TL;DR

• Certified sex educator | San Francisco Sex Information

• Certified sex coach | Somatica

• Certified sexologist | American Board of Sexology

• BDSM and kink educator | The Pleasure Chest

• Sex and relationships journalist and editor | Slate, MEL Magazine, Playboy, Harper’s Bazaar, VICE, and more.

I’m Isabelle, and I help people of all genders and orientations have better sex, relationships, and intimacy by being their most authentic selves. As someone who knows how good these things feel when they’re true to you, it’s my mission—and my biggest passion—to help you figure out what you want out and how to get it, without shame. 

I know a little about shame and sex. Growing up, I was always the first one to try things—the first one to kiss, the first one to have sex, the first one to try sex that looked a little different than P-in-V (I love bondage, what can I say?). I was being true to myself—thanks, in part, to some fantastic (and rare!) pleasure-positive sex education I got in school—but not everyone appreciated my “enthusiasm.” One day, on the bus to a soccer game, I noticed someone had written “Isabelle is a slut” on the seat with a Sharpie. In front of me, two boys turned around and snickered. But, I wasn’t ashamed of being sexual. In fact, I really liked that part of myself. I looked at the boys blankly and replied, “Hey, at least I’m getting laid.” 

I wore the “slut” badge proudly from then on. Shame about my sexuality wasn’t something I wanted to let in. And the more free of shame I felt, the better sex got. In fact, my whole life improved: I learned to value myself more, to set good boundaries, and to thrive in relationships.

Not that letting go of shame is easy. As much as I’ve broken free of it (most of the time!), I also know exactly what it’s like to feel like your desires are “too much.” I can still remember, viscerally, the many rejections I got when I wanted to share those darker, more passionate sides of myself. I’ve spent many nights wondering what’s “wrong” with me, why I can’t be “normal,” and if I could ever be “enough.” I’ve kicked myself for having too many needs, and for failing to conform to the sexual and relational blueprint. But, I also know what it’s like to step away from those doubts so I can be me. And it feels really, really good. 

That got me thinking: What if I could help other people be free of their shame, too? In college, I started a Q&A sex advice column that earned me a hilarious amount minor amount of renown for the direct, judgement-free way I spoke about sex. To ensure I was providing accurate, thoughtful answers, I got my sex educator’s certification from San Francisco Sex Information, then used what I learned to start a sex ed dinner series called Eating Out. Around the same time, I started working at the Pleasure Chest, an education-oriented sex toy store, where I taught classes on everything from BDSM to pegging to G-spot stimulation. My sex coaching certification through Somatica came soon after that. Throughout all this, I was—and still am—working as a sex and relationship journalist, covering topics like incredibly novel ways to orgasm and the many ways kink can improve your life outside of the bedroom.

To me, sex isn’t just something we do with our bodies—it’s something we use to know ourselves better. For some people, it’s almost spiritual—we use it to transcend the everyday, to see what our bodies are capable of, to forge connections and community with others, and give ourselves over to the delicious unknown. But it’s not just intimacy writ large that does this—it’s intimacy that feels right to you. And sometimes, that doesn’t look like “sex” as we know it at all.

One of my clients found this out firsthand when he discovered that his libido—which was lower relative to his wife’s—wasn’t on the fritz because he was “aging” or “broken.” It was because the sex they weren’t having wasn't meeting his core desires, or the emotions people want to feel from sex. He was so used to taking the dominant role in his life and caring for everyone else that deep down, what he wanted—what felt authentic—was for him to be taken care of. After some discussion, we discovered that the fantasy of receiving a sensual massage—during which he had no responsibilities other than to simply feel pleasure—activated his sex drive in a whole new way. Together, we worked on how to communicate this desire to his wife in a way that made her feel desired and involved, and they were off to the races. 

The physical changes he exhibited as he and his wife began to explore this side of him more were immense—his shoulders dropped, he made more eye contact, and his voice and breath were steadier. He felt better in his life outside the bedroom, too. The same thing happened to one client who embraced her desire for incredibly slow sex that took days to build up to, and another who really needed to feel seen by her girlfriend in order to relax into orgasm. One of my favorite sessions involved an amazing non-binary person who was erotically charged by the sights, sounds, smells, and textures of nature—together, we were able to actualize their fantasies where and when they wanted them most: Outside, mid-day, in the shade, by a creek. The satisfaction on their face was incredible. 

All of these stories have one thing in common: The people in them released shame, developed compassion for the perfectly imperfect parts of themselves, allowed themselves to be vulnerable, and had fun doing it. They learned, in other words, to feel more. 

Are you ready to feel more, too?