The first time I used a rose toy, I didn’t tell anyone that day.

My name is Elisa, I'm 38, and I live in the suburbs of Washington, D.C., working back-to-back shifts. My schedule leaves me with little time for myself, and I've gotten used to burying most of my emotions—sometimes to the point where I forget what I really want.

That night, I got off work, and it was almost three in the morning. I got home, took a hot bath, and was about to go to sleep, but then I thought back to that video I'd seen two days ago—someone talking about the rose toy, vaguely but with a sly smile.

Before I even locked my phone, I clicked on a page called vibelush. It was a small, rose-shaped thing, seemingly innocuous. I skimmed through the comments below: some were teasing, others were saying things like "it’s like a first love." Without giving it much thought, I somehow placed the order.

The day I received it, I felt a little guilty. The package had been anonymously wrapped, and the delivery guy didn’t even glance at it. But I still felt a strange sense of guilt.

The moment I opened the box, I was honestly surprised by how it looked—it really resembled a small rose, not the cheap plastic feel I’d expected. It was pale pink, very light, and felt like suede. There was no weird smell, no obnoxious buttons, and it was so quiet that it made me feel strangely cared for.

I put it in a drawer and didn’t touch it for two whole days.

My first time using it, it wasn’t for climax.

It was a Saturday. The sky was gray and rainy. I curled up in bed, finished watching a series, flipped through a book, and didn’t feel like going anywhere. I hadn’t eaten lunch, and I wasn’t really hungry that afternoon. I felt totally light and empty. Then I remembered—the "secret" was still in the drawer.

I didn’t light any candles, or use perfume, or even take off my clothes. I just pulled the curtains closed and put my phone on silent. The room got so quiet I could hear the wind slipping in through the crack under the door.

I lay in bed, took out the "rose," and held it in my hand. It’s nearly silent when it turns on, just a soft vibration. The tiny opening in the middle gives a gentle kind of suction, like when your lips accidentally pull at the edge of a spoon.

I didn’t immediately place it on myself. I just held it in my hand and tried a few settings: some were soft like breathing, others had more of a pulse. It took me almost ten minutes to get close to it. Not because I was scared—but because I didn’t want to rush.

The suction wasn’t as intense as I thought it’d be. In fact, the first few settings felt super gentle—the kind where you think it’s not doing much, but your body already knows. I placed it gently on myself, feeling a little nervous at first, but gradually, my breathing evened out and something inside started to respond.

I don’t remember exactly how long I used it, but I think I switched to the third setting. The rhythm was just right—not too fast, not too slow. The whole time, it didn’t feel like I was using a tool, more like I was being quietly wrapped up in some kind of soft, silent kindness.

It wasn’t wild pleasure—it was quiet pleasure.

Afterward, I lay there for a long time—silent, not crying.

I’m not the kind of person who cries afterward, and I didn’t have one of those earth-shattering orgasms. But what I felt… was like finally hearing my own voice. My body felt like an old well—still there, but untouched for years. The rose toy didn’t just stimulate—it reminded me: you’re still here, and you still need to be cared for.

I didn’t put it away immediately. I left it by my bed.

That night, I slept like a baby.

If you’re trying it for the first time, maybe this helps:

I’m not here to give you a how-to, but if you’re like me—just starting—these helped me:

Feel the vibration in your hand first: Your palm is a great way to get familiar with the sensation. I tried three settings before placing it on myself, and I felt way more comfortable.

Water-based lube really helps: It makes the suction smoother, more fluid. Without it, the dryness can kind of pull you out of the moment.

Position doesn’t matter—relaxation does: My first time, I was just lying there, legs just relaxed and open. I didn’t stress over posture.

Don’t chase the finish line: The rose toy is designed to go deeper, emotionally and physically. Don’t jump to the highest setting. Settings three to five are perfect for getting to know it.

Let yourself come down slowly afterward: You’ll probably feel emotionally soft after. Don’t scroll your phone or jump into chores. Just lay there. Let yourself be.

Now, I don’t depend on it—I just trust it.

I don’t use it every day. But on those long overtime nights, or when I can’t sleep, or when something’s aching inside—emotionally—I’ll reach for it. It’s like a nightlight. Quiet, unassuming, but it glows just enough to make you feel not alone.

I don’t think vibelush made this just for function. I think they made it for the parts of us we don’t always talk about.

If you’re still unsure whether to try it…

It’s not shameful. It’s not second-best. It’s not a replacement for intimacy.

It’s just a small, warm, quiet part of your life.

The rose toy didn’t teach me how to be “sexier.” It just made me more honest with myself. The part of me that gets tired, checks out, and still craves closeness.

You don’t have to be fully ready. You don’t need to wait for the perfect day. Maybe it’s just a rainy Saturday and something in you wants to be held—and you start there.