Cara Delevingne Talks So Openly About Pleasure!
If you’d told me a year ago that I’d spend three weeks researching a sex toy with the dedication of someone buying their first house, I would’ve laughed.
Yet there I was reading reviews, comparing features, and opening and closing the same shopping cart at least twenty times a day.
I wasn’t unsure because I didn’t want one. I was unsure because buying one somehow felt like crossing an invisible line. I kept wondering whether women like me actually did this or whether we were all secretly pretending we didn’t
The Unexpected Hesitation
I’d always thought of myself as someone comfortable talking about sex. I could discuss dating disasters over brunch, recommend books about relationships, and happily cheer on every conversation about women’s empowerment.
But when it came to my own pleasure, I suddenly became incredibly shy.
Somewhere along the way, I’d absorbed the idea that pleasure was something that simply happened in a relationship—as though it belonged to someone else as much as it belonged to me.
The idea of exploring it entirely on my own felt strangely unfamiliar, even though it shouldn’t have.
Taking the Leap
Eventually, curiosity won.
I placed the order late one evening, immediately questioned every life decision I’d ever made, and spent the next few days tracking the parcel as though it contained state secrets.
When the courier finally arrived, he handed me the most ordinary brown box imaginable, wished me a pleasant day, and walked away without giving it a second thought
I closed the door and burst out laughing.
I’d spent days imagining judgment from someone who clearly had hundreds of deliveries to make and absolutely no interest in mine.
The First Moment
I decided to make an evening out of it.
I lit a candle, dimmed the lights, and slowly unboxed it for the first time.
I remember simply sitting there, holding it in my hands, turning it over, almost studying it. I ran my fingers across its surface, trying to see whether it still scared me.
Surprisingly, it didn’t.
Somewhere between holding it and getting familiar with it, I realised it probably wasn’t something to be afraid of after all.
The fear I’d built up in my head over the previous weeks suddenly felt much bigger than the object itself
Choosing Comfort
Still, I wanted everything to feel comfortable.
I reached for the lube and took my time, making sure everything was prepared before I actually used it.
There was something unexpectedly reassuring about slowing the entire experience down instead of rushing into it.
With every passing minute, my anxiety gave way to curiosity.
I wasn’t trying to prove anything to anyone.
This was entirely for me.
Discovering Something New
As I finally allowed myself to experience it, everything I’d imagined about that moment disappeared.
It felt like a huge wave of the ocean slowly flowing closer to my body—gentle at first before gradually surrounding me completely.
The new sensation was unlike anything I’d experienced before.
The nervousness I’d carried for days slowly melted away, replaced by a feeling of comfort and pleasure that honestly caught me by surprise.
It wasn’t overwhelming in the way I’d expected.
It was warm, reassuring, and deeply personal
Exploring Further
Then I realised there was still more to explore.
I hadn’t even experimented with the vibrating option yet.
I hesitated for a second, smiled at myself, and decided to give it a try.
The moment it came to life, the entire experience changed again.
It was as though a ripple travelled through me, making every part of me suddenly feel more awake, more present, and more connected.
I found myself laughing quietly because I finally understood what all the fuss had been about.
Letting Go
Slowly, I became more comfortable.
I picked up the pace, allowing myself to stay in the moment instead of constantly wondering what was supposed to happen next.
I realised I’d spent so many years believing pleasure was something someone else brought into my life that I’d never stopped to discover it for myself.
As the experience built naturally, I wasn’t even sure what I was preparing for.
I simply let go of the fear and allowed myself to be present.
A New Understanding
When everything was over, I wasn’t sitting there thinking about the toy anymore.
I was thinking about myself.
I understood why so many women speak openly about pleasure—not because it’s shocking or rebellious, but because it’s freeing.
For so long, I’d unknowingly believed my pleasure depended on another person, another relationship, another moment.
That evening quietly challenged all of those assumptions.
The Confidence That Followed
Over the following weeks, something shifted beyond that one experience.
I found myself walking a little taller.
I became more comfortable talking about intimacy, more honest about my needs, and less embarrassed by conversations I’d once avoided.
I realised that understanding my own body wasn’t selfish.
If anything, it made me feel more confident, more independent, and more connected to myself than I’d been in years.
Talking About It
The funniest part is that my friends eventually found out.
Once the initial embarrassment wore off, our conversations became surprisingly honest.
Nearly every woman admitted she’d been curious at some point.
Some already owned one but had never mentioned it.
Others confessed they’d abandoned shopping carts just like I had.
We all laughed about how ridiculous it was that buying another skincare gadget felt perfectly acceptable, while buying something connected to our own pleasure still felt like a secret mission.
Final Thoughts
Looking back, the little brown box I nearly didn’t order delivered something much bigger than I’d expected.
It wasn’t just a new experience.
It was permission to stop treating my own pleasure like an afterthought.
It reminded me that confidence doesn’t always come from someone choosing you.
Sometimes it comes from choosing yourself first.
And perhaps that’s the biggest reason I finally understood why women like Cara Delevingne talk so openly about pleasure.
It’s not just about what happens in the moment.
It’s about the confidence that stays with you long after that moment has passed.
