I’m a bit of a minimalist when it comes to my sex life—very rarely will you find lube on my nightstand or toys in my bedside drawer. I don’t think that this gestures to my being boring but rather just lazy. Every time I’ve gone looking for Ways to Spice It Up in the Bedroom, I get overwhelmed by the dearth of Cosmo tips and seemingly endless variety of scary-looking sex toys out there. I purchased a cheap bullet vibrator for myself two years ago, and haven’t branched out beyond that.

So when Emojibator sent me a few toys this month, I was thrilled that I’d get to experiment without having to look too hard. Several of the toys were tailored to beginner vibrator users, while another got me out of my comfort zone. It was the perfect selection to start me on my journey of sexual exploration. 

Enticed by its spot-on similarity to that symbol regularly used in cheeky texts as emoji shorthand for “dick,” the Eggplant Emojibator was the first toy I reached for. Unlike the one other vibrator I’ve used—which was a stick-straight wand—I loved the slight curves of the Eggplant. The narrower end features a green “stem” with a button at its tip to activate the toy’s ten vibration settings; at its other end, the Eggplant gently flares out into a thicker, rounded shape that makes it uber-easy to hold while doing the deed. Its exterior is soft and smooth to the touch; according to the Emojibator website, the silicone that encases it is waterproof, medical-grade, and body-safe, making for better ease of bath and shower play. 

After inserting the included AAA battery, I got to work. Those aforementioned ten settings definitely did not disappoint: gradually increasing in intensity, the first three were standard, uninterrupted vibrations for simple-but-satisfying clitoral stimulation. Then came some interesting modes I’d never encountered on my old single-setting vibe. Some personal favorites included a slow-pulsating setting that emitted shorter vibrations with brief pauses in between, and a quicker-vibrating one that let out three bursts before one loooong one. 

While I felt that the motor of the Eggplant was a tad weaker than the vibrator I’m used to, I actually enjoyed it more. I’ve always found myself physically sensitive—to the point where sexual overstimulation is common for me. In solo masturbation sessions, a too-strong motor has meant I could only enjoy the vibrations for a few seconds at a time; during sex, I’ve had difficulty finding it hot if a partner uses toys on me because I couldn’t be in control of the strength or pressure of application. Most of the time, it’s simply been too much, and I’ve even laughed because it tickled rather than stimulated. When I incorporated the Eggplant into partner play, though, I luckily didn’t encounter any of this. The variety of settings and just-right motor strength made it easy for my partner to find a sweet spot for me. 

For even better partner play, I added the Phuksaus Water-Based Premium Lube. Although I’ve owned two different lubes before, I don’t often use them, so this was a welcome gift I was excited to try. The easy-twist tapered nozzle made targeted application to one area much easier than with other brands I’d tried, where liquid would squirt out seemingly everywhere. And with its water base, Phuksaus is safe for use with all toys, natural rubber latex, polyisoprene, and polyurethane condoms. 

Before even applying it in the genital area, I experimented with the lube on my body. It’s a super-fun experience to apply it with a partner—I felt and looked…shiny. Like, a million bucks. Plus, it left me slick to the touch, which made my partner remark that touching me felt much smoother; there was less friction and made us sort of melt together. (Is that cheesy?)

Nothing pulls me out of the moment more than a particularly plasticky-smelling lube, so what I loved most about Phuksaus was its lack of fragrance. Because of this, the lube felt natural, like it was complementing my body’s lubrication rather than replacing or overpowering it.

I usually have little issue achieving the level of wetness that makes initial penetration comfortable, which is why I didn’t use lube much before receiving Phuksaus. I notice the difference now, though. Even if initial wetness was there, repeated friction—especially during longer sessions—reduced it; when reapplied consistently, a good lube like Phuksaus makes everything glide so much easier. If you enjoy a rougher time, lube can also reduce the risk of vaginal tearing and soreness.

Next, I tried the Pickle Emojibator. Sharing the same key features as the Eggplant—waterproof silicone construction and ten vibration settings—the Pickle’s most distinctive characteristic is its texture. Unlike the smooth Eggplant, this toy exterior features raised ridges meant to imitate those of a real pickle. And although gastronomically correct, I found these “ribs” pleasing to the touch because of how anatomically reminiscent they were of the revered dick vein. For anyone seeking textural stimulation on the clitoris beyond vibration, the Pickle is a solid, safe bet. 

I incorporated the Pickle into solo masturbation by starting off with a slow pulsation to build tension before moving into uninterrupted long vibration. For a good edging experience, I alternated between the slow pulsation with pauses and the quick-vibrating setting. Emojibator makes it super easy to switch settings according to your mood and how you want to come; all you have to do is press the top button once to change or hold it down for a few seconds to stop altogether. 

Finally, I turned to the Candle Warming Vibrator Wand. This toy was unlike anything I’d ever used before, and I’m not going to lie—it was a little intimidating! Shaped like a standard candlestick, complete with a slim black base and small white “flame” on top, it actually looks pretty discreet, like it could blend in with anything else on your nightstand—the body of the toy is even adorned with wax-drip-shaped details. Like its sex toy siblings, it’s also made of body-safe silicone and features multiple settings (six in this case, although I feel that the Candle’s additional features make up for the lesser number of vibrations). A USB cable is included, as the toy requires a full charge before use.

The Candle is a dual-ended toy, which increases the play possibilities. The flame-shaped end vibrates, while the other end features a metal surface that warms up for simulated candle-drip experimentation. Both vibration and temperature settings are adjustable via the buttons conveniently placed in the center of the candlestick. 

I’ve never incorporated temperature into either sex or masturbation, so—because I was admittedly intimidated and out of my sexual safe-zone—I decided to take it slow and only use the Candle alone. I was pleased with the Candle vibrations; the tapered tip of the flame makes targeted stimulation even more deep and pleasurable than usual. And I was happily surprised by the warming capabilities! I initially worried that the toy would be extremely hot on my skin, offering a burning sensation better suited to someone who enjoys pain play (that person is not me)—however, I found the temperature to be comfortable and relaxing rather than overwhelming. 

Funnily enough, the Candle takes on a mainly non-sexual role for me. While the Eggplant, the Pickle, and Phuksaus are all currently regular favorites in the rotation of sex and masturbation aids, I turn to the Candle’s temperature settings when I’d like to calm down; I’d liken it to a smaller version of the hot water bottles one might use while suffering from period cramps.

But variety like that is the best thing I could ask for in my sex life, anyway—I’m pleased with all of my Emojibator products and happy to say that each one fulfills a different purpose. Where the Pickle turns me on, the Candle warms me up; finding the right products to get me there has taught me tons about getting in tune with my body. And, from doing that, I’ve learned that self-care and sex supplement each other: experimenting with so many different toys has made me realize the necessity of sexual satisfaction to my previously-unfulfilling methods of “taking care of myself.” Now, I know exactly how to do that—and exactly what to do it with.