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I wish I could say that, one day, some sexy spirit moved me to put on “I’m Every Woman” and finger-blast myself into sensual oblivion. The reality is slightly less empowering: A supportive boyfriend surprised me with a vibrator. Not for him, not for us, just for me. I figured out it was like rubbing that genie lamp inside a cave, except the cave is hip-huggers and also there’s no genie. I accepted that I deserved to feel good.  

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