests partners keep the book in a neutral space accessible for everyone and decide how regularly you want to use your journal. You should also determine how you want to read the journal together, she says. Or if it’s easier, each partner might keep their own sex journal and share what they’ve learned about themselves whenever they’re ready.

4. Create a sexual menu.

“Imagine you go to an Italian restaurant once a week, and every time you go, you get chicken parm,” Cooper says. “I love chicken parm. Chicken parm is delicious. But sometimes I might want a little eggplant rollatini.” Just as eating chicken parmesan once a week can get stale, having the same type of sex (in the same place every time) can be redundant, depending on what you like. In these cases, therapists often have clients create sexual menus, and this is something you can do in your journal.