In society, part of culture is having social taboos. You don’t discuss what’s going on in the bathroom, or what’s going in your pants aloud, not without ostracization from those surrounding you. Ultimately, unless you have someone you can confer to, your concerns are left swirl around your mind until you decide to do research on your own. There a lot of things I wouldn’t know if it weren’t for the Internet and the ability to search up literally everything. However, while it’s great to have that privacy, it doesn’t remove that sense of being alone in whatever personal issue you may be facing.

As I was approaching 13, I gained a sudden interest in puberty: what it was, how it worked and what changes took place between boys and girls. There was no one I could ask about these things and expect the type of responses I was looking for, so I turned to books and videos. I learned about the hormonal changes that took place in the human body, which led to the physical differences that we associate as male or female; the role hormones play in menstruation and mood; the growth of body hair and deepening of voices in men. It was all mystifying yet intriguing to me. Gradually, my attention shifted to the sexual reproductive system: the details of development between sexes, the anatomy and physiology between penises and vulvas.

Even in high school, I’d go to the library just to find books that study sex.

Some point last semester, during one of many sleeplessness nights, I did my usual Google search of nude men or women or their respective genitalia, admiring the structure and beauty of the human body.  While scrolling through thumbnails, I found the page of a comic. It was extremely pink, and had drawings of both a vulva and penis on the side of the page. Between them was an explanation of similar nature of arousal between males and females. I was surprised, seeing such a nice, straightforward visual explanation of how men and women more or less had bodies that functioned similarly. It wasn’t until I came across another thumbnail of the same comic that I decide it was worth some looking into. Awaiting me at the end of my search was a lovely sex education comic called Oh Joy, Sex Toy.

This comic provided information about sexual concerns and facts, diseases, sex safety, commonly misunderstood subjects. Each page included the author and a cast of characters of all shapes, sizes, races, ethnicities, and sexes, along with their own sexual preferences. There had to be at least over 200 comics in the archive given that it dated back to 2013-14 and updates weekly. It provided answers to personal questions with visual illustrations and excellent sources, while connecting you to the author, her characters, and their relatable situations. In addition to the sex education part, it also provided reviews of sex toys and products, promoted books and other artists, and explored various kinks and stories of issues, such as coming out and infertility.

Upon my first visit to the site, I was sold. The things no one talked about, that I couldn’t ask my mother about without feeling some sense of embarrassment, were listed here in an accessible, visual, and comprehensive form. I was in love with the honesty of the creator Erika Moen and her husband, Matthew Nolan. They were able to present the things people want to know but don’t always feel comfortable asking, and made me feel understood, informed and while also entertaining me simultaneously. Its insight into the sexuality and humans, encourages broad-minded thinking and various perspectives.

While its title may seem to indicate one thing, I’d definitely recommend this comic as a way to understand yourself and others as individuals and sexual beings.